“We were.” I exchange a glance with Lyric. “But we got bored and were wondering if we could go to the Silver Box for a while.”
Lila looks at Ethan for his input, but he just shrugs. Her gaze glides to the window across the room. “It’s pretty late for a school night.”
“We won’t stay out for too long,” Lyric steps in. “There’s supposed to be some really cool bands playing tonight.”
Ethan straightens up at this. “Yeah, I actually heard that, too.”
Lyric’s green eyes start to sparkle, and I know she’s already conjuring up a plan. “Hey, here’s an idea. How about you and my dad go with us? That could be fun.”
Ethan rubs his jawline, musing over the idea. “That actually could be fun.” He drops the papers he was holding down onto the couch cushion and turns to Lila. “What do you think?”
Lila sighs as she collects her mug, reclines back in the sofa, and crosses her legs. “Go have fun. Just don’t keep them out too late.”
When Ethan hurries upstairs to get ready, Lyric faces me. “I probably should go make sure my dad is down. Meet you at my garage in like ten?”
I nod.
She gives me a pressing look before walking out of the room. I know her well enough by now to understand that the only reason she left was to give me an opportunity to speak with Lila. I’m just not sure what I want to say anymore, so I end up sticking to my original plan.
“Um, I kind of wanted to ask you something else.” I lower myself onto the edge of the coffee table and pick at a hole in my jeans. “I was wondering if we could start looking for my brother again, since his eighteenth birthday is in a few days.”
“I was actually expecting you to ask that sooner, and was planning on visiting social services next week.” She smiles as she raises the brim of the mug to her lips, but beneath the mask of happiness is uneasiness.
I’m just not sure what the uneasiness is over. Finding my brother? Or me?
***
I didn’t understand why Lyric was so easygoing about bringing her father and Ethan with us to a club, but I quickly find out once I arrive at her house. After some persuading, she convinces Mr. Scott to drive his Chevelle and to let us drive her mother’s GTO so we can race to the club. It’s a fairly easy win, though, since Mr. Scott seems to go easy on her.
When we arrive at the building secured in the heart of the town, I learn another reason why Lyric was so enthusiastic over taking the parentals. Mr. Scott is a well enough known musician that he gets easy access through the entrance. We stroll right up to the rope where the bouncer waves us in.
A crowd is already forming around the stage, even though we’re here early. The air is hot, suffocating, along with the bodies pressed up against me. The mob is thickening at such a rapid rate that we end up losing track of Mr. Scott and Ethan. I just about get split apart from Lyric, too, but fortunately she presses her back against my chest, grabs hold of my hands, and then wraps them around her waist.
I momentarily seize up by her nearness, but then I realize the alternative—let her go and get eaten up by the throng. I grip onto her and hold on for dear life.
Her hair smells amazing, like strawberries with a hint of perfume. The strands tickle my cheeks, causing my eyelashes to lower.
“Are you okay?” she asks over her shoulder as she stares at the stage where the band members have started to set up.
I force my eyelids open. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
Her shoulders lift as she shrugs. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after what we heard.”
My stomach knots as I remember Lila’s suggestion to Ethan about my memories. “I promise I’m fine.” But I’m not sure I am.
“Okay.” She pulls me tighter against her and remains silent, leaving me to wonder what’s going on in her head. I’m about to be daring and ask her, but then she says, “Man, I’m so going to date a drummer one day.”
Okay, maybe I don’t want to know what’s going on in her head.
“You say that now, but next week it’ll be the guy from Danny’s Stop and Go,” I tease. “Then it’ll be the quarterback.”
She peers over her shoulder at me, the florescent lighting reflecting in her green eyes. “Are you saying I’m flaky?” Her brow arches, challenging me.
“You do change your mind a lot.”
“That’s because there’s too many opportunities roaming around in the world. It’s hard to focus on just one.” She rotates back around toward the stage and raises her voice as the drummer starts bashing on the symbols. “You know what we should do!” she shouts as the crowd goes wild. “We should join a band! There’s these two guys from school, Nolan and Sage, who are looking!”
“I’m not that great at the guitar yet!” I holler as I get bumped from every angle. Breathe. Just breathe. “And what about your issue with stage fright?”
“I’m going to conquer that fear one day!” She lifts her arms in the air and screams as the singer belts sultry lyrics through the microphone. “And you rock at the guitar! It’s mad crazy how fast you caught on in just a month’s time!”
“Ethan’s a good teacher!” I shout, but my voice gets swallowed up by the screams, the singing, the bass, the entire scene of being a rock star.
Lyric gets lost in the rhythm, rocking and bobbing her head. Our bodies are perfectly aligned so every time she sways her hips, her ass rubs against my cock. The sensation is so intense that by the third song, I almost consider bailing.
But the way she moves.
Is breathtaking.
Consuming.
She owns me.
Makes me feel
so alive.
So petrified.
I can’t breathe.
Dizzy.
Spinning out of control.
Reckless and wild.
I want.
Want. Want.
Something so
terrifying.
In the middle of my stream of thoughts, Lyric twirls around. Her eyes are large and glazed over, high on the music. I open my mouth to ask her what’s up, but she glides her palms up my chest then wraps her arms around my neck. My muscles wind tight as she presses her breasts against me. Then, she stands on her tiptoes and places her lips against my ear.
“Strip me bare, peel me apart, layer by layer, steal my heart,” she sings the lyrics of the song playing. Her voice is soft, not to her full potential, yet it’s the most incredible sound that’s ever graced my ears. I can only imagine what it would sound like if she really sang—striking enough to stop my heart probably. “Let me stand naked in front of you, and pour my secrets out. Unravel me slowly, savoring each part.” She rolls her body against mine and her fingers trace the nape of my neck. “Then let me do the same thing to you. Strip you apart.”