The funny thing? He knows that too. He knows that I hate the taste—especially after how drunk we got on it that first Friendsgiving, but that I drink it as a nod to that first time. And he’s taken up the hobby of sending me mini-bottles of it from his travels all over the world as a way to poke fun at me.
My phone buzzes, and my heart sinks when I see Lyric’s name on the screen. I know he’s not coming before I ever answer the call.
“Hey.” Where are you?
My ear is blasted with a cacophony of sound, and I recoil at its harshness through my cell. “Annie? You there?”
Tears already burn in the back of my throat as I wait for him to say it. As I wait for him to confirm my hunch.
“Annie? C’mon. I know you’re there.”
“Lyric.” I clear my throat. “Where are you?”
“Not there.” He gives a half-hearted laugh, trying to pull a joke off but it falls on my deaf ears. Especially when there is a feminine laugh in the background and then a shushing sound. “Look. Rehearsals are running late. Way late. We had issues with sound and then Trixie was struggling with her guitar and . . .”
“And it’s a shit show.” I swallow over the excuse that’s lodged like a lump of disappointment in my throat.
“Basically.” There is a sudden shutting of a door and the background noise is now muffled as if he stepped into a different room. “I’m so sorry, Annes.” He uses the nickname he has for me when he knows I’m upset. “We were supposed to be done three hours ago. Just enough time for me to catch the train to meet up with you. I lost track of time and didn’t realize how late . . . I don’t think we’ll be done until who the fuck knows when.”
“Okay.” My voice wavers, and I hate that it does.
“Can I make it up to you? Can we meet up tomorrow night? Celebrate Thanksgiving then?”
The first tear slips down my cheek, and I shove it away with the back of my hand, angry that it’s there. “I can’t. I have to fly out to Chicago for that deposition,” I lie.
“On Thanksgiving weekend?” he asks. “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”
Probably as harsh as I’m being right now. But I knew this was coming. I knew Lyric was going to move into his new life of stardom and that Little Annie with the crummy apartment was going to be a thing of the past.
I knew it was coming, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
“Yes. I volunteered to be the one to go so that everyone else could spend time with their families.”
Better to put space between us on my own terms. At least now I can feel like I have some control of the situation.
“But I’m your family.” His words hang on the line between us as my chest aches.
I think I’ve always been in love with Lyric Evermore. It sounds stupid, but it’s true. Maybe even since that first night he sat in the chair beside from me at the apartment complex and walked his way into my life. With his soft smile, cool arrogance, and gorgeous face.
And maybe after that kiss last year, I’d been holding out hope that he’d feel the same way about me someday. That he’d walk into the bar this year and realize that with his crazy lifestyle, I was the one who grounded him.
That I was the one he wanted.
Silly pipe dreams for a girl like me to think a guy like him would want me any time other than when he’d been drinking.
“Annes. Don’t be mad. I promise I’ll make it up to you. You know I’m good for it.”
“It’s fine. We’re fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate. You’re leaving for Europe at the end of the week, and I’m in Chicago. We’ll just have to do a rain check.” I try to sell the lie that I’m not hurt.
I don’t think I do.
“I’m sorry, Annie. You know I don’t say those words unless I mean them.”
My smile is forced, and I hope it reflects in my voice. “I know. Apology accepted.”
“So you’ll come visit me on tour in Europe then, right?”
* * *
“You’re distracted,” Lyric says and squeezes my hand, shaking me from my thoughts.
“Just thinking about that time I visited you on tour in Europe.”
His smile is half-cocked as he remembers too. The constant travel. The constant partying. The women who would beg, borrow, or steal to get a few minutes alone with him.
“We had fun, didn’t we?”
And we did. We stayed up talking long after the show was over. We explored ancient cities and ate food we couldn’t pronounce.
We grew closer in those five days. Closer and yet we never crossed the line past friendship.
I yearned for it. I willed it to happen. And then I walked away from him in the airport in Rome, with the heat of his gaze on my back, and mourned and grieved for what I knew would never be.
I was his little sister in a sense. And he was the big brother who was looking out for me.
At least I’ve tried to sell myself that lie for the past three years. The problem is every time he calls or I see him, I still get that flutter in my belly. I still close my eyes when we hang up or part ways and sigh. I still kind of love him.
“We did have fun.” I give a slight smile as I take a sip of my margarita, my thoughts from earlier returning. “And what about you and Cassandra? I’m seeing reports—”
“Nothing there. Just friends. We went for drinks so I could introduce her to Kieran. That’s it.” He shoves my shoulder playfully. “Is that what this is about?”
“Is that what, what’s about?”
“You’re being weird tonight.” He chuckles and dips a chip into the salsa. “I assure you, if there was someone in my life, you’d be the first to know.”
And I’m not sure if I’m relieved by that statement or upset.
Maybe a bit of both.
Then again, maybe if I have a few more drinks, I’ll build up the courage to let Lyric know how I feel about him.
Maybe.
4
Lyric
“It has a little balcony too?” I glance over my shoulder to where Annie stands inside her apartment and raise my eyebrows. The pride reflected in her expression is everything. “I’m impressed and a bit jealous.”
“Oh, come on.” She blushes. “Your house in Los Angeles is probably twenty times bigger than this with a view of the ocean.”
She has a point, but big means nothing. It just means there are more rooms to be empty. More space to make you realize how alone you feel.
I shrug in response as I lean against the railing, my back to the San Francisco skyline, and everything I want to admire standing in front of me. “I’m proud of you. I truly am. I mean, this place is amazing.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” She sniffles and then turns to make her hands busy as Annie typically does when she’s made to feel on the spot or vulnerable.
“Who would have thought, huh? Two young, crazy kids trying to find our way would make it to where we are right now. Successful. Living our dreams. Making a name for ourselves.”