Page 6 of Forever More

But there’s a weird tension between us that I can’t pinpoint. An awkwardness that has never been between us before. Maybe it’s the curious way he keeps looking at me while we talk about every non-important thing under the sun that has my overthinking going into overdrive. The new single of Evermore’s that has gone platinum. A weird co-worker of mine and his odd quirks. His upcoming tour that he is headlining for the first time. My new place down the street that I’ve promised to show him.

Little snippets of our very different lives.

But something is different about Lyric tonight.

Something . . . I don’t know, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. He’s quiet when he’s normally loud. He’s a bit distant instead of being in my face. On top of that, I keep catching him staring at me in a way that says he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to say it.

This is the last time we’ll be able to do this, Annie. I’m too busy. The rumors in the press about Cassandra Miller and me are true.

Those are the words I’ve made up in my own head. Words I’ve stewed over and a relationship I’ve basically conjured up after seeing an US Weekly article about him and the model. One that I’ve been too afraid to ask about yet.

Two Years Ago

The bar is loud and the whiskey I sip has a deep, rich flavor. It’s something I’ve learned to appreciate over the last few years. More like, it’s something that Lyric and I have promised ourselves we’d learn to appreciate.

I’m still not sure if I one hundred percent like this shit, but Lyric is coming soon, and I have to at least pretend to like it.

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.