I rest my forehead against hers and take a few shallow breaths as she slips her leg through mine and aligns our bodies.
“What do you want to do for the rest of the night?” she asks, playing with my hair.
“Can we just stay like this? Can we just pretend that everything is okay for a while?”
“Of course.”
She wiggles around until we’re both lying down face to face. She keeps her leg between my legs, her hand on my cheek, and her forehead against mine. We fit together so perfectly it’s mind-boggling.
How is this possible?
To completely fit with someone.
Our bodies creating lyrics
Perfectly composing
As our hearts dance together.
Nothing makes sense.
Yet everything makes sense.
Perfect is so confusing.
A dizzy spell inside my head.
Thirsting for answers.
With nothing to drink.
Where do I go?
To find out who I am?
Chapter 9
Ayden
I try not to worry over the failed attempt of restoring my memories and instead concentrate on the band. It’s not like that session was the only chance for me to remember. Plus, part of me is relieved the session didn’t work. Relieved I didn’t have to relive the hellish nightmare. But another part of me feels guilty, like I’m not doing all that I can to help track down my brother’s killer.
A couple of days later, I’m sitting in Sage’s garage with Lyric, listening to music, attempting to focus on chords, notes, the strum of my fingers. It’s still Christmas break. December thirtieth to be exact. Everywhere I look still screams, the holidays aren’t over yet! Cheer up! We’re starting a new year! On top of everything going on with therapy, I haven’t heard anything back from Rebel Tonic yet and cheering up seems impossible when the possibility that he ripped me off gets higher.
Things remain pretty quiet for the first ten minutes or so while we wait for Sage and Nolan to show up so we can get band practice started. They were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago, but Sage texted me and said they were picking up pizza on their way back from a concert they went to over the weekend. He also still needs to chat with me about something. He’s been texting me for about a week now, but has never gotten around to actually telling me what he needs to discuss. I’d probably worry about it a little bit more, but I’ve had other things on my mind.
“Self-defense class should be called kick your ass class. I’m so sore,” Lyric says, massaging her shoulder. “I feel like such a wimp.”
“That’s because you are a wimp,” I joke as I strum a few chords on my guitar.
She shifts in the sofa and lightly punches my arm. “Whatever. I so could kick your ass if I wanted to.”
“I was holding back on you in class.”
At the class, I’d been Lyric’s partner, which required a lot of touching and human contact. I didn’t flip out too badly, so I felt pretty proud of myself. I kept reminding myself that it was important for Lyric to be able to learn to protect herself, and in order to learn, I had to be a good partner. After everything she’s done for me, I owe her so much.
“I so could tell, too.” She fiddles with the microphone cord. “You’re such a softie when it comes to me.”
God, if she knew how right she is.
How much I melt just from just a simple look from her.
A glance in my direction
Sends my pulse racing.
Her green eyes melt away
The chill always in my soul.
I’m liquefying into something else,
Someone I don’t understand,
Someone different.
Someone not so handcuffed to my past?
I wish.
God, I wish, that were true. That the stress of my life was coming to an end instead of just beginning.
She prods the tip of her boot against mine. “You are doing okay with that, right? I mean, with all the touching we did in class?”
I twist the tuning pegs on the top of the guitar handle. “I’m fine. I promise. You don’t need to constantly worry about me.”
“That will never happen, so get over it.”
Quiet stretches between us as I work on tuning my guitar and Lyric messes with one of the amps. She’s wearing a short black dress with red flowers on the bottom. Every time she bends over, she flashes me. I don’t look away. I have tried too many times and realize how pointless it is to fight my attraction to her anymore.
“Oh, I thought of a name for our band.” She stands up straight, tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, and then her brows dip. “Wait. Were you just checking out my ass?”