Raveling You(35)

I don’t—can’t—be touched.



She must see the terror on my face because she quickly removes her hand. “I’m sorry. When I go too far, just say so, okay—”



The sound of the door swinging open cuts her off. I swiftly jerk the strap of her dress over her shoulder, and then we both bolt upright, tugging our clothes into place. We don’t move fast enough, and Nolan and Sage get a clear idea of what’s been going on.



“Oh,” Nolan says, glancing between Lyric and me. Then he busts up laughing, hunching over and cradling his stomach. “Dude, next time, lock the door.”



Sage doesn’t appear as amused. In fact, he seems really irate. I think about all the times I’ve caught him flirting with Lyric and checking her out and worry this might end up being one of those issues that breaks up the band.



“Do you want us to leave so you two can finish up?” Sage says flatly as he kicks the door shut.



Lyric combs her hair into place, calm as can be. “We’re good, but thanks.”



Sage’s eyes land on me, burning holes into my head. “What about you? You good? Or do you still need to go into the bathroom and finish off?”



“Knock it off.” I hate drama, and Sage is trying to stir it up.



A pucker forms at Sage’s brow, but the confusion quickly disappears as he turns around. “I’m going to go outside and smoke.” He storms out of the garage, slamming the door behind him.



An awkward silence forms between the three of us.



“I should go talk to him.” I get up and head for the door while Nolan sits down on one of the stools and starts tuning his guitar.



“Are you sure you want to?” Lyric calls out after me. “It might be better just to let him have his hissy fit and get over it.”



If Sage likes Lyric, then I’m not sure he’s going to get over her. Lyric isn’t the kind of girl you just get over.



“I’m just going to make sure he’s okay.” I slip out the door before she can say anything else.



When I find Sage, he’s sitting on the hood of his truck, puffing on a joint.



“Are you sure you should be doing that?” I hoist myself on the hood and prop my feet on the bumper. “What if someone sees you?”



He takes a drag, traps the smoke in his chest, and then exhales. “I really don’t give a shit who sees me.” He holds the joint between his fingers, staring at his neighbor’s house in the distance. “So, you guys are like a thing now?”



“I don’t know.” I tensely massage the back of my neck, unsure of what else to say to him.



He glances at me and arches a brow. “You don’t know?”



I shrug. “We haven’t really talked about it. Why are you so pissed about the idea, though?”



“Because I like her,” he says simply as the stench of weed circles around us. “That’s what I was actually trying to talk to you about. To see if you’d be cool with me dating her.”



“Oh.” I have no clue what to say to him.



We’re quiet for a while as he tokes up. He offers me a drag, but like always, I never take it.



“Well,” he finally says when we hear Nolan blast up the amp, “we should probably get inside.”



We hop off the hood, and I follow him toward the garage.



“Are we cool?” I ask as he grips the doorknob.



“Sure.” He shrugs as he takes another hit from the joint. “It’s probably my own damn fault for waiting too long, especially when I could be where you two were headed.”



He could? Because it took me a long fucking time.



He opens the door. “Besides, I probably shouldn’t get all tied up. Leaves room for groupies, right? That is, if we ever get a gig.”



I laugh, even though I think he’s only half joking.



When we enter the garage, Nolan and Lyric are rocking out on the guitars. Lyric is using mine, sitting on the edge of the sofa, while Nolan is the middle of the room, head banging.



As her fingers pluck the strings, Lyric’s gaze finds mine. Everything okay? she mouths, playing chord after chord.



I shrug and mouth, I think so.



I cross the room and sit down beside her. They finish the song, and when the room goes quiet, Sage clears his throat.



“I’m sorry for being a dick,” he apologizes to Lyric as he picks up his drumsticks.



“It’s okay,” she says with a small smile. “Just as long as you don’t do it again. And you let us use my name for the band.”



Sage plops onto the stool behind the drums and twirls his drumsticks. “What’s the name?”