“She wouldn’t tell me anything either,” I grumbled, hating that my other half was leaving me out. But then again, she always had when it came to the stalker.
“Maybe you should run toward your broken heart, though, Mila.”
“I don’t have a broken heart, Mom,” I told her honestly. “My heart is…missing.”
“Ah, honey.” She walked around the table and wrapped her arms around me. “I know how that feels. Really, I do. Which is why I want you to go and get your heart back.”
“What?” I cried, looking at her like she’d lost her mind, even as excitement and hope bubbled in my veins. “You mean that?”
“Go for the weekend. Have a little fun.” She gave me a big squeeze before releasing me. “And this time, make sure you get his damn number.”
“But what about Dad?” There was no way he was going to be on board with me flying to New York for a weekend to meet up with some guy who might not even want to see me again.
She exhaled heavily. “It wouldn’t be the first time I lied to him for you, Mila. And as long as I tell him you went to visit a friend—and leave out where this friend lives—it wouldn’t really be a lie. Now, would it?”
With a happy squeal, I threw my arms around her neck. “You are the absolute best mother any girl could have. I love you so much, Mom.”
“I love you too, Mila.” She kissed my cheek then nodded toward the table. “Let’s get this table set. Your dad will be home soon. After we eat, you can pack while I get you a plane ticket.”
◆◆◆
Maverick drove me to the airport the next morning. I’ve never been a bubbly person before, but I annoyed him half to death on the drive because I was practically dancing in the passenger seat with excitement.
By that night, I would get to see Lyric again. Not a picture of him from the past, or one of his twin, which only annoyed me because Luca was not my Lyric.
My brother grumbled that I’d been replaced by a doppelganger because I’d gone from moping around the house to so happy I couldn’t sit still overnight. I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t been myself since we’d come back from New York. But maybe once I saw Lyric again, and we figured this thing out—maybe even decided we could play the whole long-distance relationship game—I wouldn’t be so moody.
Mav pulled to a stop at the front entrance of the airport and turned to glare at me. He looked so much like Dad, it was scary at times. For the longest time, Mav hadn’t known how to handle his height, and it wasn’t until he was sixteen and started lifting weights that he’d begun to fill out. But even when he’d looked like a scrawny bean pole, River couldn’t keep her hands off him. “You better be careful. And if you need anything, call Garret. He’s the only one I trust in that city to help you if you run into trouble.”
“What’s he going to do?” I asked with a snort.
“He might be younger than us, but the kid is resourceful.” Leaning over, he hugged me hard. “It’s going to be weird as fuck with both you and Mon gone. What the hell am I supposed to do without either of you around?”
Spending nine months in a womb together had bonded us. Maverick might go his own way and do his own thing most of the time, but he would be eternally connected to both Monroe and me. The three of us needed each other to survive just as much as we needed food and water.
I hugged him back, inhaling his scent to hopefully get me by for the next few days I was going to be gone. The comforting smell of his cologne calmed me, and I smacked a kiss on his cheek before pulling back and reaching for the door handle. “Love you, Mav. Stay out of trouble.”
“That’s my line, Mil,” he said with a smirk. “Be good. Don’t do anything that will get you arrested.”
Blowing him a kiss, I grabbed my purse and carry-on out of the back seat of his car. But then I was sprinting inside, too excited to get on that plane to spend extra time telling my brother how much I loved him.
Chapter 10
Mila
I was a confident person, so being assailed by nervousness was a rare thing for me. But it seemed Lyric brought out that kind of vulnerability in me.
I didn’t even check in to the hotel where Mom had made a reservation for me. I hoped I wouldn’t even need that room once I saw Lyric, so it would have been a waste of money anyway.
From the airport, I grabbed a taxi to Branch House of Ink. It was already dark out by the time the driver pulled up outside the posh brownstone. A piece of welded metal on the sidewalk in front of the building held a plaque talking about Dustin Branch. I barely glanced at it before my eyes drifted to the front window.
The glass was frosted, offering privacy. Masculine black script across the frost declared this Branch House of Ink with an OPEN sign turned on.
Clenching my fingers around the handle of my carry-on, I walked up the few steps to the front door and stepped inside.
Rock music played quietly through discreetly placed speakers. The lighting was soft, almost intimate. An elegant sitting area was off to one side, and a woman with the most beautiful mocha skin I’d ever seen was sitting behind the reception desk.
“Welcome to Branch House,” she greeted in an oddly soothing voice. I almost shivered as I looked at her, imagining her using that voice to lure sailors to their death like the beautiful siren she was. “May I help you?”
Pushing down a fresh wave of nervousness, I smiled at her. “I’m here to see Lyric.”
Her golden eyes glanced down at my carry-on with a knowing grin. “He’s a popular one with the ladies today, that’s for sure. First, the sweet little blonde, now you.” Shaking her head, she nodded toward the back. “Go on back, sweetie. He doesn’t have a client for another half an hour. Third door on the left.”
Ignoring the comment about the “sweet little blonde,” I walked around the desk, leaving my case where it was. All that was in it was clothes and a little makeup, so it wasn’t like I was worried it would get stolen.
As I walked back to where the artists worked, I passed a few open doors. In one, a woman with bright pink hair was inking some guy’s back. His shirt was off, and his arms were sleeved up in mostly black with a few splashes of red and yellow here and there. His head was turned away from the door, and I thought I heard him snoring over the buzz of the tattoo gun and soft music.
Lyric’s laugh coming from several doors down stopped me in my tracks. The sound warmed something in me that I hadn’t realized was cold, and I pressed my hand to the center of my chest, my fingers brushing over his key.
Needing to see him, touch him—taste him—again, I forced my feet to move me forward. But before I could reach the third door on the left, I heard a gentle voice coming from the same room where I’d just heard Lyric laughing.
“Ric, are you sure I won’t bother you while you’re working?”
“You would never bother me, Vi.” His deep voice reached me. “I only have one client tonight anyway. Once I’m finished here, we can grab some dinner and head back to my place.”
Jealousy hit me like a freight train. Ric? I instantly hated the shortening of his name. Clenching my jaw, I took the last few steps that would allow me to glance into his room. From where I was standing, I could see them, but they weren’t looking toward the door and didn’t see me.
A blonde sat on a table like the one on which the sleeping guy was getting inked down the hall. Lyric sat on his rolling chair, between the blonde’s legs, his forearms on her thighs, his head slightly tilted back to look up at her. The place where my heart was supposed to be clenched at the sight of him, only to squeeze so hard it was difficult to breathe. “I only have you for a few days, Vi. Of course I want you here with me while I’m working. I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”
“I was worried about you,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his forehead. “You’ve been too quiet lately.”
“I’m glad you came. I’ve missed you so damn much, sweetheart.”
Swallowing hard, I stepped back when I sensed the blonde’s head was about to lift. My eyes burned, but there was no way in hell I was going to cry. Fuck that. I refused to cry over a guy I never should have let my heart get attached to in the first damn place.
Turning, I walked back to the front and grabbed my carry-on. “Thanks,” I muttered to the receptionist, unable to meet her gaze. “But do me a solid and don’t tell him I was here.”
“No sweat, sweetie.” She gave me a wave, and I walked out the door into the humid summer air.
The loudness of the city, the bright lights, the smells of exhaust and garbage felt like they were overloading my senses, turning my stomach. Clenching my teeth against the overstimulation, I breathed through the wave of nausea and flagged down a passing taxi. Giving him the name of the airport I’d flown into earlier, I dropped back against the seat and closed my eyes.
Why did I even think Lyric would be missing me like I missed him? We’d both agreed it was a one-night thing. I should have accepted that. No doubt, he’d had plenty of other girls in his bed since me, and it looked like the pretty blonde with the sweet voice was the one who would be warming it tonight.