“What’s wrong?” Monroe asked, her gaze lifting to take in Lyric before going back to me. Her eyes were still full of sadness, and it wasn’t a second later before she was reaching for that damn medallion that wasn’t around her neck. When she didn’t feel it, she balled her hand into a tight fist and dropped it to her side.
“Mon, this is Lyric. Lyric, my sister, Monroe,” I introduced. “Now you know who I’m with. We’re going to get out of here. Please cover for me.”
My sister was used to me doing things like this, so it didn’t surprise her, but she still shook her head at me. “Mila.”
“Thanks, Mon,” I said, kissing her cheek. “I’ll owe you one,” I told her before stepping back. “I promise to be there before it’s time to leave for the church.”
“You better be,” she grumbled and walked back to her chair.
“You have a twin sister?” Lyric commented as we walked out of the club.
I shrugged. “Monroe and I are identical, but we’re actually triplets. My brother, Maverick, was the one lip-locked with the gorgeous blonde.”
“Mila.” He stopped once we were outside and turned to face me. “I have an identical twin brother.”
Surprised, I blinked up at him a few times then ran my eyes over him from head to toe again. “Your poor mother,” I said with a grin. “She had to birth two of you beasts at once?”
A hearty laugh left him. “Guess that’s why she and Dad stopped after us.” Lifting a hand, he hailed a taxi. Not surprisingly, one pulled right up beside us within seconds. “You hungry?”
Even though it hadn’t been that long since I’d had Taco Bell with the others, I wasn’t going to turn down more food. I might have been on the small side, but I loved to eat. “I’m always hungry,” I told him as he slid into the back seat of the taxi before I could. Once I was beside him, I poked him in the ribs. “That wasn’t very gentlemanly of you, mister.”
Not that I was used to guys treating me like a lady, but for some reason, it had surprised me that Lyric hadn’t let me in first.
“It’s dangerous for a girl to get into a cab or an Uber first. The driver could drive away before I get a chance to get in.” He draped his arm over the back of the seat, and he turned his big body toward me. “My mom would kick my ass if I ever let a woman I’m with get into either before me, but I’m especially not taking the risk with you.”
“Because I’m oh-so-special,” I teased.
But his face was serious as he lowered his head so that our gazes locked in the dim light coming through the windows. “Yes,” was all he murmured before touching his lips to the corner of my mouth.
The kiss was over before I could even respond, and then he was lifting his head and telling the driver the address of his hotel. “Room service okay?” he asked, sitting back. Reaching across himself, he grabbed my hand and entwined our fingers. “If not, I think there is a really good restaurant across the street.”
“Room service is perfect,” I assured him, loving how he was playing with my fingers. His hand was so big, my hand looked childlike in his. It should have been weird, yet it was kind of comforting.
All my life, I had been surrounded by big, alpha MC men who would kill anyone who so much as looked threateningly at me. Not that I needed them to. My mom and aunts had more than taught me how to take care of myself. Yet right there in the back of that taxi with Lyric—a guy whose last name I didn’t even know—I’d never felt safer.
“What’s your last name?” he asked when the driver stopped for the next red light.
“Masterson. Yours?”
He frowned down at me. “You don’t know who I am?”
I elbowed him in the side. “Am I supposed to? I’ll admit you look familiar to me, but no, I don’t have a clue who you are.”
A huge grin split his face, making him that much more handsome. Damn, but when he grinned like that, I became spellbound. It wasn’t fair. Guys shouldn’t look that good—ever.
“My mom will fucking love you,” he muttered, shaking his dark head. “My last name is Thornton.”
Oh shit.
My sharp inhale told him I’d put it together, and he only laughed. “Yeah, Jesse Thornton is my dad. Luca Thornton is my twin brother.”
“Luca means nothing to me. I’m not even sure why you would bring him up.” I touched my ribs where the verse of my favorite Demon’s Wings song was tattooed. Dear Lord, Lyric’s dad was the drummer of my all-time favorite band.
Fuck, I’d only had one shot of the Spirytus…right?
This couldn’t be real life. A girl like me didn’t hook up with the son of the richest drummer in the world. I had to be dreaming…or hallucinating.
“You must not follow football, then,” he said, not seeming in the least offended I didn’t know who his brother was. “Luca just went into the draft this spring. He was a first-round pick for Tennessee.”
“My brother would understand what you just said, but none of that makes the slightest bit of sense to me.” I wasn’t going to pretend to know what kind of draft his twin had been in or what team Tennessee was. I knew there were a few pro teams in California, but other than that, football was not a language I spoke.
His laugh vibrated through him and into me, making my chest swell at the sound. “I love that you don’t know who he is, or understand anything about football. Means I can teach you and you haven’t ever salivated over my bro like so many others have.”
“Well, I mean, I’ve been kind of drooling over you for a good thirty minutes now,” I told him with a teasing smirk. “You’re identical, so that kinda means I have been. No!” I squealed when he started tickling me. “Okay, I’m sorry,” I giggled, but I didn’t try to get away from him. “Please. I didn’t mean it.”
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, lowering his head to touch his lips to the sensitive skin directly under my ear. “And that giggle. Fuck, I’ve never heard a prettier sound in my life.”
Gasping for breath that had nothing to do with laughing so hard, I turned my head and brushed my lips over his. It was just a quick touch of our mouths, but when I pulled back and licked my lips, all I could taste was him.
“Wh-what job did you land?” I stuttered, needing to put our minds on something other than how much we wanted each other. “You… You said you got your…erm, dream job?”
His tongue skimmed over his bottom lip, as if savoring my taste just as much as I had his. “I start working with Dustin Branch at Branch House of Ink on Monday.”
“You what?” I half screamed, so damn excited for him, I was practically bouncing on the bench seat.
No tattoo enthusiast in the country could say they didn’t know who Dustin Branch was. The man was a legend and didn’t hire just anyone. If Lyric had scored a job working under the genius artist, he must have some sick skills. “That is phenomenal, Lyric. I’m so proud of you. My dad owns the only ink shop in Creswell Springs, but he would give that up in the blink of an eye to work with Branch for a single weekend.”
“Is your dad hiring?” he asked, making me laugh so hard, I snorted.
“That’s hilarious.”
“Yeah, hilarious,” he muttered, not even cracking a smile for a moment before changing the subject. “You work at your pop’s place?”
“Sometimes. I run the front on the weekends or when things get really busy in the evening after school. I have no artistic skills. Those traits only passed to Maverick, who started apprenticing the second we turned eighteen a few weeks ago.”
“You’re freshly eighteen?” he asked with a raised brow.
“I’m legal,” I rushed to assure him. “Don’t think you’re with jailbait, okay?”
“Wouldn’t have mattered,” he said, but it was almost like he was talking to himself, he spoke so quietly. “I’m lost, and you’re still turning me in circles, my Mila.”
Chapter 5
Lyric
Stephen lived in the city, had grown up there, and probably would die there. But his apartment was small, and we were both bulky guys. I didn’t want to trip over him every time I turned around, so I was staying in a hotel until I found my own place. When I group-texted Mom and Aunt Emmie earlier to tell them I got the job, my aunt said she was already looking at apartments and would send me the details.
But I would worry about that later. Tonight, all my focus was on Mila.
With a buffet of room service spread around the sitting area of my hotel room, she was shamelessly eating everything in sight, and I fucking loved it. Most girls I shared a meal with would order a salad and pick at it, as if they were afraid of showing me they actually ate. It was annoying and boring.
My Mila was anything but boring. She was full of spirit and fire, and every word out of her sexy as hell mouth knocked me on my ass.
As she used a fork to eat a boneless wing smothered in barbecue sauce and dipped in ranch, she flipped through my portfolio. Every turn of the page, she made an appreciative noise, admiring my work, and I was filled with pride all over again. But nothing—fucking nothing—could compare to her saying she was proud of me for landing the job at Branch House of Ink.