“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?”

“Alyric Bliss?

“How’d you come up with that?” Nolan asks, unscrewing the cap from a bottle of water.

Lyric shrugs. “I just played with some words.”

“It has your name in it,” Sage points out with a bang of the symbol.

“So?” Lyric shrugs again. “My name is awesome.”

Sage considers the name, bobbing his head up and down. “I kind of like the sound of it.” He looks to Nolan, who shrugs.

“I’m good with it.” He takes a swig of water then sets the bottle down on the floor.

Sage glances at me. “What do you think?”

“I’m good with it.” I grab my guitar from Lyric.

“I’m also going to work on creating a band logo,” Lyric adds, cracking her knuckles. “Put my art talent to use.”

“You’re an artist?” Sage questions. “Since when?”

“Since forever,” Lyric replies. “My mom’s one, too.”

“A woman of many talents,” Sage muses thoughtfully as he taps a drumstick against the symbol.

“FYI, I put the A at the front of Alyric Bliss to stand for your name,” Lyric whispers to me when Sage isn’t paying attention. “Don’t say anything, though. Sage won’t use it if he knows. He’ll make us change it to an S.”

I can’t help laughing.

Sage raises the drumsticks in the air and hollers, “Alyric Bliss.” He moves to slam the drumsticks down, but freezes when the door swings open.

“Dad?” Lyric rises to her feet as Mr. Scott walks in. “What are you doing here?”

Sage’s eyes widen and his lips part, completely star stuck by the sight of the retired rocker. Nolan seems a little more at ease, but he still gapes.

Mr. Scott briefly glances at me, and I feel like somehow he knows what I was doing with his daughter, even though there’s no way he possibly could. Our parents are clueless about our stolen kisses and heavy making out. If they did know, I’m sure they’d start making us keep our bedroom doors open when we’re together and stop allowing Lyric to occasionally fall asleep in my bed.

Mr. Scott tears his attention off me and focuses on Lyric. “You said I needed to see you play. That, if I did, I would be begging for you to be in my lineup.” He drops down in a fold-up chair near the door, reclines back, and folds his arms. “So let’s see your awesomeness.”

Lyric looks at me helplessly. She’s terrified of messing up, of her stage fright, of not impressing her father.

With my guitar still in hand, I step behind her and lean over her shoulder. “You’ve got this,” I whisper, grazing my finger along the inside of her wrist. “It’s just like the first time you sang in front of Sage. Pretend it’s only you in the room.”

She turns her head toward me, our lips almost touching. “Can I pretend you’re in the room with me?”

I nod as my heart swells in my chest. Her words pierce my soul. How much she trusts me. How much I want her to trust me. How much I’m pretty sure we’re not just friends anymore.

We’re so much more.

Chapter 10

Lyric

I feel like I’m going to throw up as I raise the microphone to my mouth and prepare to sing in front of my dad. I’d rather run out the door and hide. What keeps my feet planted on the floor is what Ayden whispered in my ear.