Awakening You (Unraveling You 3)

“I’ll be the one to decide that.” I start to turn around to head for the kitchen, but he tightens his hold on me.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” There’s a playfulness to his voice that’s got me really curious where he’s going with this.

“Yeah, you kind of owe me.” It’s a lie. He doesn’t owe me anything, but I really want to hear him sing.

“Oh, yeah?” His lips dip toward my neck. “How do you figure?”

“Because you . . .” My eyes roll back, and my knees almost buckle as he sucks on the side of my neck.

The harder he sucks, the more difficult it becomes to keep my legs under me. Fortunately, he has his arms around me and keeps me from toppling to the ground.

“You sure you still want to hear me sing?” His warm breath falters against my neck. “Because I could . . . I could keep doing this.”

After I regain my breath, I glare at him from over my shoulder. “Don’t try to play me like a sucker. I know you’re trying to distract me, and it’s not going to work.” I slip out from under his arms and grab his hand. “Now, get your ass upstairs and sing for me so I can see if I’m ever going to be able to live out my dream of doing a duet with you.” I haul him toward the kitchen, giving a playful glance over my shoulder. “And, when we’re done, you can suck on my neck some more as punishment for trying to play me.”

“I’m all for the sucking on the neck part, but don’t say I didn’t warn you about the singing thing.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Even though I have no clue what his singing voice sounds like, the dreamer side of me believes it’s going to be low and smooth, like honey, and absolutely, one hundred percent dripping with sexiness. He may not agree with me, but he has zero confidence and doesn’t believe anything about him is good.

When we enter his room, I release his hand and cross my arms, refusing to let him off the hook, even when he gives me his sad, puppy dog eyes.

“All right, Shy Boy, show me what you’ve got.”

Chapter 12

Ayden

I love you. She said she loves me.

Love. Love. Love.

At first, I thought she was kidding.

I could see on her face that she wasn’t, though. I thought about talking her out of it, telling her she really doesn’t love me—couldn’t—but the longer I stared at her, the more I could see how truthful she was being. There was no way I was going to be able to talk her out of it.

It was that look that made me pinkie swear that I wouldn’t go looking for those places. I will keep my word, too, no matter how bad things get, because she’s Lyric and I . . .

I, what exactly?

I think deep down I know just how much I care about her.

Enough that I would give up almost anything.

Lyric watches me as I situate on the bed with my guitar on my lap. Her eyes are lit up with anticipation that my voice is going to sound amazing, and I feel bad that, in a moment, I’m going to let her down.

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” I ask, lining my fingers along the strings. “Because, once I sing, there’s no going back. That dream of yours will forever be crushed.”

She bounces down on the foot of the bed. “Just do it, Shy Boy.” She snaps her fingers impatiently. “Stop procrastinating.”

She’s still wearing her bikini, and the sight of her skin and curves is a nice distraction from the fact that I’m about to sing in front of someone for the very first time.

“All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I lean back against the headboard and think of which song to play. My instinct tells me to go with a cover song, but then I figure, if I’m doing this, I might as well go all the way and sing one of my own songs.

As I open my mouth, I have no idea which song is going to come out.

“Stuck in the dust

Of a soul that was crushed,

I silently bleed in the stillness.

Aching inside, most days I feel like I’m losing my mind.

I’m dying inside.

And no one can help me.”

I play a few more chords as I sing the chorus.

“Stuck in a sea of pain,

I thought nothing would ever change,

That my life would always be this way.”

My fingers strum the strings.

“You blindsided me out of nowhere,

Right when I was about to surrender to the darkness,

Swallow it down with a handful of pills and sink to the bottom of the water.

Take away the pain so I can’t feel it anymore.

So close to the edge,

You offered me your hand and dragged me to the shore.”

I stop playing, even though the song isn’t finished, because Lyric is crying. Hot tears spill down her cheeks as she hugs her knees to her chest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” I set my guitar aside and scoot down to the bottom of the bed beside her. “I don’t know why I picked that song. I should have sung something different. Something happier.”

“Is it true?” More tears stream from her eyes and down her cheeks. “Did you really think about taking your own life?”

I want to lie to her, but she deserves better.

“I used to, but I haven’t thought about it since . . . well, since you and I became friends.”

“Oh, Ayden, I never knew it was that bad for you.” She slides her legs to the side of the bed and throws her arms around me.

“It’s not that bad anymore.” I breathe in the scent of her as I wrap my arms around her. “I promise.”

I close my eyes and breathe in the truth. Yes, there’s a ton of stuff going on in my life that is bad, but the darkness that used to grasp me by the ankles and wrists has lightened. The pain isn’t so heavy, the scars easier to bear. But, if I’d never met Lyric and the Gregorys, I’m not sure I would have ever made it here to this moment.

“Your voice is beautiful, by the way,” she whispers. “Even better than I thought it was going to be, so now you have no more excuses not to sing with me.”

I want to argue with her, tell her she’s wrong. My voice isn’t beautiful. I can’t sing with her. Instead, I decide to nod and enjoy the moment I almost didn’t have.

Chapter 13

Ayden

The week is fairly uneventful, maybe even a little on the normal side. By Friday, I no longer have a detective tailing my every move. I make sure to do everything I’m supposed to and don’t wander off. My life consists of school, band practice, therapy, family time, and Lyric.

Lyric, Lyric, Lyric. I spend all my free time with her, yet it still never feels like enough. I don’t know what’s happening to me exactly, but something is definitely changing.

“Knock. Knock. Knock.” Lyric raps her hand on the doorframe as she strolls into my bedroom with her sketchbook tucked under her arm. She’s wearing a short purple dress, her leather jacket, and black platforms. Her hair is wild around her face, and her lips are stained pink and look absurdly tempting. “Happy tattoo day, Shy Boy.”

I prop my guitar against the wall, swing my legs over the edge, and stand to my feet. “Did you finish up the sketch?”

She bobs her head up and down enthusiastically. “I did. You want to see it?”

“Of course.” I reach to take the sketchbook, but she dodges out of my reach.

A slow, conniving grin spreads across her face. “It’ll cost you.”

My arm falls to my side, and my lips twitch with amusement. “What’s the price?”

She taps a finger against her lips. “Let me think about this. Something pretty awesome, of course, since this is a freaking amazing sketch. Not money. Not anything materialistic. How about a cookie . . . ? No, that doesn’t seem very awesome. I could always make you do a striptease.”