Chapter Twenty-One
CHASE
A Week Later
I’ve been stopping by Lyric’s house to check on her.
I’ve found a route that takes advantage of the dead spots of the sensor light, then I leave before the Laguna Beach Security patrol car drives by.
She’s much the same, though.
Wallowing in misery.
I hate seeing her this way. I just want to make her feel better, but Dax has a plan.
Phase two.
It’s Monday morning, and after more than a week of plotting, we’re finally putting the damn thing into motion.
The nerves sit deep in my gut, churning like I’m about to walk into the ring with my hands still taped and bleeding.
This has to land better than the basket.
I can’t afford another blow like that. Not when the stakes are her.
We pull up in Dax’s car a block down from Lyric’s house, tucked behind a row of parked SUVs. The engine cuts, but the thump of my heartbeat doesn’t. It drums hard and fast in my chest, tightening everything inside me until I feel like I might explode before I even step out of the car.
My jaw clenches. My palms are damp against my jeans. Every part of me is tense, coiled, and waiting.
This is it.
It has to work.
Because the truth is, I need her back, not just for peace of mind, not for pride or ego, but because without her, the world feels off-center. She grounds me, and right now, I’m drifting.
Beside me, Dax blows out a slow breath and glances my way. “Okay, man… you got the first one?”
I pull open the folder. We thought the best way not to fuck up was to be organized. So, everything’s in order.
Note one—check.
We thought I should start with a compliment. Something to break the ice. Something to make Lyric feel good.
I take in the note with my handwriting scrawled across it.
You’re as stunning today as you were the day I met you.
Have a good day at work, Starlight. xo
I don’t have to see her to know she will look amazing when she reads this note. I know it will be truthful because Lyric is the most gorgeous woman in the world.
In my world.
Because she is my world.
“Let’s do this,” I mutter as I grab the handle of the car door and slowly edge out. It’s early, but I know exactly what time Lyric goes to work. I know, because I know her. And this last week, Dax and I have been madly doing recon for this exact moment.
Dax stays back in the car as I rush into her driveway, keeping down so she can’t see me through her giant bay window. I sneak up to her car, attaching the note under her windshield wiper. I place a kiss on the tips of my fingers and press them to the paper.
Tacky? Maybe.
But I want Lyric to know I still love her.
I quickly turn, making a mad dash back to the car. Dax reaches across, opening the door for me, and I slide in and let out a relieved breath.
“Step one complete. Now she just has to read it,” Dax offers.
“She’ll read it. A note on her truck will grab her attention,” I tell him as Lyric walks out of her front door.
I duck down a little lower. We’re back far enough that she won’t notice us, but I still feel like I need to hide.
I can only just see above the dash. I have to wait now, my stomach sinking, wondering how she’ll take it.
Lyric looks so good. Dressed in her usual work outfit, her hair framing her perfect face, which has a slight smattering of makeup, but it doesn’t hide the darkness under her eyes.
Lyric’s in the zone as her feet drag to the truck.
She’s simply going through the motions, off to work for another day.
My stomach tightens. She’s going to get in the truck without seeing my note, but suddenly, she stops.
Her whole body turns to the front of the vehicle.
She stills as her head turns all around the street, checking everywhere.
We both duck down farther, trying to conceal ourselves, my heart thumping at the thought of being caught before phase two has had a chance to get off the ground.
Lyric hesitates, but gently eases out the note from under the wiper like it might be poison or something.
My stomach lurches up into my throat watching her face while she unfolds it, then reads my words.
Suddenly, she skims the street again, her eyes hard.
She curls up her lip in anger, huffs, and scrunches up the note.
It’s thrown to the ground before she turns and slides into the driver’s side, seeming completely aggravated by my attempt.
I let out a disappointed exhale as Dax starts the car. “Sorry, man,” he mutters as my chest squeezes with hurt. I honestly thought she might show a little bit of something other than disdain.
Dax pulls away from the curb. I know we have to leave right now to keep this thing going. We have to stick to the plan, but damn if this doesn’t hurt.
“Hey!” Dax calls out as he speeds off. “Don’t you do that, soldier. Do you think the troops in World War II backed away when they came up against the Taliban?”
I cock my head to the side, thinking his words through. “Ahh, Dax, I think you’re getting your wars mixed up. The Taliban are in—”
“Whatever, dude, you’re missing my point,” he almost yells in frustration.
His tantrum actually makes me laugh. “Look… all I’m saying is, when the odds are stacked against you, you need to dig deeper because wars aren’t won in a day, my friend.
They’re won with time and a hell of a lot of patience.
You gotta be in Lyrical Revival for the long haul, Chase.
It won’t happen overnight, but it will happen.
In the words of the great Whitney and Mariah, it will, ‘When you believe.’ ” He sings the last part from the Disney movie soundtrack.
“Fuck, Dax, you’re so full of shit, you actually have me believing in you.”
He chuckles, forcing his foot down on the gas, driving faster. “There you go… now push the red button.”
I groan. “Your car doesn’t have a red button like in Men in Black, Dax.”
He squints like he’s trying to keep a big secret. “But can’t we pretend? Turbo mode on, vroom, vroom!” He presses down on the accelerator harder again, making me lurch back into my seat.
“This is going to be a long day,” I mumble to myself while rolling my eyes.
The drive doesn’t take long, not with Dax flipping into what he calls MIB turbo mode. He slams on the brakes like he’s auditioning for Fast & Furious: Delusional Edition, the car skidding sideways into a parking spot with a squeal of tires and zero respect for physics.
I brace myself with one hand on the dash, the other shooting to the ceiling as I glare at him. “You keep driving like that, and we’re going to end up arrested… or buried.”
Dax grins, completely unbothered. “Hopefully by a hot female cop who’s real enthusiastic about a pat-down.”
“You’re such a dork.”
He claps twice, sharp and loud like he’s wrangling a bunch of kindergartners. “Chop chop, Romeo. Time’s a ticking. You’ve got about three minutes before she shows. So move your ass.”
With a renewed sense of purpose and a tightened spine, I pull the second note from the folder. Dax and I make our way toward the coffee shop Lyric hits nearly every morning, nine days out of ten, if her routine hasn’t changed. I just hope today isn’t the damn exception.
I glance down at the note in my hand, reading it over again. It’s simple, honest, and from the heart. But after the way the last one played out, doubt creeps in anyway. I can only pray this one lands better, or at least doesn’t end with another trip to the trash.
Waking up with you beside me, that’s the dream.
I want to be the one who makes your first coffee of the day,
and the one who gives you a reason to smile before you even take the first sip.
This cup’s on me, beautiful. xo
We saunter into the shop where the aroma of fresh coffee and sweet baked goods smacks my senses.
Dax eye-fucks the young redhead behind the counter.
I close my eyes and simply breathe slowly, then open them again.
I swear my best friend has the libido of a sixteen-year-old boy who’s just discovered how good your hand can be for the first time.
We step up to the counter, and the girl thrusts her tits forward in an all-too-obvious way.
But Dax needs to keep his mind on the task at hand.
He performs the usual stupid cocky shit he does with his face that women love.
That smirk, that sideways glance, the flicking of his eyebrows up and down, they’re all done expertly to reel them in.
She bats her eyelashes in response, thinking she has a chance at a serious relationship with California’s most eligible.
She doesn’t.
“Well, hello…” his eyes drop to the nametag sitting right over her left breast, “… Carlee. Two e’s… that’s sooo interesting,” his tone drips with mock lust, and I physically have to hold in my gag reflex.
She giggles, and I let out a frustrated groan, then she twirls her flaming red hair around one finger. “Is it? It’s just what I’m used to.”
Dax accentuates the stupid, damn smirk on his face. “Oh, and what else are you used to, Carlee?” I grunt, nudging him hard. “Oh, right. Listen, Carlee, you seem like a woman who would do anything to help out the course of true love, right?”
Her eyelashes flutter as she stares at Dax like she’s just fallen into ‘true love.’
“Hurry this along, Dax,” I mutter under my breath.
Carlee nods matter-of-factly, then bites her bottom lip. “Mm-hmm.”
Dax wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Well, my man here has a dilemma. His woman is a little testy with him right now, and we’re trying to get him back into her good graces.
So, this is where you come in, Carlee.” The way he sings her name, I’m sure, is making her stomach flutter, but mine merely churns.
She leans forward, seeming intrigued. “What do you need me to do?”
“You ever heard of Cupid?”
She appears as confused as I am with where he’s going with this. “You want me to shoot her with an arrow?”