Unraveling You (Unraveling You #1)(19)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

I start to move with her, even though I have no clue what I’m doing. No fucking idea. All I know is I’m left wanting, wanting, wanting.

Wanting her.

Wanting more.

But I’m too afraid to take it.

Chapter 7

Lyric

I’m a sporadic person. That’s been a given since I first learned how to talk. So when I declare my love for someone, it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise. Yet, it always seems to be with everyone. My parents especially. Whenever I proclaim my love for someone new, they seem shocked, like they half expected me to say someone else.

Ayden should know better by now, though, since he understands my little quirks better than anyone.

“I think I’m in love,” I announce to him as I stroll into his bedroom.

He’s situated on the bed, fiddling with the guitar Ethan bought him for his birthday a few months ago. After a little bit of practice, he’s gotten pretty good at it, enough that he joined a band per my suggestion, and now he’s living out my lifelong dream. But it’s my own damn fault for letting my fear control me.

He glances up from his guitar as I shut the door, his fingers continuing to pluck the strings. “Who is it this time? The drummer from that concert?” He seems more annoyed than usual.

Rolling up the paper I brought over with me, I narrow my eyes at him as I flop down onto the mattress on my stomach. “No, not him. And what do you mean ‘this time’?” I prop up on my elbows as the sunlight hits my face through the window. “Are you mocking me, Ayden Gregory, about my frequency in love declarations?”

He rolls his eyes, lays the guitar aside on the mattress, and brushes strands of his black hair out of his eyes as he relaxes back on the bed. “This is the third time in the last four months you’ve barged into my room and said the exact same thing to me.” I pout out my lip, and he sighs, gathering a guitar pick from the pillow. “Fine, who are you in love with?” He fiddles around with the pick, sketching the tip up and down the scars on the back of his hand.

I still don’t know where the scars came from. I want to ask him, but any time I even mention Ayden’s life before the Gregorys, he gets squeamish, which makes me question how he’s going to handle the papers I brought over with me. I have to tell him, though. After spending the last few months searching for his brother, I finally stumbled across something, not about his brother, but about his past.

I kneel up on the bed in front of him. “It’s William Stephington.”

His face squishes in disgust. “Ew, that jock, steroid freak?”

“Hey.” I swat his arm. “He’s not a steroid freak.”

“That’s not what I heard.” He frowns, staring at me undecidedly. “Lyric, I know you might not want to hear this, but I think you should stay away from that guy. And I really think you should talk to him for more than ten minutes before you decide you’re in love with him.”

“I’ve talked to him quite a few times at school. And besides, I agreed to go out with him tonight.”

His frown deepens. “Lyric, the guy’s got a reputation for being a …” He deliberates his word choice while staring at a Pink Floyd poster on the ceiling that I gave him for his birthday. “A manwhore douche.”

“Manwhore douche? Wow, those are some colorful words.”

“Well, he is.”

I scrape at my blue fingernail polish, choosing my next words carefully. “Even if he is, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not a douche or a whore. I haven’t even kissed a guy yet.” I hop off the bed. “But that’s going to change tonight.”

He pulls a face, clearly irritated, which isn’t typical for him. Usually, Ayden is the most agreeable person in the world, always trying to please everyone. “Don’t waste your first kiss on that asshole.”

“Hey, I’ve been saving my first kiss for over seventeen years now, so trust me when I say that when it happens, it’s not going to be something I do with an asshole.”

“He’s not the guy who’s going to change your soul, Lyric. Or make you write any better. He’s not the life experience you’re searching for.”

I sternly point a finger at him. “Hey, I told you all that stuff in confidence.”

His gaze scans the vacant room with his hands spread out. “Am I telling anyone else? No, I’m just reminding you what you told me—that this isn’t what you want. You’re saving your first kiss for a guy that will make you be able to pour your soul out onto paper, give you something to write about. And I don’t believe that that’s going to be William Stephington.” His face twists with disgust again.

I fold my arms across my chest, and his gaze flicks to the papers in my hand. “Well, even if he isn’t, maybe it’s time to get this whole kissing thing over with. I mean, I’m seventeen years old, for God’s sake. No one is a virgin kisser at that age. Jesus, Maggie kissed her first guy when she was like fourteen. I had my chance, too, but no, I had to hold on to this crazy idea that kisses were supposed to be all romantic and planned.”

“It’s not that bad of a concept.”

“Yes it is. And it’s time for me to grow up.” I pause. “And why are you even lecturing me? I know you kissed a ton of girls before you came here.”

It’s just a guess, but when he doesn’t deny it, I assume I’m right.

Grief engraves into his face. “Don’t do that—change your dreams over some guy or belief based on other people. That’s not the Lyric I know and love. Besides, you hardly even know the guy. You’re way too trusting sometimes.”

I sigh, because he’s got me on that one. “Fine, I’ll reconsider the kiss, but I’m still trusting him enough to go out on the date, because that’s what I do.” I back up for the door, knowing that’s not true. I’ve passed up chance after chance of getting kissed, because my expectations are too high. “You know, if it really bothers you, you could always come with us.”

“On your date with you?” he says dryly. “Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun.”

“No, to the party we’re going to.”

I know he won’t. He made a commitment to do family movie night tonight, and Ayden hardly goes back on his commitments to the Gregorys, like he thinks he owes them for adopting him or something. Honestly, sometimes I believe that’s exactly what he thinks, which is sad.