Page 42 of Lost Lyrebird
Lily offers the bride-to-be her dress.The girls freak right the fuck out, giddy with excitement.The bride immediately starts bawling and throws her arms around Lily’s neck.
Dozer moves to stop the physical contact, but I wave him off.Let the bride have her moment.
The girls scream in delight when the bride turns and holds up the dress like a trophy.The rest of the crowd cheers.Lily seems to delight in their happiness a moment before she waves goodbye to them.She blows the rest of the room a kiss and even does a cute little princess curtsy, gaining herself one last round of applause and high-pitched whistles.
Jesus.
This fucking woman.
Where in the fuck did she come from?
And how in the ever-loving hell did she learn to do everything she just did?Also, she left every single bill thrown her way on the stage.What is that about?
I radio Raven and tell her to send someone out there to collect it.She tells me she’s already on it, because apparently, she already knew this was going to happen.I’m the only one left in the dark.
Story of my fucking life.
CHAPTER 11
Most women will only trust a man to protect and shelter her once.
Then she’ll shelter and protect herself.
Sliding into my car after another long night at the club, I scroll through my playlist as I pull out of Wet Tips’ parking lot.I flip through song after song until I find the one that’ll drown out my doubts about who I’ve chosen to pull me into the HOCs instead of Finn—because that beautiful bastard is making it damn near impossible to ignore him.
Finn is a complication I don’t need and can’t afford.
Stone’s the easy mark.Attractive enough, but that’s not the point.He’s weak to persuasion, especially the kind wrapped in sex and whispered promises.He’s a man ruled by his dick.And I can use that.
When “Numb” by Linkin Park hits my speakers, I crank the volume and roll down the windows.
Once I’m on the highway, I check my mirrors.Once, twice.Old habits die hard.Sure, it’s to check that I’m not being followed—but it’s a small reminder that my history with Finn needs to stay exactly where it belongs: in the rearview.
Earlier tonight, after my routine, he asked to see me.Said he’d been getting questions from waitresses and staff—clients sniffing around for private dances.He wanted to know if I was ready for that.
The conversation was awkward as hell.His eyes said he hated every second of it.His body language screamed he was forcing himself to go through the motions.
What kills me is how being around him shreds my calm.Every look he gives me slides under my skin and splits me wide open.I hate it—how his eyes wreck me, how my body hums when he’s close.
Fuck.I’m barely days into this job and already questioning everything.How I’m supposed to survive months of this, I have no goddamn idea.And seeing that same storm of emotion in his eyes?Doesn’t bode well for either of us.
Are you the desperate girl who lets a man turn her inside out?No.You’re stronger.Wiser.Fucking act like it.
Honestly, I don’t know this woman.She’s not whose skin I’ve lived in these last few years.
The end game is what matters now, and there’s too damn much riding on my success to fuck this up.
I force myself to shut down these feelings and focus on what’s important.
With my weak self firmly tucked away, I drive.Knowing I’m too wired to sleep, I pass the exit for my hotel and continue on.I re-familiarize myself with the city.It’s changed so much since I’ve been away, yet some things remain the same.I stop at a gas station, fill up, and grab some snacks.Eventually, I park so I can watch the sunrise.It’s mid-morning when the first few raindrops begin to hit my windshield.
I take this as a sign to call it a night—or morning, whatever—and head back to the hotel.I get about five hours of sleep before my phone rings, jolting me awake.
The five-zero-five area code takes me by surprise.Because yeah,it’s him, Finn, and suddenly all those feelings I’d successfully buried hours ago resurface.
I slowly hit accept and bring the phone to my ear.“Hello.”
“Lily?
