Page 117 of Chasing Lyric
She’s merely making me work for it.
And I don’t blame her.
I fucked up—royally.
So, I have to do something big. Epic. Something she willneverexpect of me. Something no one else has been able to do. And I know just the thing.
Thisisnotthe time for phase four.
Prepare for‘The Hallmark Maneuver.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
CHASE
A Month Later
This past month has been the hardest of my life.
I’m messing up at work, I’m drinking myself to sleep, despair is my middle name, and I’m a screwed-up mess without Lyric.
I’ve been driving past her house to check in on her occasionally. Seeing her puppy growing is like watchingourchild grow. I know the puppy’s a boy because she’s called him Peter. Weird name for a dog, you might think, but all I can think of when I found out was she called him that after Peter fromThe Night Agent—the show we always binge-watched together on Netflix. Peter might be another man’s name, but he reminds her of me. I’m sure of it. So, I’ve marked that down as a win.
The thing is, my work habits have gone to hell lately because I can’t get my mind off Lyric.
And today is no exception.
Lyric’s at work, and I should be too, but like some days around lunchtime, I’ve found myself here, at her home. Her neighbor, Mrs. McIntosh, has spotted me a few times and threatened to call the police. I told her I am Lyric’s dog-sitter, a small lie, but she seemed to back off.
I walk down Lyric’s driveway, waving at Mrs. McIntosh. The frail old lady waves back as I make my way toward the backyard, opening the rear gate. Peter greets me in his cute little puppy-dog way, jumping up on me, wagging his tail, before I bend down and give him a pet, then kick the gate shut behind me.
“Hey, Petey! How are we doing today, buddy?” I ask him as I lift him in my arms. His tongue darts out, smacking up the side of my face in a drooly lick.
I walk with Petey around the back of her house and up onto the deck to the rear of the sunroom. The sounds of the ocean soothe me as warmth floods my chest when I see Polly glancing out the giant windows like he’s waiting for me.
“Rawrr…bonjour,”Polly screeches out the tiny opening in the window, which Lyric leaves open for Polly to get fresh air. I move to the wooden chair on the back deck and sit with Petey on my lap. He jumps about like the playful pup he is, so I pet his fur as he nuzzles into me and gradually drifts off to sleep.
“Hey, Polly, are you having a good day?” I ask him. I know my conversations with him aren’t entirely accurate because he answers with random words, but I enjoy them anyway.
“Rawrr…feed me, feed me.”
I chuckle, low and rough. “Right down to business, huh, Polly?” I reach into my pocket, pull out some apple slices, and hold them up. “All right, boss, here you go.”
Petey shifts beside him, nosing at the packet like he’s ready for his cut too.
I arch a brow. “You too? Damn, anyone watching would think your mom’s starving you. But we both know that’s bullshit.” I toss Petey a slice, smirking. “Pair of freeloaders, that’s what you are.”
“Rawrr…fuck off, fuck off.”
I laugh again as I open the bag, pull out a slice, and slide it through the small crack in the window, handing it to Polly. He picks it up with his foot and starts to nibble. I wish I could chat with Lyri and tell her how much I miss her. The problem is, last time I came in too soon and ruined everything, so this time I have to play it smart.
She’s angry.
Rightly so.
I need to do this the correct way, no matter how much it’s killing me.
Petey nudges at my hand again, those big eyes locked in like he’s making demands now. I grunt, shaking my head. “You’re hanging around Polly too much. You’re picking up his attitude.”
