“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.
“I have band practice tonight.” He drops the guitar pick onto the pillow and sits up, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed as he stretches his arms over his head. “And then movie night afterward.”
I try not to stare when his shirt rides up, but it’s always difficult. On top of having a beautiful face, Ayden’s body is ridiculously amazing. Not super muscly or anything, just lean and toned.
One of my friends, Maggie, asked me how I can stand being friends with him without wanting to “get some of that.” I tell her it’s simple, because I don’t look at him that way. Just as a friend. She looked at me as if I’d grown a third eye, which I had shrugged off. Yeah, Ayden is hot. That’s a huge obvious given. And he’s the best friend I could ever ask for. But I haven’t felt the butterflies around him or the desire to kiss him. I haven’t felt that with anyone yet. Maybe it’s because I set the bar too high, but I’m contemplating lowering it tonight.
“So what.” I sigh when Ayden finally adjusts his shirt back over his stomach. “Blow off movie night and come after practice is over. Sage and Nolan will probably be there anyway.”
He pauses. “Where is it at?”
“Up at Maggie’s house.” I grip the doorknob, feeling upbeat at the idea that he might go. “Are you seriously considering going?”
He stands up and winds around his bed and over to me. “Yeah, maybe. If Sage and Nolan go there, I might catch a ride with them.”
“Good.” I have to stand up on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He flinches, like he always does whenever I touch him, but at least he allows me to. With almost anyone else, he freaks out. The only exception to this being Fiona, and sometimes Lila. “You need to do more fun things in your life, shy boy.”
“No, I don’t,” he says in all seriousness. “I’m just going to keep an eye on you.”
I ruffle his hair. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yeah, you kind of do, and I have an endless list of reasons why. You think too much with your heart, Lyric, and not with your head.”
“All right, I’ll give you that.” Shooting him one last conniving grin, I open the door and strut out of his room, calling over my shoulder, “See you tonight, babysitter.”
I halt as I step over the threshold, realizing I still have the papers in my hand. “Oh, wait. There was actually a real reason why I came over here.”
“You mean other than make another declaration of love,” he jokes as I spin around.
“Yes, my friend.” Sucking in a huge breath, I hand the papers over. “I found something out about you on the internet.”
“About me?” The papers crinkle as he unrolls them.
“Yeah.” I release a deafening breath, worried how this is going to go, but there was no way I could keep something like this from him. “It’s about your tattoo.”
He glances up from the papers, his grey eyes filled with terror. “I don’t understand.”
I move around to stand beside to him. “Well, I was typing in random things that I thought might help us figure out stuff about your brother and sister. Then I started typing in homemade tattoos just to see what came up. After scrolling through an assload of images, I found this.” I tap my finger against the paper. “I guess it’s a pretty common thing to do—put tattoos on yourself. But the one you have belongs to some crazy group of people who believe the tattoo represents some kind of soul cleansing thing. I don’t know. It sounds weird to me, but that’s what all the articles say. And I guess they’ve done a lot of bad stuff, too.”