Free Dangerous Hearts: Rock Star Romance, 1 (Lyric & Wolf) by Mia McAdams Page B

it’s
necessary.”
    She lets out a rush of air , and I think I’ve finally succeeded in impressing
her. At least for a moment. “You really are a rock star, aren’t you?” She
smirks into her menu. It’s infectious. I smile , too.
    A moment later , we’re ordering a bottle of wine and appetizers and talking about the tour.
Somehow we got onto the subject of the crew.
There are more than two dozen people on our tour , and she knows every single one of their names and job descriptions. I don’t
think she studies this shit. I get the distinct feeling that she simply has a
superb ability to listen and retain information.
    After ordering our food , there’s a pause , so I jump in with a question I’ve been wondering since we left San Diego. “You
still writing lyrics, Lyric?”
    “Don’t do that . ” S he cringes. “Follow my name with its meaning.
It devalues me.”
    “How so?”
    “Your name is Wolf. Does that mean you
love wolves? It’s an expectation that wouldn’t exist if we were named something
else. It just so happens I love music and write songs. My name has nothing to
do with that. However, since my name is Lyric, it’s implied that I should love
music , I should write lyrics.”
    “Names can tell a lot about a person.
I’ll have you know, wolves have a sharp intelligence and strong instincts.”
    She smirks. “Wolves also symbolize fear
of being threatened and lack of trust.” She cocks her head. “Maybe you’re
right. Names do tell us a lot about a person.”
    Interesting . So, she’s been looking up the meaning
of my name. I’m certain she didn’t come up with that on the spot. My eyes
wander across her face, down the base of her throat, and to the rise and fall
of her chest before returning to her lips. Those are kissable lips. I shake my
head, biting back another laugh as I clear my thoughts. “I see you’ve put a lot
of thought into this. How about you just answer the question?”
    “I am always writing lyrics.” She says it quietly, confessing . “Since I was a little
girl. I never kept a journal. I wrote poetry and lyrics.”
    “Do you have any musical talents besides
writing?”
    She freezes. I catch the moment of fear
that splotches her chest, and then she breathes through it as if it were nothing. “It couldn’t be avoided when I was
younger. Usually when parents shove something down a kid’s throat, the kid
rebels. Not me. I learned piano first and then guitar, and I loved every second
of it. But I haven’t played in a while.”
    “You really are a marvel, aren’t you?”
    Lyric makes a face. “Not quite. D isappointment is a better word for it.”
    I want to lean over the table , take her face in my hands, stare deeply into her
sage - colored eyes, and tell her she’s crazy.
Instead of scaring her, I remain in my seat , but I decide to
let her know what I’m thinking. “You, Lyric, are the furthest thing from
disappointment. Whoever helped you reach that conclusion is the problem, not
you.”
    She takes a sip of her wine, not tearing
her gaze from mine. “My parents had expectations. I couldn’t fulfill them.”
    “Couldn’t — or
didn’t want to?”
    “Does it matter? Perception is
everything.” Her eyes gut me. They’re terrifying and beautiful and honest. I’m
not sure if Lyric could hide an emotion if she tried. Not with such transparent
armor.
    “There’s a difference. You could have
fulfilled their expectations, but maybe you realized you’d rather fulfill yours.”
    Her cheeks turn a rosy pink. “That’s what
I’m doing. At least I think that’s what I’m doing. I don’t really know. It’s
nice being around the music 24-7, but I’m not sure what’s in my future.”
    “Don’t worry about that. You’re doing
what you love now ; the rest will fall in to place.”
    She seems to be taking this in , and I just watch her, wondering how on earth her
douche of an ex could have trade d her in for someone else. Whoever it was must have had