I’ve never met anyone as passionate about the things they love as Lola is and I decide I could listen to her tell me weird facts about coffee for days.
We keep moving boxes as we talk, pushing everything to the very edge of the room in an attempt to make the rest of the space habitable. Eventually the bed is clear aside from the iron headboard lying flat on the mattress. We stand on either side of the bed and each grab one end. “So why now?” I ask as we slot the headboard into place. The metal feet clunk against the worn wooden floor.
Lola shrugs and turns her back on me. “I got scared and I wanted to come home.”
The little hairs on my arms prick and I narrow my gaze as she picks up a box from the floor and rounds the bed.
I reach out, stopping her with a hand on her bicep. She has a bracelet clasped just above her elbow and my little finger traces the gold band.
Lola goes still.
“Scared of what?”
One of the purple strands has fallen loose from her ponytail and she glances up at me from behind it, a teasing smile on her lips. “You going to offer to beat up the sea for me, Roman?”
I remember doing just that when we were younger but I’m not about to let her distract me so easily. “Scared. Of. What. Lola?”
She chews on her lip, her gaze dropping to the scuffed-up floorboards. She pulls away from my hold and puts the box down. “Some guy attacked me.”
My chest heaves and she holds up her hands. “I’m fine. It was fine. My friend pulled him off before he could do anything.” Her shoulders drop. “Honestly that was the scariest part, Scott went ape shit on the guy, I thought he was going to kill him.”
“He would have deserved it,” I bite out through gritted teeth.
Her hands settle on my shirt, and I realize I’m shaking. “I’m okay, Roman. I’m really okay.”
The pulse in her neck flutters. I draw my gaze away from her soft skin and pull her into my arms. “God, Lola.” Forget beating up the ocean, I want to beat up the whole world for the things it’s done to Lola. The trauma it’s put her through. But Lola’s a fighter and I hold on to that like I’m holding on to her.
Mase and I were prepared for her to break after what happened on her eighteenth and maybe she did, in her own way, but Lola packed her bags and took the world by storm.
I bring my hand to the nape of her neck and for a moment we just exist together, the echo of her heart beating against my chest.
When she pulls back, her fingers curl a little around my checked shirt. I don’t move my hand. My thumb brushes over the baby hairs at the back of her neck and she shudders.
The weight of what could be hangs in the room until Lola’s phone pings. She jerks away from me, and I screw my hand up into a fist, scolding myself for even daring to want what I can’t have.
Lola checks her phone. “It’s Scott.”
I squeeze my fist harder. “Scott, the guy you were traveling with?”
Lola nods and I bite my tongue hard enough to taste iron. I don’t like the idea of her out there with some other guy but if he hadn’t been there, Lola could have been hurt all over again.
I breathe through my nose and tell myself that she’s okay. That she’s home now andScottis still halfway across the world.
Lola looks up at me. Tucks a purple strand behind her ear. She glances around the room. “Well, thanks again for your help. I, uh, officially relieve you of your heavy lifting duties.”
The space still looks more like a fly tipping spot than an apartment but the bed’s clear and I don’t have any more excuses to stay. “Make sure you lock up after me.”
Lola grabs the keys off the side and spins them around her finger. “I’ll even blockade the door.”
I chuckle under my breath, forcing myself to go down the stairs and leave the shop before my body convinces my mind to never leave Lola’s side.
I go through the list of why we can’t be together in my head, like I do every time we say goodbye.She’s too young for you. She’s your best friend’s little sister.You’re the reason she got hurt.
I climb into my pickup, my limbs moving on autopilot as I try not to think about how I’m not sure any of those reasons are enough to hold me back.
Not when she’sright here.
Not when I can still feel her nails scraping my chest.
