Lola sighs. “They have reason to believe what they do. I was a stupid kid.”
I frown, not liking the way she sees herself. How her judgment is still clouded by the way others view her. They have no idea. “You were a teenager,” I say.
“I did stupid shit.” Another shrug. “I broke rules, acted out, and I have to live with the consequences.”
I touch my nose to hers and narrow my eyes. “Oh yeah? What did you do that was so bad?”
Her brown eyes flash stubborn. “Got arrested.”
I hide my smile. “For skinny dipping at Lovers Ridge. Hardly the crime of the century. Next.”
“Flunked two of my classes.”
“And caught up with extra credit,” I counter, knowing she’d worked her pretty little butt off every day after school with Mase to get those grades.
At some point her hands made their way up onto my chest and she tightens her grip around my shirt, like she’s anchoring me in case what she says next makes me pull away. Another shadow darkens her gaze. “Got stupid drunk at parties and let myself get raped.”
I swear to god I almost fucking growl. My hold on her waist spasms and I hiss through clenched teeth. “You were drugged,” I remind her, my words stone hard. “And that was not your fault.”
If it was anybody’s fault other than the bastard who dared put his hand on Lola, it was mine. I’m the reason she got so upset.
I wanted to keep her with me that night. I wanted to stay sitting by the fire with Lola in my lap and let her kiss me as much as she fucking wanted. I wantedher. But she was off limits in so many ways. So, I let her go.
It was the right decision. I know that. She was barely eighteen with dreams to travel the world, I wasn’t going to lether give that up over a teenage crush. But there’s always been a part of me that thought, if I’d have just said yes, if I’d have just held onto her, she never would have gotten hurt.
Finding her in the early hours of the morning, lying in that barn, barely conscious, will forever haunt me.
I almost moved back to London after that night, too ashamed to be around the Fords when the whole thing felt like my fault. But then Lola said she didn’t remember anything, and I took the coward’s way out. I stayed, telling myself I was doing it to make sure she was safe.
I failed her that night and I will never forgive myself, but I’ll be damned if I let her keep blaming herself.
Lola’s hand runs from my shirt up to my face and she cups my cheek. “You know it wasn’t your fault either, right?”
Her touch is silken heaven.
I hum a sound of discontent, halfway between agreement and fuck no, but please keep touching me.
Lola leans in and trails her lips across my jaw line. “You did nothing wrong. I’m the irresponsible one, remember?”
I grunt and my hand darts up, circling her neck. Partly to shut up the crap she’s talking and partly because if she keeps flicking her tongue over my earlobe I’m going to come in my trousers. “Thought we already covered that wasn’t your fault.”
A shadow darkens her gaze, the weight of it heavy between us. “What if I did something else? Something worse.”
My eyes trace the contours of her face. “Did you?”
Her throat presses against my palm as she swallows but she drops her gaze. Whatever’s on her mind, she’s not going to say it.
I press my thumb under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “You were a teenager. Everyone does stupid shit as a teenager.”
Lola leans into my palm, her eyes sparking. “And if I’m still stupid? I wasn’t exactly sensible when I traveled. I let a guy tattoo me in a bar.”
The thought of some other guy touching Lola has my grip on her throat tightening. “Where?” I grunt out.
She lowers my hand from her neck and sits back on her heels. Then she pulls her dress over her head and lies back on my bed.
The sight of her spread out before me in nothing but her knickers is almost enough to do me in but then she trails the tip of her finger over fine black writing on the underside of her breast.
My brain short circuits. I climb onto the bed and hover over her waist. The wordsfuck it, do it scaredare inked onto her soft cream skin. It’s a very Lola tattoo to get, in a very Lola place, and I find myself furious. Not because I don’t like it, the tattoo is sexy as fuck, but because the punk that did this would have seen her with her top off. Would have touched her tit.
