His eyes sweep over my body.
He looks proud of himself.
He should be.I’m a complete mess.Still trembling.Still trying to remember how to breathe.
Chapter 20
Sam
Lola’shousehitsmethe second I walk in.Cinnamon candles, perfume and popcorn grease, the scent that clings to your clothes for days.It smells like chaos wrapped in glitter.So basically it smells like Lola.
Liz’s laugh echoes through the hallway before I even see her.There she is—sprawled across the couch in fuzzy socks, legs tucked under her.Her nails are painted gold and glittery enough to blind someone if she waves too hard.Which she does.
“Finally,” she says, grinning.“Took you long enough.”
I force a smile.Not because I’m not happy to see her—I am.I’m still carrying too much memory of Reece after what he did to me to function like a normal human being right now.
I take off my shoes and set my bag by the door.
“I was helping Mom with dinner,” I lie smoothly, as if I haven’t been eaten alive in a school bathroom by the most dangerous boy I’ve ever met only three hours ago.
Liz clocks me halfway across the room and chucks a throw pillow at Lola, who’s halfway through arguing with her.
The smoke alarm blares overhead.
“Oh my god Lola,” Liz says, covering her ears.
Lola bolts for the oven in full chaos mode, yanks the door open, and pulls out a tray of cookies with a smoke-trailed behind.
“They’re not burned,” she yells over the alarm, waving a bright pink oven mitt in the air like its Exhibit A in a high-stakes court case.“The smoke alarm is being overdramatic.Look at them.”
She marches into the living room, holding the tray out as if she’s presenting fine art, completely unfazed by the piercing alarm still wailing in the background.The cookies are suspiciously browned and still sizzling.
“Look,” she says, eyes wide.“Crispy on the edges.That’s flavor.”
Right then, the front door swings open and Aubrey steps in, a paper bag of snacks cradled in one arm with her brows furrowed.
“What the hell is happening here?”she asks, eyeing the smoke.
Lola lifts the tray higher.“Cookies.”
“You’re just in time,” Liz adds, as she props her feet on the coffee table, with a fuzzy sock now dangling from her toes.
“For what?”Aubrey shouts as Lola, still in the middle of kitchen mayhem, grabs a broom and climbs up onto a stool.A second later, the smoke alarm shrieks even louder.
“Lola said blindfolded karaoke is happening,” Liz yells.
We all turn instinctively toward the kitchen.
Lola stands barefoot on a stool, holding a broom as if fencing with the ceiling.The tray of burnt cookies now lies abandoned on the bench.She pokes at the fire alarm, muttering something about “drama queen electronics.”
One last jab, and the alarm finally falls silent.
Lola lowers the broom, steps off the stool with a victorious shrug, and walks back into the room as if nothing happened.
“You’re welcome.”
“Wait,” Aubrey says, pointing between Liz and Lola as if they’ve both gone crazy.“Back it up.Blindfolded karaoke… how is that even possible?”
