Page 26 of Whatever Lola Wants (Odyssey #2)

H e drove her home, poured another bottle of water into her, and helped her shower. He evaded her attempts to do something about his erection while he washed her hair, threatening her with a bare-assed paddling if she didn’t keep her hands to herself.

Honestly. If it hadn’t been so obvious that he wanted her, a girl could get a complex.

He scrubbed her down almost impersonally, rinsed her off, then gently smoothed moisturizer into her skin before wrapping her up in a robe. Then he made her sit on the edge of the counter while he dried her hair, laid a soft, sweet kiss on her tender mouth, and put her to bed.

To sleep, of all things.

Her last thought before she tumbled into sleep was to wonder how many men with a boner that big would’ve made ensuring her comfort a priority.

The next time she opened her eyes, it was morning.

Lola pushed up in bed, the blankets falling away as she blinked at the sunlight streaming into the room.

The bedroom windows faced east, and she’d been so tired last night she hadn’t thought to ask him to pull the curtains.

She had no idea what time it was, but she felt rested, and so relaxed it felt as though her bones were made of Jello .

She frowned, remembering the night before. Simon had brought her home, tucked her into bed. Had he left? A quick look around the room revealed no clues to his presence—no shoes on the floor, no clothes tossed over the chair.

He’d probably gone home after she'd gone to sleep. She shoved aside the twinge of unhappiness and eased out of bed, groaning when the muscles in her thighs protested. She was in good shape, but running on wrestling mats was a workout she wasn’t used to.

Slipping into her fluffy robe, she walked to the kitchen on rubbery legs.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten dinner the night before—which, now that she remembered, was surely the reason she’d given out before the end of the scene.

She winced, knowing she’d have to tell Simon .

Like any good top, he was kicking himself for not noticing that she was nearing her limit before she’d called it, and he would not be happy when he found out why she’d hit the wall so hard.

Intent on filling her empty belly, she pulled open the refrigerator and stared into it as though she could make bacon and waffles appear by sheer force of will.

Since she had no bacon and no desire to make waffle batter, she shut the door and was pulling out her phone to order something when her doorbell rang.

She tapped her phone to bring up her doorbell camera. She didn’t recognize the blonde woman standing in the hall in her bare feet, an uncertain look on her face.

Tucking the phone back in her pocket, she tightened the sash on her robe and opened the door. “ Can I help you?”

The woman blinked bright blue eyes, teeth worrying her full bottom lip. “ Are you Lola ?”

“Yes.” Lola frowned. She knew most people in the building, but she’d never met this woman before.

White and slightly taller than average, she had a curvy figure tucked into worn jeans and a faded cotton t-shirt with the Superman emblem on the chest. Her bare toes were painted a pale pink, her blonde hair was up in a ponytail, and her skin was peaches and cream over classic bone structure. She was almost breathtakingly pretty.

“I’m Ginger . Ginger Dowling ? I’m? —”

“Peter’s cousin,” Lola finished and relaxed her grip on the door handle.

Ginger sagged with obvious relief, her smile widening. “ Oh , good. I was afraid he’d forgotten to tell you about me.”

“No, he told me,” Lola assured her. “ It just slipped my mind, is all. Did you just get here?”

“Last night,” Ginger said with a nod that had her ponytail bouncing. “ I’m sorry to stop by so early.”

“It’s not too early,” Lola assured her. She still didn't know what time it was. “ I was awake and hunting breakfast.”

“Well, I wouldn’t bother you, but it looks like I left my charger back in Ohio and this thing is almost dead.” She waved her cell phone. “ You wouldn’t have one I could borrow?”

“Sure.” Lola stepped back. “ Come on in and I’ll dig one up for you.”

Ginger followed her into the apartment. “ I really appreciate it.”

Lola let the way to the open kitchen. “ It’s no problem. I forget something every time I go somewhere.”

Ginger grimaced. “ I also forgot my birth control pills.”

“That I can’t help you with,” Lola said with a laugh and pulled open the wide drawer under the kitchen counter that served as a junk drawer. She sifted through it, looking for the bright blue cord she’d bought on a trip to New York last fall when she’d forgotten her own charger.

“Here you go,” she said, finally unearthing it under a handful of takeout menus. She held it out. “ Keep it as long as you like.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Ginger took the charger with a grateful smile. “ I’ll buy one in the next day or two and get this back to you.”

Lola waved her off. “ Keep it. I have at least a dozen others.”

“Thanks,” Ginger said. “ I thought big city people were supposed to be rude and mean.”

Lola grinned. “ We take Sundays off.”

Ginger laughed, a musical tinkling of sound. “ Good to know. I’m sure my mother—who is positive I’m going to be assaulted, murdered, sold into sexual slavery and coerced into doing hard drugs in this godforsaken city—will be relieved.”

“A worrier, huh?”

“She bought me a stun gun as a going away present.”

Lola’s eyes widened. “ Um , it’s illegal to carry those in the state of Illinois unless you have a Firearm Owner’s Identification card.”

“Oh, good,” Ginger said with obvious relief. “ Now I have an excuse not to carry it.”

Lola snickered, enjoying Ginger’s easy humor. “ Listen , would you like to get dinner some night this week? I could show you around town a little.”

Ginger’s eyes lit with delight. “ I’d love that.”

“Great. Let me give you my cell number.” Lola began digging around in the drawer for a pen and a piece of paper.

“Here.” Ginger pulled her phone out of her pocket. “ Go ahead. I’ll call it now, and I’ll have your number and you’ll have mine.”

Lola recited her number, and Ginger punched it in. The jangling of her phone echoed from the bedroom down the hall. “ I’ll call you tomorrow to set something up?”

“That’ll be great.” Ginger tucked her phone away. “ Well , I’m going to get back to unpacking. Thanks again for the charger.”

“Anytime.” Lola followed her to the door, holding it open as Ginger padded out into the hall on bare feet. “ I mean that. If you ever need anything, or you just want to hang out, just pop on over.”

“I’ll do that.” She took out her keys to unlock the apartment across the hall.

“Hey, Ginger ?”

Ginger looked up, a question on her face.

“Welcome to Chicago .”

Ginger’s smile lit her face. “ Thanks .”

Lola shut her door. She’d forgotten Peter had mentioned his cousin was going to be house-sitting. Ginger seemed friendly. Sweet . Super cute.

“If I take her to a bar, we’ll definitely get free drinks,” she decided.

That would be fun. Maybe she’d ask Anna to come along as well. The three of them together? Hell , they’d be swimming in free liquor.

Her stomach growled, reminding her she needed food. She had her phone out and was contemplating her takeout options when the front door opened and Simon walked in with his arms full of groceries.

He booted the door closed behind him, his gaze skimming over her. “ I thought you’d still be asleep.”

“I woke up,” she said faintly, pleasure warming her belly. He hadn’t left. “ I thought you’d gone.”

“I had to make a supply run.” He set the bags on the counter. “ You have no food.”

“I know.” The scent of sugar and cinnamon wafted up from the bags, making her stomach growl.

He heard it. “ Hungry ?”

“Starving,” she admitted.

He dug into the first bag. “ You look better.”

“I crashed hard,” she admitted, going up on her toes to see into the bags. “ What did you buy?”

He set a bunch of bananas on the counter. “ Fruit .”

She frowned. “ Fruit ?”

He dug back into the bag. “ And sugar and fat,” he said and set a bakery box in her hands

“Oh, it’s still warm,” she moaned, inhaling the scent of fresh pastries. She pried up the lid of the box, eyes lighting up when she saw the cinnamon rolls.

“You can start on that,” he told her, “while I make the rest.”

She was already digging out a roll, oozing with icing. She looked up. “ There’s more?”

He held up a package. “ Bacon .”

“You’re my hero,” she mumbled around a mouthful of pastry.

“I got eggs, too.” He pointed at the coffeemaker on the counter. “ You’re in charge of coffee.”

“Yes, Sir ,” she mumbled, still chewing. He shot her an odd look, and she laughed. “ Sorry ,” she mumbled, swallowing her food. “ Sorry ,” she repeated. “ It just slipped out.”

He dug out a skillet and set it on her stove, eyes dancing with amusement. “ I never object to being called Sir .”

She rolled her eyes and moved to the coffeemaker. “ You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He reached out and gave the belt of her robe a tug. “ Don’t worry, Lola . I’m not going to mistake you for a submissive in this lifetime.”

She laughed, her mood considerably lightened by the certainty of bacon in her immediate future.

They worked in silence for a moment, the sounds of coffee percolating vying with the sizzling of bacon in the pan. Coffee done, she poured a mug and added a teaspoon of sugar before handing it to him.

He glanced at her curiously. “ How’d you know I add a teaspoon of sugar?”

“Last time you were here in the morning, that’s what you did.”

He smiled and took the mug. “ Thanks .”

He sipped his coffee, flipping bacon and whisking eggs in a bowl before pouring them into a second skillet where butter sizzled. She took her own cup to the other side of the breakfast bar, nibbling on her second cinnamon roll as she watched him cook.

He flicked a glance over his shoulder. “ Grab a couple of plates, will you?”