Page 41 of Whatever Lola Wants (Odyssey #2)

He whirled back, anger blazing in his eyes for a moment before it cooled to a remote blankness. “ Lola . Sit down.”

Did he think that cool, impersonal tone was supposed to intimidate her? “ I’m fine right here, thank you.”

If anything, his gaze got colder. Blanker . Less Simon , more Big Dick Hastings .

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Thank you.”

If he heard the sarcasm, he didn’t show it. “ And I’m sorry we never had a conversation about expectations.”

That makes two of us.

“But Lola , it can’t be a surprise to you that I want a submissive. I’m a Dom . That’s not something I can change, any more than you can magically stop being a switch.”

“You’re right,” she acknowledged. “ I can’t. But explain something to me. We play together well. We have fun outside of the playroom. We’re as compatible as we could possibly be in bed. We laugh. So , tell me—what do you need that I’m not giving you?”

Simon stared at Lola , guilt gnawing at him with dull, angry teeth.

She was so still, so quiet. Her face was free of makeup and she wore no jewelry, and in the torn jeans and faded sweatshirt she looked impossibly young, unbearably vulnerable.

Her eyes were clear and steady, but he could see the hurt lurking there, behind the shield she was working so hard to maintain.

He’d fucked this up. Dammit , he’d known better, but he’d ignored his better instincts, and now she was hurt. Because of him.

The only thing to do now was make the break as clean as possible.

“Lola, I need a submissive. I want a partner who wants to give me that control, who needs me to have control. Who needs me. You don’t need me.”

She nodded, her gaze focusing on the ceiling for a moment before lowering it to meet his once again. “ If that’s what you need to make you happy, then you’re right. I’m not it. And you should go find what you need, Simon . You don’t have to apologize for that.”

Swamped with regret, he opened his mouth to speak.

She held up a hand. “ But you’re wrong when you say I don’t need you.

It’s true I don’t need you like a submissive needs a Dom .

I don’t need you to give me a list of daily tasks, or to tell me how to wear my hair.

I don’t need you to set rules, or hand out punishments when I forget to change the bed linens on the right day. ”

She shut her eyes for a moment, the struggle on her face making him ache. When she opened them again, they were carefully blank. “ All of that sounded really bitchy and judgmental, and I don’t mean it to. There’s nothing wrong with needing those things.”

Her eyes turned fierce. “ But while I might not need you for that, I needed you for other things. I needed you to take care of me when I was hurt. I needed you to hold me when I had nightmares after the accident. I needed you to laugh with, to make love with, to go to sleep with and wake up with. I needed you to tell me I was an idiot for forgetting to eat before our first scene at the club, and I needed you to help me make it right. I needed you to take me to the ball game and buy me a hot dog.”

She drew a shaky breath, and her hands were trembling. “ But that’s not what you want. So , you should go, find the submissive you need. You deserve to have the life you want.”

“Lola…”

She shook her head. “ And we’ll go back to being friends. I’m sure we’ll see each other at Anna and Grant’s house, or at the club.”

There was a horrible weight on his chest, making it hard to breathe. “ I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. I’d say it’s okay, except it’s really not. But I do understand.”

Her gaze flicked away, then met his gaze again. “ I don’t really feel like going out tonight. You should go on to the club without me.”

He nodded stiffly, feeling like he should say something.

Anything . But nothing came to mind. He could only stand numbly as she crossed to the door and opened it.

Could only walk past her, struggling to find a way to make this right.

To erase the hurt from her eyes, and the hollow feeling in his own belly.

There was nothing.

He walked out the door, then turned back. She looked so small, in her ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirt. He wanted to scoop her up and hold her until the pain in her eyes went away.

But that wasn’t his job anymore.

“Lola.”

He watched her eyes fill with tears, saw her battle them back. “ Goodbye , Simon ,” she said and quietly, firmly, closed the door.

And there was nothing left for him to do but walk away.

* * *

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

The question, asked and answered at least a dozen times since Anna had arrived on her doorstep at nine o’clock on Sunday morning, almost made Lola laugh.

Almost.

“Anna.” Lola set down the cinnamon bun she didn’t want and curled up in the corner of the sofa. “ I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“Okay, I’m not fine. I’m sad and I’m hurt and I’m depressed, all of which is completely normal considering I just broke up with someone I cared about.”

Anna’s face crumpled in sympathy. “ Honey .”

“But I will be fine. It might take a while, but eventually, I will be fine.”

“I hate that fucker,” Anna growled. “ I wish he wasn’t Grant’s best man. I can’t believe he treated you like this, and next week I have to have him standing up there when I get married.” Her eyes widened. “ Oh , shit. I didn’t even think about the wedding. What? —"

“It’s fine, honey.”

“But you’ll have to see him. Walk down the aisle with him.”

The stricken expression on Anna’s face had Lola reaching out a reassuring hand. “ I’m a big girl, Anna . I’ll be okay.”

“I hate that fucker,” Anna said again and Lola sighed.

“No, you don’t.”

“I might hate him,” Ginger put in, coming in from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and three glasses. “ I’m happy I stun gunned him in the middle of a blow job. I wish I’d zapped his balls.”

Lola held out her hand for a glass of wine, sipping gratefully. Her head felt muzzy, her throat raw, the result of crying off and on for most of the night. The cool Chablis was a soothing balm on so many aches.

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Ginger clinked her glass to Lola’s . “ Anytime . I’ve still got the stun gun, you know.”

Anna stopped pacing. “ Can I borrow it? Maybe I can tag him during the wedding reception.”

“Anna,” Lola chided.

“What?”

Lola laid her head back against the couch. “ It’s not Simon’s fault.”

“Are you kidding me?” Anna all but shouted. “ Of course it’s his fault. You didn’t?—"

“It’s his fault he lied to me,” Lola said tiredly. “ But it’s not his fault I wasn’t what he needs. That’s nobody’s fault. It just…is.”

Anna huffed out a breath and dropped into a chair. “ You’re making it hard to be on your side here.”

“Sorry,” Lola murmured, a small smile curving her lips. “ I appreciate that you hate him on my behalf.”

“He broke you heart,” Anna said.

“Yeah,” Lola said quietly, feeling the pain well up all over again. “ He did.”

Anna’s eyes filled with sympathetic tears. “ I just don’t understand it. He was happy with you. We could all see it. So why does he think someone else will make him happier?”

Lola rubbed her gritty eyes. “ I don’t know. But it’s his call to make.”

Ginger unfolded herself from her chair. “ I’m going to get you something for your eyes.”

Anna watched her go, then turned back to Lola . “ I wish you weren’t hurting, honey.”

“I wish I wasn’t either,” Lola said quietly.

“Are you in love with him?”

The quiet question did what all of Anna’s shouting and storming couldn’t; it broke her.

“Oh,” Anna gasped when the tears spilled over. “ Oh , honey. Don’t .”

Lola just shook her head. Now that the dam had broken, she couldn’t make it stop.

Ginger came running in, the washcloth in her hand dripping onto the rug. “ What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Anna sat on the couch next to Lola , stroking her back, her arm, her head. “ I just asked her if she was in love with him.”

“Well, I’d say that’s a yes.” Ginger dropped the washcloth onto a plate before sitting on the floor in front of the sofa and adding her hands to Anna’s .

Lola lifted her face from the pillow. “ I just can’t seem to stop crying.”

“You don’t have to,” Ginger put in. “ If you need to cry, you cry. If you need to scream, we’ll scream with you. If you want pie and ice cream, I’ll go out and get pie and ice cream.”

Lola gave a watery laugh. “ I don’t need pie and ice cream,” she sniffed, then looked at Ginger . “ What kind of pie?”

They had cherry pie with chocolate and peanut butter ice cream, and ate sitting on the floor around the coffee table. Anna said it was a disgusting combination, especially when with the wine factored in, but she ate it anyway.

“Pretty good pie,” Ginger said, scooping up the last bit of filling from her plate.

“It’s okay,” Anna shrugged. “ I make better.”

“Then the next time I get dumped, bake one,” Lola told her.

“You know, I have this theory about relationships.”

Lola glanced at Ginger as she spooned up more ice cream. “ What’s that?”

“That you either get the person you want, or the relationship you want.”

Anna frowned. “ What do you mean?”

“Well, there are always things you compromise on when you decide to be with someone. Like , maybe you really want a guy who’ll go rock climbing with you, but the guy you like is a klutz and hurts himself getting the mail. So , you decide a non-rock-climbing boyfriend is okay.”

Lola nodded. “ Okay , I’m with you.”

“Sometimes the things you compromise on are about the person. He doesn’t rock climb, or he’s overly attached to his mother, or he leaves whiskers in the sink when he shaves.”

“I hate that one,” Anna grumbled. “ Grant sucks at that.”

“Case in point,” Ginger said. “ Sometimes it’s something little, like the whiskers?—”

“Have you seen my man’s beard?” Anna demanded. “ That’s no little thing.”

Lola snorted into her ice cream as Ginger went on.