Chapter 15 - Lola
The library was silent except for the soft ruffle of turning pages and the gentle tick tick tick of the old wall clock that had probably been wrong for years.
Lola sat cross-legged behind the main desk, surrounded by three precarious stacks of books, her laptop balanced on one knee. Her thesis file was open, the blinking cursor mocking her on an otherwise blank page.
She stared at it, willing her brain to cooperate.
It didn’t.
Instead, all she could think about was the sound of Dane’s voice when he’d told her he couldn’t be with her. The quiet regret. The way he wouldn’t look her in the eye. The fact that he’d barely spoken more than five words to her since.
She sniffed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Focus. Bibliography formatting. Use your brain. Don’t think about the way he held you. Don’t think about the way it felt to fall asleep in his arms like you belonged there.
The little bell over the door jingled.
She looked up. The cool midday light spilled across the entrance, silhouetting two familiar figures.
Daisy was waving before the door even closed, wearing a sunflower-yellow dress and holding several paper cups full of steaming liquid.
Cassie followed, sunglasses perched on top of her head, her hair pulled into a braid, the mud on her jeans suggesting she’d been wrestling with her twins in the woods again.
Lola blinked. “Hi?”
“Hi!” Daisy said, already beaming. “We brought tea!”
“You...brought tea?”
“And coffee,” Cassie added, lifting her carrier tray. “I can only stand tea for so long before the promise of caffeine lures me in. This stuff is like petrol, according to Felix.”
“Who’s it for?” Lola asked warily.
Cassie raised her brows. “You, if you’re brave. Or me, if you go for the tea instead.”
Lola stood slowly, brushing her skirt down. “Not that I’m not grateful, but what are you two doing here?”
“We were in the area,” Daisy said.
“Uh-huh.”
“And we were thinking about you,” Cassie added. “Just wanted to check in. You know. See how you’re holding up.”
Lola crossed her arms, instantly retreating into the posture she’d perfected over years of awkwardness—prim, proud, untouchable. “I’m fine.”
“Of course you are,” Cassie said gently, “that’s why you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
Daisy stepped around the desk and set the tea down like she was delivering something fragile. Her eyes were full of sympathy, but not the cloying kind. The honest kind. The kind that cracked something in Lola’s chest.
“I heard from Ethel that you’ve been doing extra shifts here,” Daisy said softly, “we just wanted to make sure you’re not burying yourself.”
“Work is productive,” Lola said, clearing her throat, “it’s...useful. Unlike crying into one’s pillow or…or waiting for someone who doesn’t want you to change their mind.”
Cassie winced, “Okay. That’s fair. But—”
“I’m not waiting for him,” Lola added quickly. Too quickly, “I have my work. I have Sam. I’ve been fine without a mate for this long. I don’t need one now.”
Neither of them said anything.
Lola shifted her weight. “You don’t have to say anything, really. I know what I am. I’m not some stunning warrior female or pack royalty. I’m just a researcher. A scholar. I should’ve known better than to think someone like Dane—”
Her voice broke.
Daisy reached out instinctively, but Lola turned her head away. Her eyes burned.
“I didn’t mean to care this much,” she whispered, voice cracking.
And then, like a dam bursting, she was crying. Quietly, fiercely. Hiding her face in her hands like it might somehow save her from the humiliation of it.
Cassie was beside her in a second, looping her arm around her shoulders.
“Oh, Lola,” she said, “it’s okay. Let it out.”
“I’m sorry,” Lola muttered, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I wasn’t expecting to cry on a Monday. I had very different plans.”
“Tears are pretty standard for a Monday,” Cassie said, steering her toward one of the cushioned reading chairs like she did this kind of thing often, despite the slightly panicked look Lola caught her sending Daisy.
Daisy cleared her throat and took over, guiding her into the chair, arranging the cushions around her like she was some sort of baby.
It just made Lola cry harder.
Daisy handed her a tissue and sat on the armrest beside her. “You don’t have to apologize. Ever. Especially not for caring about someone.”
Lola exhaled shakily and looked down at her lap. Her knuckles were pale from clutching the balled-up tissue. “I don’t know why I thought…”
Cassie leaned in, brows up, “Why did you think what?”
“That I mattered to him.”
Neither of the other women said anything immediately.
Lola’s throat closed in anticipation. They were going to think she was so stupid.
She was so stupid. Stupid to think she ever meant anything to Dane at all.
They were probably trying to come up with ways to tactfully say it to her.
Break the news that she’d been a fool from day one.
But then Daisy, ever gentle, offered quietly, “You do matter to him.”
“He made it very clear that he can’t be with me,” Lola said, “and the thing is, I get it. I do. There’s a war brewing.
He’s under pressure. He’s never been in a relationship; he’s terrified of messing it up.
I’ve read between the lines. But knowing all of that doesn’t make it hurt less.
I let myself fall for him, and now I feel like… like an idiot.”
Cassie scoffed, “Oh, no. No way. No female on earth should feel like an idiot over Dane for God’s sake. He’s the idiot. A loveable one, sure, but an idiot anyway.”
“She’s right,” Daisy agreed, with a slight edge to her voice, “though not about him being an idiot.” Cassie shrugged unapologetically, and Daisy continued, “She’s right about you not being one. Opening yourself up doesn’t make you stupid, Lola. It’s one of the bravest things you can do.”
Lola stared at them, her voice small. “It doesn’t feel brave.”
“It never does at the time,” Cassie said, “but trust me, it is. Loving someone like Dane isn’t easy. He’s loyal to a fault and stubborn as hell. He thinks he has to carry the world alone, and if he drops even one piece, he’s failed.”
“Sounds familiar,” Lola muttered.
Cassie smiled. “Exactly. You two are kind of alike in that way. Only you’re way smarter.”
That coaxed a watery laugh out of Lola.
Daisy reached down and brushed a bit of hair from Lola’s cheek.
“When Nicolas and I first got together, I thought he didn’t feel anything.
He was always so quiet and closed off. But the truth was, he felt too much and didn’t know how to let it out.
I had to be patient with him. Give him space and still hold him accountable for hurting me. And now…well, now things are great.”
“It’s true,” Cassie said with a grin, “they’re kind of obnoxious about it, to be honest. Nicolas pretends to be all cool and aloof, but he’s absolutely whipped.”
Lola smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“I just wish I didn’t still want him. It would be so much easier to get over him if I didn’t still…
” she stopped, eyes filling again. “He was the first person who made me feel like I belonged here. Not just with Sam, but…me. The real me. The awkward, fumbling version who doesn’t know when to shut up or how to flirt properly or when she’s being too intense about nineteenth-century correspondence journals. ”
“For what it’s worth,” Cassie said, “I don’t think this was casual for him. I’ve never seen him… care about a female he’s involved with like he cares about you.”
“It’s true,” Daisy added, “and I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“But he walked away.”
“Because he’s scared,” Daisy said gently, “not because you aren’t worth staying for.”
Cassie leaned back. “Let me put it this way. When Felix and I first got together, I tried to pretend it was nothing. No feelings, no future, just fun. Then one day, I realized I was lying to myself, and he was quietly rearranging his whole damn life around me while pretending not to care. Sometimes, the big tough males are the most emotionally constipated creatures alive. And Felix is considered quite advanced in that regard.”
“You think Dane’s just…blocked?”
“Completely,” Cassie said, “like emotionally jammed. He’s scared to love someone the way he knows you deserve. But I think he already does. He’s just not ready to admit it. To himself or to you.”
Lola shook her head, “That’s the problem, though. I do know I deserve more than this. But I also know I’ve never wanted anything…anyone…more. It’s humiliating.”
Daisy squeezed her hand. “It’s human. Or…shifter. Whatever. You let yourself hope, and hope is never a bad thing.”
Cassie grinned, “Even if it makes you cry into endless cups of tea.”
Lola looked at the table, where the steaming cups sat, and wiped her nose. “Chamomile?”
“With honey,” Daisy said brightly.
“Oh. That changes everything.”
They all laughed, and the tightness in Lola’s chest loosened just slightly.
Cassie nudged her with her foot. “So listen, there’s a ladies’ night at the club tonight. You should come.”
Lola blinked. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re not a recluse. And it’s fun. There’ll be drinks and karaoke and pack gossip. Also, we need plenty of snacks, and those blueberry muffins you make are amazing.”
Despite herself, Lola choked on a laugh, “About that…those muffins are store-bought.”
“What?” Cassie cried, her face falling, “You…you sneaky little liar!”
Lola laughed then, properly, “I’m sorry! I just wanted you all to like me!”
“Nope,” Cassie said with a grin, looping one arm around her shoulders as she spoke, “sorry, that’s it. Friendship over.”
“Come on, Cass, they’re just muffins. I’ll bake you some if that means so much to you!” Daisy smiled.
Cassie sniffed theatrically. “I’ll have you know I take muffins very seriously. No second chances.”