Chapter 15 - Lola #2
Lola hiccupped slightly through a laugh, fresh tears welling in her eyes, “I’m afraid that if I did actually try and bake you muffins, we really wouldn’t be friends. You’d probably have me arrested for attempted poisoning.”
“Not a chance,” Cassie said, “they can’t be worse than mine. Pack rules say you gotta bring what you bake, no matter how terrible.”
Lola sniffed, her throat tightening, a fresh wave of tears threatening to fall, “But I’m not…I’m not in the pack.”
“Could’ve fooled us,” Cassie said.
Daisy nodded, “You belong with us, Lola. Everyone knows it. The title doesn’t matter. You’re family.”
Lola looked between them, heart full and aching. She didn’t trust her voice, so she just nodded.
“Come on,” Daisy said, gently patting her knee, “why don’t you go and wash your face, and we can all have a nice cup of tea?”
Lola nodded, standing on trembling feet, offering them a watery smile.
They smiled back, genuine and so full of warmth.
She exhaled and turned, walking slowly toward the front desk, her heels clicking faintly against the wooden floor.
She tried to pretend she wasn’t listening, tried not to do what she’d been trained from childhood to do as a shifter: pay attention to what others didn’t want you to hear.
But it was impossible to tune them out.
Even from halfway across the room, she heard them.
Cassie’s voice first, loud enough to make Lola wince, “God, she’s heartbroken. You can see it. She’s holding herself together with sheer spite.”
“Cassie,” Daisy hissed, “shifters, remember? She can probably hear you.”
“She’s halfway across the room!”
“Exactly. That’s well within range.”
There was a pause. Then, in a slightly lower voice, albeit not by much, Cassie continued, “Still. She deserves better. Dane’s being a complete idiot. He had something good, something real, and he pushed it away because he’s emotionally constipated and probably afraid of his own feelings.”
“Cass—” Daisy tried again, but Cassie just kept going.
“Don’t get me wrong. I like the guy. But this whole tough-enforcer-who-can’t-love-anyone schtick? It’s tired. He’s not fooling anyone. You saw the way he used to look at her, all soft and helpless, like she was the last person in the world he wanted to hurt.”
Daisy’s voice was more careful now. “I know. And I agree. But maybe don’t narrate the entire emotional drama at full volume in a library.”
Cassie snorted. “She’s got a super-powered nose and ears. If I whisper, she’ll just smell the guilt on me instead.”
Daisy groaned, “You’re impossible.”
“Look, I’m just saying, he needs a kick in the ass. Or a therapist. Or possibly both.” Another pause, then Cassie added more gently, “I don’t like seeing her like this. She’s trying to pretend she doesn’t care, but you know she does. It’s killing her.”
Lola froze.
She’d only meant to grab a tissue. Maybe splash some cold water on her face in the little back-office bathroom. Instead, she was standing just behind a shelf of returned books, heart pounding, throat tight, and completely exposed.
Because Cassie wasn’t wrong.
It was killing her.
She pressed a hand to her chest, willing the ache to subside.
Daisy’s voice, quieter now, “I know. I hate it too. But Lola’s strong. If she decides she’s done, she’ll mean it. And he’ll regret it.”
“He should regret it already,” Cassie muttered, “how long do you think it’ll take him to realize what he lost?”
“Too long,” Daisy said sadly.
The words hit harder than they should have.
Because it’s true.
Lola had been trying so hard not to hope. Not to imagine that Dane would show up at her door and say the things she so badly wanted to hear. That he’d finally put the fear aside and admit what was obvious to everyone but him.
She took a deep breath and smoothed down the front of her cardigan.
Cassie’s voice drifted back one last time, lighter now, “He’s going to show up at the club one of these days looking like someone just totaled his motorbike, and I’m going to say ‘I told you so’ before I even ask if he wants a drink.”
“You’ll say it while handing him one,” Daisy replied.
“Naturally.”
Lola stepped around the corner as casually as she could manage, trying not to look like she’d just been standing in the nonfiction section eavesdropping on her own emotional obituary.
Cassie and Daisy immediately turned toward her, eyes wide with guilt.
“You okay?” Daisy asked quickly, rising from the couch.
Lola forced a polite smile. “Yes. Just needed a moment.”
Cassie held out a cup of tea like a peace offering, “Still warm. Chamomile and honey.”
Lola took the tea, settled back into the chair, and folded the tissue carefully in her lap. She wasn’t sure what to say. The words were sitting just behind her teeth, sharp and clumsy and painful.
So instead, she just said softly, “Thanks for coming today.”
Daisy’s eyes softened. “Of course.”
“We’re always here,” Cassie said, “and not just with hot drinks.”
“Though there will usually be hot drinks,” Daisy added. “It’s sort of our love language.”
They sat together for a while in easy silence. The weight in Lola’s chest hadn’t gone away, but it had shifted. Become something a little lighter. A little more bearable.
Eventually, when the tea was drunk and Cassie was well into her second mug of coffee, Daisy leaned over and tapped her on the arm. “You’re still coming to ladies’ night, right?”
Lola hesitated. “Isn’t that a pack-only thing?”
“You’re with us,” Cassie said, without missing a beat, “pack or not. You belong. End of story.”
And somehow, despite everything, Lola believed her.
Even if Dane never came around.
Even if her heart still ached every time he looked right through her.
She still had this. These women. This messy, complicated new life.
She wasn’t alone.