Chapter 33 Lane #2
She sounds confident, in control. She’s changed, somehow.
She suddenly seems more mature, and I swell with pride and sadness, all at once.
First Kirk, now me: she’s going on a man strike, cutting us out of her life so she can get on with living it.
Just my luck. She’s become the woman I was encouraging her to be, back when I scooped her up off the floor.
I’m happy for her—even if it’s tearing me apart inside.
“Now that I know what I want from life, we need to talk about this.”
She pulls a stack of rolled-up papers from behind her back, and I rip them out of her hand, my heart pounding in my head as I glance through my screenplay.
I put so much of us in this story… This is the moment of truth.
I need to speak up. I have nothing left to lose.
Just as I open my mouth, Lois cuts me off.
“Lane, seriously. I’m sorry, but…”
I stare at her, scared to move.
“That stuff you said on page seventeen? That never happened.”
“What?”
She grabs the script from me and starts flicking through, the pages flying by in a blur of scribbles, dozens of comments scrawled in the margins, between the lines.
“Same thing here!” She jabs a finger at a page. “I never said that!”
She continues working through my script, pointing out mistakes along the way, and when she tries to hit me on the shoulder with the bundle, I reach out a hand.
“What are you doing, Lois?”
I try to hold her gaze, but now that I’ve accepted I’m in love with her, it hurts too much—having her so close, yet so far. She lets out a long sigh, and looks out across the garden, drumming her fingers on her thigh before leaning into me. Fuck. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered.
“I don’t get it. Your usual vibe is so…” She waves her hand in the air. “And this? This is just…”
She looks up at the sky, like I’m supposed to just read her mind. None of this is making sense. What the fuck is going on?
“Oh, and the playlist? It’s boring as hell. You know the part where you act like some stupid guy who can’t see how crazy he is about me? Well…”
I watch as she hugs the pages to her chest. I get the sense she’s about to up and leave, and so my fingers close around the fabric of her dress as I pull her into me, so close our legs are grazing.
“You’re the most confusing guy I’ve ever met,” she whispers.
“What’s the problem with the playlist?”
“I was thinking some Rihanna could up the tension. Like what about ‘Hate That I Love You’?”
“And?” I can’t stop staring at her mouth.
“That last part? That definitely never happened. You changed the whole fight scene and then made up the rest. You didn’t explain a thing that day—you yelled at me, and then you left. The end.”
She has a point. The whole screenplay is true to life, except for the part where I find her in Mike’s room. I wrote my epic fuckup out of that scene—my way of trying to tell her just how much I regret it. And then I wrapped it all up with the happy ending I’m still hoping we can work out.
“What do you think about the new ending?”
“Honestly?” She snorts. “I think it’s way too cheesy. What happened to all the sex scenes?”
I nearly choke on my own spit. “What? You always said I needed to add more romance!”
“Okay, sure. But we need some sex, too, damn it! All this tension and no release? I feel cheated.” She exaggerates a sigh. “Absolute disgrace, dude.”
I shake my head. I’m so confused right now.
“You… Okay, so back up: first of all, you need to quit hanging out with Lewis. And second of all—I’m confusing?”
She smiles. “Keep going. I love hearing you give me orders I definitely don’t plan on following.”
I slap a hand over her mouth. I need a second to get this out. Is she saying she forgives me? Or is she brushing me off? I can feel her lips moving under my palm, and before I know it, she’s sticking her tongue out, licking my hand.
“What do you want from me?” I ask.
She raises an eyebrow in response, shoving my hand away.
“I want you to start using your words, you dumbass.” She looks me straight in the eye. “And by the way, Lane—this is the perfect moment.”
Perfect for what? Does she want me to say something—or kiss her?
Fuck, O’Neill! My heart is hammering hard, and though I can’t think straight, I know I don’t have a second to waste.
I bring my hand to the nape of her neck, covering her lips with mine, kissing her like it’s the first time, because in a weird kind of way, this is our first real kiss.
Not some confusing fumble. Not some bullshit “mission.” This right here—it’s everything I ever wanted.
“I was hoping you’d, like, open up or something.” She pulls back. “Not stick your tongue down my throat.”
“It felt open-ended…”
I run my hands down to her hips and pull her in as close as I can in a near-frantic motion.
And when she doesn’t push me away, I hold her tighter, breathing her in and diving in for more.
I’m pretty sure I could tell her everything I need to with my tongue in her mouth.
She lets out a soft giggle, clasping my face in her hands, slowing us both down as I kiss her over and over, deeper and harder.
Though I’m not too sure what it all means, it feels fucking amazing.
The minutes blur, and I lose myself in her until I pull back, just to keep from tasting more than her mouth.
“Don’t think you’re getting away with it that easily,” she says, gasping for air. “I’m not that lovesick little Lois curled up on your couch anymore. I’m going to need a little more than a screenplay and a kiss.”
My legs are like Jell-O, and so I pull her over to the garden seat, lifting her up to straddle my lap. There’s so much I want to tell her, but I don’t want this moment to ever end. I wrap my arms around her waist, and lean my forehead against hers.
“You’re a real pain in the ass, Lane O’Neill. You know that?”
I nod, tightening my arms around her. I don’t want to ever let her go again.
“You really screwed up.”
“I know.”
“I had to read that script three times to make sure it was you—to make sure I understood the twisted way your brain works. You’re an all-or-nothing kind of guy, aren’t you?”
“I guess. But I can work on myself,” I add.
She rubs my nose with hers, pressing a thumb over my lips to stop me from kissing her.
“You know, I would’ve understood…”
I know exactly what she’s talking about. I take a sharp breath in, lacing my fingers behind her back.
“Mike and his room, I mean.” She gazes at me. “I would’ve understood, if only you’d told me. I’m so sorry, Lane.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.” I plant butterfly kisses at the corners of her lips. “And I’m sorry I told you the way I did. I wasn’t expecting you to be what I needed. To be who I needed, I mean.”
Her eyes are shining.
“You know what? Let’s talk more tomorrow. You can tell me about Mike—I want to know everything about him.” She smiles at me. “I bet he was way nicer than you.”
Laughter is bubbling up inside me. When she mentions my brother, there’s none of that bitterness I would normally feel.
“You’re right—let’s save it for tomorrow. So what’s the plan for tonight?”
She winks at me. “Why don’t we work out those scenes I mentioned?”
I throw my head back and burst out laughing.
“Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Heartbreak?” I grin. “That chick was practically a nun. You’re more like a—”
“If you say ‘porn star,’ consider yourself a dead man.”
“You know, Hardbait would make a pretty good stage name,” I say, tilting my head.
She arches an eyebrow. “Wow. You’re just so clever.”
I smile again, my hands sliding up her cheeks as I draw her in toward me.
“I missed you so fucking much.”
I kiss her again, slow and hard. Hearing her moan against my lips makes it hard for me to think straight.
“So am I forgiven?” I ask.
“I’m giving you one last chance—but you’re going to need to up your game.”
“Got any workarounds for my super boring ending?”
Without giving her time to answer, I claw at her tights and hike her dress up just enough to wedge myself deeper between her thighs.
“How about something like that?” I breathe, rocking her back and forth, watching intently as she grinds on top of me.
“Lots of things like that, yeah.”
Our rhythm gets rougher, messier. She grinds down harder, and with every one of her movements, I can feel myself getting closer to the edge. Just as I’m about to completely lose it, I grab her ass, palms full, and surge up, lifting her with me in one motion.
As our eyes meet, she raises an eyebrow.
“Not here,” I rasp, breathless. “Not on a couch. Not this time.”
I capture her smiling lips and make a beeline for one of the bedrooms, cutting through the fastest possible route.
“Hurry up,” she pants, her breath hot against my ear.
I’ve spent so long fantasizing about this, obsessing over all the things we could do, so scared that I let everything we had slip away.
It feels like I’ve waited a lifetime for this moment—long enough to make my kisses hungry and my touches rushed.
But even as my mouth craves hers and my body aches for her touch, something deeper is uncoiling inside me.
A rush of feeling spreading through my chest. Something that finally matches the feelings I’ve been too scared to name.
It’s wild how I wasted so much time pretending I wasn’t already hers.
How the hell did I wait this long to admit how much I love her?
Her breath is coming hot and ragged against my tongue.
I clasp her to my chest, kneeling on the bed as I lower us down onto the mattress.
Despite the layers of clothes between us, the way I need her right now has my head spinning.
When she pushes me back into the pillow, I have no idea where I am anymore.
I look up at her.
“Strip. Now.”
Like I need any encouragement. Tossing my T-shirt on the floor, I realize Lois is still wearing her dress. I prop myself up on my elbows. Her eyes trail the length of my body.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen you completely naked,” she whispers, her eyes coming to rest between my legs.
“And?”
“You should’ve just shown up like this. I would’ve forgiven you straight off the bat.”
“Damn. If I’d known all it’d take is a glimpse of my super body for you to fall in love with me…”
Did I really just say that? I’m about to take it all back, when Lois jumps in.
“I was in love with you way before that, Captain Super Oblivious. That’s why it hurt so bad.”
I’ve been so damn blind. In that moment, I make myself a promise: I’m going to make it up to her—starting today, and every day after.
Her eyes meet mine.
“So? You going to help me with these tights, or what?”
Before she has time to finish, I’m lunging for her, slipping two fingers under her waistband, pulling her closer.
“Listen carefully, Lois. Since sex is all you seem to have in mind tonight, I’ll give you that ending you want,” I whisper, pressing my mouth to her ear.
“I’m going to make you come exactly three times.
You’re going to scream my name every damn time.
And once you’ve earned it like the good girl you are”—I pause just long enough to let the words sink in—“maybe then we’ll go back to the cheesy one-liners. ”
She bites her lip, pupils dilated. “That three times a week—or just tonight?”
“Why don’t you find out?” I smirk. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re moaning that you’re mine.”
I yank her tights down to her ankles, then trail my hands up her back, fingers hunting for the zipper of her dress.
“You’re real quiet,” I say, pausing. “This still too romantic for you?”
“Oh, shut up!” She shimmies off her dress and jumps back on me, grabbing a fistful of my hair to pull me down into the bed with her. She kisses me deep and slow—easily the best damn kiss of my life—before suddenly pulling back.
She gestures between us. “I need to know—is this for real?”
“You read the screenplay.” I frown. “Do you really need to ask?”
“No. But I really want to hear you say it.”
I take a deep breath in. “Welcome to life in the fast lane, Lois—I’m crazy about you.”
She smiles. “Great. Then we can wrap things up.”
I gaze down at her. “I feel like I’m a bad influence on you.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Fuck, no!”
WHEN WE FINALLY MAKE IT back to the party—about a thousand years later—Lois beelines for the buffet, and I crack up watching her glare at the guy blocking her path to the pizzas. I’m still watching her when I suddenly feel myself surrounded by my best friends.
“That T-shirt? Definitely not giving,” Lewis says, shaking his head. “An absolute freaking disgrace, dude.”
I smile. I still can’t take my eyes off Lois.
“Oh God,” he sighs. “It’s official—Lane has unlocked obsessed-boyfriend mode.”
“Relax. He’s literally just checking out her ass,” Carter clarifies.
“Maybe he’s just really into pinatas?” suggests Don.
Lewis screeches. “Do not bring that up! I’m so triggered right now.”
“I think it’s a pretty good pinata,” Adam says, dodging a kick.
“Looks like your screenplay did the trick.” Carter smiles. “You switching to rom-coms now?”
“Don’t worry.” I smile. “There won’t be a sequel.”
Across the room, Lois waves a slice of pizza at me and takes a bite.
“I’m pretty sure that’s a wrap.”