Chapter 3
L ola had no idea what had come over her.
She’d imagined that when she heard “Stand by Me” at a wedding, she’d be slow dancing with someone she loved.
Performing was one of the few things she could do that always felt right.
All the different versions of herself that normally took so much effort to balance came together onstage.
But tonight, at the end of her set, her heart felt even more than usual like a wound barely patched over in her chest, as if being surrounded by so much love had split her fragile new scars.
Already, Lola had been navigating the reception in an unaccustomed haze of public awkwardness.
Her mother, as usual, set Lola on edge. She never knew how Donna would react when her daughters were the object of attention.
Thankfully, she seemed to relish the role of Mother of the Bride, so it had been beaming pride, not fiendish jealousy.
But that could change in a second, and on Claudia’s day, it would be Lola’s responsibility to settle her.
On top of that, some of these guests had known her when she was a kid in headgear—literally, her mom had insisted on inviting their orthodontist. They might remember the time she forgot the words to the national anthem at a hockey game.
Now, they all wanted their moment with Lola Gray, the star.
She didn’t want to disappoint them, but she couldn’t let her presence detract from Claudia and Josh.
It would have made it all better if she’d had someone at her side, who was there just for her. Someone who could see, even through her smile, that she was spinning out, who would squeeze her hand and tell her she was doing a good job.
But she didn’t have that, and she wasn’t going to find it here.
What she might find instead was distraction, release.
She hadn’t quite gone looking for Renee when she edged around the dance floor to the bar.
But she knew Renee would be there. She’d spotted her from the stage: leaning against the wall to show off the tattoos that ran from elbow to shoulder.
Renee had this energy as if she’d been born with no fucks to give, and Lola, who cared too much about everyone, always found it magnetic.
As she danced with Claudia, her cheeks flushed as she replayed what she’d said to Renee.
Whenever she allowed herself to flirt with a woman, Lola chose her words carefully, to maximize deniability if anything got out.
But from the way Renee’s eyes had widened, her body canted into Lola’s, her meaning had come across.
It was pathetic, getting a rush from a two-minute conversation. She’d probably imagined the sexual tension. Renee had only gotten hotter in the last ten years, and Lola was lonely—lonely and horny.
Which was probably why, while guests were loading into the bus that would take them to the hotel after-party, Lola’s thoughts were still caught on Renee.
“You really won’t come?” Claudia begged her as Josh’s cousins triumphantly emerged from the venue bearing crates of leftover alcohol. “You’d have fun.”
Lola gave her an apologetic smile.
“You know I’d love to, but I have an early flight and I’m at a different hotel.”
Lola was thankful for the excuse. As much as she wanted to please her sister, Claudia was wrong: Lola would not have fun. She’d feel, as she had all night, like everyone else lived on planet Earth and she was a satellite circling above them.
All night, except that moment with Renee.
Lola waved to her sister as the bus pulled away.
On the other side of it, Renee was standing by her car, looking at her phone.
Suddenly, Lola felt reckless. The guests were gone. Her team had made sure to keep the venue private, and anyway, this was Fellows, not Hollywood. Besides, who knew when—if—she’d see Renee again?
Lola’s feet were moving across the parking lot before she realized she’d made up her mind.
“No after-party?” she called.
When Renee looked up and took Lola in, her green eyes seemed to darken. A shiver of excitement traveled down Lola’s spine.
“Not my vibe. I don’t know why I thought driving myself was a good idea.”
“One too many Joshinators?”
“Maybe one too many, and now I can’t get a car.” Renee shook her hair out of her face. “Aren’t you going?”
“I already told you what I’d rather be doing,” Lola said quietly. Renee’s red-painted lips curved with interest. It made Lola feel bold. “Why don’t you come back to my hotel? We can catch up, and I can have that glass of champagne while you sober up.”
Renee’s brows drew together as she studied Lola. Lola’s stomach clenched, steeling for rejection.
But Renee asked, “You sure?”
Lola nodded, then flinched as Renee tossed something toward her. A set of keys hit the pavement at her feet.
“Don’t tell me you forgot how to drive, Lo.”
Lola’s dress pooled on the ground as she bent to grab the keys.
***
Lola’s hotel was twenty minutes away in Grand Rapids.
The vision of Lola Gray, international pop star, at the wheel of Renee’s battered Elantra was absurd and borderline frightening.
She was so short she had to move the seat all the way up and adjust every mirror, twice—only to nearly make an illegal left at a red light.
Wild honking from her security team, tailing them in a black SUV, had stopped her.
Renee hadn’t noticed Lola’s security at the wedding.
Now she wondered if they’d seen that moment at the bar, or the one in the parking lot—if they knew what those moments meant.
If they meant anything.
Safely at the hotel, Lola and Renee were escorted into an elevator by Henry, Lola’s head of security, who had thin salt-and-pepper hair and a body like a slab of beef. Lola introduced Renee as a childhood friend.
“We’re catching up,” Renee said. She didn’t want Henry to assume Lola had brought her back here to fuck.
Not that Renee was sure that was why Lola had brought her back here.
Maybe they really would chat about the last few years, and she’d ignore the newfound humming in her blood when she looked at Lola.
“Have a wonderful night,” Henry said as he swiped a key card at Lola’s door—a standard sign-off or the equivalent of a knowing wink?
Renee peeked around the suite: probably the finest Grand Rapids had to offer, with a separate living room area, a king bed, and a bathroom with a jacuzzi tub. Two gigantic suitcases had puked up their contents onto the carpet.
“Here we are!” Renee turned to see Lola brandishing a bottle of champagne.
Lola peeled the foil off, then twisted free the wire cage and started pushing at the cork. Her forehead wrinkled, glossy lips pursed in effort, but the cork didn’t budge.
Renee crossed the room and slid her hands against the neck of the bottle so that the cork was in her fist, although Lola still gripped the body. They were right up against each other, and the space between them seemed to fizz and spark.
“It’ll explode if you do it like that,” Renee said, conscious of how close her mouth was now to Lola’s ear. “You have to be gentle.”
One hand tight on the cork, she guided her other to Lola’s and twisted the bottle. The cork loosened and pulled free with a sigh. Blue vapor flowed from the mouth of the bottle.
When Renee stepped back, her eyes snagged on the quick, shallow rise and fall of Lola’s chest. Then Lola remembered herself, the cold bottle in her hand.
“Can I pour you a glass?”
“I thought I was sobering up,” Renee said. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“You won’t. You can stay as long as you want,” Lola said.
“Okay.”
Lola went to the table and filled two flutes, her back to Renee. But when she was done, instead of handing one to Renee, Lola took a long look at her from over her shoulder, her eyes dark and her lower lip held between her teeth.
“What is it?” Renee asked.
Lola grabbed something off the table and turned to face her. “It’s just—do you mind signing this?” She was holding out a form.
Non-Disclosure Agreement , the document read.
“An NDA?” Renee’s eyebrows jumped up. “Worried I’ll post an embarrassing picture on Instagram?”
“Sell it to a tabloid, actually, but same idea. Sorry, I know it’s awkward, but my team will kill me if I don’t … and it makes it a little easier for me to relax.” Her deep brown eyes flitted between Renee’s face and the paper in her hands.
“I don’t know, Lo. You’ve got me all alone in your hotel room, and now you’re telling me whatever happens here will be our secret,” Renee said slowly, allowing some of that simmering anticipation to enter her voice. “What are you planning to do to me?”
Lola was twisting a pen in her hands and watching Renee intensely. She opened her mouth, closed it again. Renee could tell Lola was fighting the urge to reassure her that there was nothing planned, that Renee had it all wrong.
But by now, Renee was certain she didn’t have it all wrong.
“I’ll just have to find out.” Renee took the pen and scribbled her signature.
As soon as she’d handed the document back to Lola, it was fluttering out of her fingers and to the floor.
Lola surged forward. All at once, her lips were against Renee’s.
Renee startled—she hadn’t expected Lola to jump her, nor had she expected the smoothness of Lola’s lips, or that she’d taste of spearmint, like she’d snuck a mint without Renee seeing.
Renee opened her lips for Lola, leaning down into her eager mouth.
There was nothing teasing or subtle about the way Lola kissed her.
When she drew Renee’s lower lip between hers and sucked, with just a hint of pressure from her teeth, desire surged through Renee’s body.
If Lola was that hungry for her, Renee was happy to submit.
Lola broke away, just barely, and breathed, “Sorry, is this okay?”
Renee didn’t want to think too hard about what this was or wasn’t.
“Don’t apologize. Don’t stop,” Renee sighed against her needfully, and Lola didn’t.