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Lola nods. “Maybe dad will be able to help.”
No, no, no, I almost scream, picturing Lola’s friendly expression turning hateful if she ever found out how badly I want her dad.
“I’m sure he’ll have more to worry about,” I say. “I’m just glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you too.”
Lola smiles, and I do what I’ve done countless times before when we’re together.
I push the desire, heat, and my need as far away as possible, not letting myself think about how no one compares to Felix, what it would be like if he wrapped his strong arms around me and pushed his firm body against mine.
“How’s college going?” I ask.
“Great,” she says.
We talk about her classes for a while. Lola opted to study here, in the city, whereas I thought leaving would be a good idea. New experiences and all that. And, secretly, part of me wanted to get away from the city before Felix returned.
I can’t keep letting myself crush on him. But I can’t stop either.
As Lola’s talking about the test she’s going to take in a few weeks’ time, her phone vibrates and makes an alert sound from her desk. She spins in the chair, grinning as she spins back to me, staring down at her phone.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Dad’s just landed,” she says. “He’s on his way.”
My reflexes try to send me to my feet, right for the door.
I’ll run…someplace, which makes no sense.
Lola’s offered to let me crash here until I’ve found my own place.
She had the spare room waiting for me when the cab dropped me off, with fresh sheets and a scented candle burning, so welcoming after the mayhem of the dorm, I almost shed a tear.
But now I’m thinking about the chaotic dorm.
Even if I hated it – the noise, sharing my space, and, I think really, the fact I simply didn’t want to be in college – it’s easier than trying to fake…nothing.
Casualness. Disinterest.
As if my body doesn’t start crackling with flames the moment I think about him.
“Does your dad know I’m staying here?” I ask.
Lola gives me a look. “This is my apartment. He doesn’t need to give his approval.”
I smile for a moment. It’s good, at least, that Lola has a father who supports her without using it as some kind of bargaining chip. But then, at the same time, I was never close with Marcus. I only knew him for three years before mom passed.
“You know you’re welcome to that second room,” Lola goes on. “I was going to turn it into an office, but I haven’t got around to it yet. You can stay here as long as you want, rent-free. Honestly, it might be a little amazing if we become roomies.”
Conflicting emotions twist through me, the warm glow corrupted by the fact I want her father so badly it aches. I ignore that part, walking over to her and giving her a big hug.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “That means so much to me. But I am going to help with the rent. And other bills.”
“If you want,” Lola says, shrugging. “But you don’t have to.”
“You’re a good person, Lola. The best.”
I turn away before she can sense the uncertainty in me. No uncertainty about whether or not she’s a good person – there’s no doubt there – but toward this very situation.
