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“No. I meant it all.” We’re both silent, staring at each other, lost in thoughts and memories.
“It was you, you know. That gave me the confidence. Watching you finally stand up to your dad? Hell, even watching Lilah do it, confess what she knew.” He laughs, a deep, almost self-deprecating laugh. “Strange that it took two women in chaos to show me I needed to grow a pair.” I smile back at him, brushing a thumb over his full bottom lip, the one I always find myself looking at when he’s talking.
“You’re tough and brave in your own way, baby.” We’re silent for a few long moments, me drawing shapes on his bare chest, tracing inked-in lines, him playing with my hair before he speaks. His hand moves from my hair, a thumb going under my chin, tipping it until I look at him.
“You know I love you, Lola,” he says, his voice whisper soft, breath brushing my lips, my stomach tumbling in circles with his words.
It’s the first time he’s said it outright.
I should tell him I love him too, that this is right, that I’m happy we found each other.
But I’m me.
I can’t let him do this. So I smile, smile big—I let that much show before I speak.
“Yeah, I know.” His lips tip up, and he puffs out a small laugh, rolling his eyes, but that thumb keeps brushing my skin like a metronome.
“Will you ever make it easy on me?”
“Would you love me if I did?” I ask in response.
“Probably not.” He presses his lips to mine, soft and gentle, before we fall back into our comfortable silence.
“You know I love you too, right?” I say, wondering if maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t know, and his own gut is unsure.
But Ben knows me. I think he always has.
“Yeah, sweet girl. I know.”
Epilogue
-Ben-
Four years later
I walkinto a strange mix of cackling laughter and crying.
For a normal household, this would probably be cause for concern.
But Hattie’s Beetle is parked out front, and I know Lola’s been home all day. Those two together usually call for some chaotic mix of emotions.
My assumptions are confirmed when I enter the living room through the mudroom Lola forced me to refinish and see my girl sitting on our big couch with my best friend.
Hattie is laughing.
Lola is crying.
Sounds about right.
“BABE!” Lola shouts when she sees me, pushing the iPad they were sharing to the side and running toward me. I open my arms and brace for impact.
“Hey, sweet girl. You good?” I ask after she slams into me, hooks her arms around my neck, and lifts her legs. They wrap around my hips, and her tear-streaked face moves back.
“No! There are so many of them. So many, Ben! They need homes!”
“So many what?” I have a sinking suspicion, though, as one arm wraps under Lola’s ass and another moves so my thumb can wipe away a tear. I look to Hattie for clarification.
Hattie, who is smiling at me with that fucking look she gets when she knows I’m going to want to kill her after whatever Lola says.
