Her breath shivers, and for a long second, neither of us moves.
Then something shifts in her expression like she remembers herself. Confidence snaps back into place, and she steps away slowly. “Well,” she says lightly, “guess that makes two of us.”
She turns, then stops, glancing back. And something real slips free.
“Lola,” she blurts. “My name’s Lola.”
A smile pulls at my mouth despite myself. Lola wants me to remember her.
And there’s not a chance in hell I could ever forget her.
She blows me a kiss as she walks backward toward the bar. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” she calls. “But don’t count on it.” Her eyes sparkle with challenge. “I’m not a woman who gets passed up twice.”
Confident. And so fucking hot that I’ve got a semi.
She spins and disappears inside. And I stay there in the cool night air long after the door swings shut.
Because something tells me that even if fireflies have a short lifespan, they still burn bright. And I’m not sure I can let this onego off into the night without knowing what it would be like, even just for one night, to stand in her flame.
I could let myself be free again. Be Hunter. Not the one everyone relies on. But the man she sees. That could have her screaming out my name and coming so hard she forgets her own.
Fuck.
Lola. Lola. Lola.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LOLA
“You smell like cigarettes, Lola Jackson,”Violet scolds as I slide in beside her at the bar.
“I’m being naughty today. I won’t start again, promise,” I tell her with a pout.
She leans back, studying me. “I like this version of you here. You’re so much… brighter. It’s nice.”
I smile because I feel that way too. I don’t wake up dreading the day anymore. Replying to emails. Taking staged photos in clothes companies send me so my parents can brag about their perfect daughter.
Making sure my tits look incredible for likes.
Here, I’m just me. No one watching. No one reporting back.
She bumps my shoulder. “That guy over there wants to dance with me.” She points to a smiling guy with a moustache at the other end of the bar.
“I’m going. You good? I don’t want to leave you on your own.”
I laugh, tapping her arm. “I’m an adult. Go dance. I’ll be around.”
She hops off the stool, and seconds later, he’s spinning her around, both of them laughing.
Cute.
And suddenly my bladder reminds me I drank way too fast.
I scan the wall until I find the crooked bathroom sign and start weaving through the crowd. The place is getting a hell of a lot busier.
I can’t even see Hunter’s table anymore.
Couples grind together, someone pours vodka straight into another guy’s mouth, and people shout lyrics at the band. But I keep going on my mission to pee.