What Lola Wants (London Dolls Book 1) (2 page)

“Since you asked so nicely,” he glanced up and frowned, his aqua eyes narrowing, “there are paper cups by the sink. But make it quick. I was on my way out.”

He stepped aside, and she clapped sight of the space again.

A lump caught in her throat. “Weird seeing the place so empty.”

“Sis moved out last weekend. I’m doing the last check then posting the keys through the letter box when I’m done.”

Louisa rushed to the sink and filled a cup with tap water. “Bet she had a wild moving-out party, judging by the mess.”

“No party.” He slipped his phone into his pants pocket.”

She sipped the cool liquid. “So, what? A pack of animals lived here?”

“Dear, Lola.” He pointed across the dingy space, a slight curve rounding his mouth. “Look around. It’s the same as always.”

“Nope, the place is a dive. Even the lift smells like tramp central. Sure, our housing budget sucked for central London. It was never this bad, though.”

“You must loan me those rose-tints one day. Anyway, chop, chop. You’ve finished your drink yet you’re still here, what is it you want?”

“Jane, of course.” It had been her intention to find her all along, but Dennis and his homecoming hug had swayed her focus. Above all, it had ignited the passion simmering in her gut and growing with every second spent in his presence. But the earlier phone call she’d overheard about wedding cake suggested he was taken. Her return home was too late. Shame it took an unrelenting ex and a forced break to get her mind off the next performance and back onto her life.

“As you can see, she’s not here.” Fussing with thick hair flopping over his blues, he flitted his gaze over her shoulder as if she were Miss Invisible.

“Well, where is she? I’ve a lot to catch her up on. Oh, to collapse with a cuppa and the latest edition of
Variety
. Cakes will be involved no doubt, and a gossip session on the celebrity news.”

“Yes, cakes and gossip. I remember that’s all you two ever did together. And dance, of course.” A groan vibrated from him. “You’ll need the Tottenham Court Road Station stop.”

“I’m exhausted, what’s the quickest way there? Better still, do you have the number for a taxi?”

“Fine.” He sighed and spun a set of keys on his index finger.

“What?”

“I’ll take you to your leader.”

“Who?”

“Jane, of course,” he sighed and sauntered to the hallway. “To get you out from under my feet.”

She followed him. “Ouch. It’s nice to see you, too, Dennis.”

“What did you expect?” He turned his back to her, locked the door, and grabbed the glitter sign. “For me to sweep you up and spin you as if in a wildly romantic love affair? Wake up and smell reality, Lola. You hurt me.”

Her heart panged.

“I’m,” she reached toward his arm, “I’m so sorry.”

He pivoted to face her and shook his head, squashing any slither of hope that he might still love her. “I spent all those years looking after you as my baby sister’s best friend, and you threw me for a loop when you snogged me. I had no idea how electric a kiss could be. ” He exhaled and glanced at his feet. “It hurts to think you didn’t even look back, never once wrote me a letter or sent me a text. Nothing. And since you never forwarded an address, all I could do was ask Jane to give you a nudge to call me. But you never did.”

“Dennis, I’m sorry. I thought about calling you. Really, I did. And I wrote you a ton of letters.”

He strode to the lift across the hallway and hit the button to go down. “I never got any.”

“I never sent them,” she replied and scurried to his side.

“No, I shouldn’t imagine The Great Alfonso would’ve liked that. How long have you been with Al now?”

She huffed then said under her breath, “Too long.”

He tightened his lips into a thin line and paused for a moment. “So, any talk of wedding bells for you two?”

“I’d rather not discuss him if that’s okay.”

“Why?”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Anywhere, start anywhere. Start when you left to be this big star with the ‘best choreographer in the whole wide world’ and didn’t give me a second thought.”

“I don’t know.”

He hit the down button again then crossed his arms and glowered.

“Really, I don’t know how to make sense of my stupidity. I got stars in my eyes, and reality clouded for a while. I don’t even know what compelled me to turn my cheek in our farewell embrace, Dennis. But I did, and you met my lips with yours.”

“So kissing me was stupid? A mistake?”

“No, no. I’m not saying that. The way I left, that was stupid.” She dropped her gaze. “I’m stupid.”

Nudging her chin with this thumb, he whispered, “Don’t say that.”

“But I was. I truly believed my dreams for dance were bigger than any happy ending a man could’ve given me, that
you
could have given me.”

“No man can give you a happy ending, Lola. You need to make that on your own steam.” His stare darkened. “But I could have been there for you, supported you…loved you.”

Her legs turned to mush, and she reached for his shoulders for support but stopped herself mid-grab. He was taken. She had to move on.

All she had now, besides a jealous ex and the one that got away, was a sinking dance career. Fun times. Not. While love letters and yellow roses were his weapons of choice, the idea of Al stalking her gave her the shivers.

She painted on a smile and said, “I’m glad you’re happy. You
are
happy, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he said. But his frown said no.

Chapter Two

Sitting opposite him on the train, she flicked her toffee-colored hair behind her perfect little ears with lobes meant for nibbling.

She pulled a pack of gum from the pocket of her tailored coat and offered him some.

He shook his head. “No, thanks.”

Typical Lola. While she hadn’t changed—still hid behind buckets of self-assurance—he certainly had. No longer the guy who used his days riding waves to ignore the world. Nope. Not anymore. He knew what he wanted. And that didn’t involve city-crazy, or complications of the heart.

She dipped her gaze and shoved the packet away.

Then quiet.

She glanced at him, her gaze distant. Something bothered her, but he daren’t ask what it was and risk getting involved.

Pretending to have no interest in her, he directed his attention out the window into the blackness of the underground tunnel the vessel raced through and tapped his digits over the plaque he’d grabbed for his sister. The reflection of a bickering family in the section across from where he sat drew his attention for a short while.

Sneaking a peek at Lola proved irresistible, though, and nagged at him until he gave in.

She caught his gaze in hers, smiled, and mouthed, “You okay?”

Far from okay, but damned if he was going to let her know.

“Fine,” he replied.

His earlier “thanks for breaking my heart but I’m over you” confession had rolled off his tongue too easily. Such a reprieve seemed so far away.

No one matched up to her. No one ever would.

She was back, but for how long?

A need to be in Torquay, ripping the high tide and fighting his incessant need to be under her spell washed over him, and an agonizing ache brewed. How could this one woman bring him to his knees so easily? He was screwed, so much for focusing on working towards running Torquay’s new technical college. All he could think about now was her, Lola, the first and only girl to ever make his heart ache.

The doors slid open. He hopped off the train and instinct made him turn and hold out a hand to steady her so she didn’t trip or lose luggage.

“Thanks, Dennis.”

“Yeah, sure.” He hoped he sounded casual. Tried to, anyway, and even yawned to draw attention to his faked lack of interest.

She reached for his shoulder and squeezed. “This is where we—”

“Kissed,” he stated.

“Yes, kissed.” Her eyes watered and she rounded her mouth and let out a soft sigh.

Ah, hell.

“I wish I hadn’t fought against loving you,” she whispered. “But I’m glad you’ve moved on and found someone worthy of you.”

A coldness closed in on him, suffocating and unbearable. He had found someone, Bianca, but his heart still belonged to Lola. He feared he may never get over loving her, but he needed to. He badly needed to.

“You got what you wanted, you became famous.” He hunched.

“Who was I kidding to deny us our happy ending?”

He leapt up the stairs to reach open space and gasped for air.

She kept pace with him, pulling along her battered suitcase and pink hold-all.

Bright lights, manic traffic, and people jaunting back and forth made for plenty of distraction. Navigating London in the evening was never fun if you walked against the flow. He should have taken her to Jane’s new flat. But if he took her directly to his sister at work, she’d become her problem all the sooner. Going out of his way to help her, even this once, he risked becoming addicted to her again. Something was going on with her, he knew it, sensed it in her faraway gaze just like he always could. Lola’s petite size and perfect pout made it difficult to ignore this particular damsel in distress. He had to try, though.

He stood tall and pushed out his chest. “Let’s make one thing clear before the night gets any older. Once we find Jane, I’m out of here. Seeing you again, it hasn’t been too much fun.”

“Do you honestly think I hurt you on purpose?”

He nodded. “You made me love you and then you disappeared.” Taking a deep breath, he maneuvered through the crowded streets.

“I’m so sorry, Dennis.”

“Uh-huh.” The city traffic frustrated the hell out of him—busses pulling out without warning, and car horns sounding as drivers forced their way into the flow and took risky junction exits. Those on foot pushed into each other as they peered at the show-stopping lights on billboards and in windows.

“I always knew Jane would make it. Last we spoke, she had been bumped from chorus line to a speaking role in Wicked.” She stared at the show ads surrounding them, and the bright lights of the West End, her eyes wide and her smile wider still. “I bet she’s lead by now.”

He nodded. “She’s made it, for sure.”

“I just love London. Remind me, why did I leave again?”

He daren’t remind her, tell her it was because she was selfish and dream-driven; it’d mean crushing her little high. She always could see the magical in the most ordinary of things; it was part of her charm. “I don’t get how anyone can love the bustle of the place as much as you do.”

“I just adore the excitement and all the pretty lights. Reminds me of when Jane and I first came here to study dance. I had the best time being without my mum’s tight rein for the first time. Don’t you love it?” She shook her head. “No, of course, you’d rather be back home in Torquay near the ocean, wouldn’t you?”

An elderly lady with a walking cane thwacked Dennis’s leg and charged past him.

He cringed. “I enjoy the city, somewhat.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He growled, annoyed she hadn’t sensed his sarcasm and lack of enthusiasm.

“Fine, I can take a hint. I’ll stop with the billion questions.”

A chuckle fell from his mouth. “Finally.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waggled a finger at him and scowled. “Whatever. Hey, shout if you see a cash machine. I’m down to my last twenty.”

“There’s one across the street.”

Treading onto the road, he ushered her to follow. A bus whizzed by and he double-stepped back onto the pavement, stumbling into her.

“Ow. My arm.” She dropped her bags and rubbed her elbow, knocking his sister’s beloved door plaque from his hand and into the direct path of oncoming traffic. A red Mini drove over it, cracking it into pieces.

“Fuck.” God, it felt great to swear again. Bianca hated a foul mouth, and he’d trained himself to say poppycock instead of swearing around her. “Poppy-fucking-cock.”

The precious artwork lay shattered across the road, in too many pieces for any hope of gluing it back together. His sister would probably slap him then ignore him for weeks and deny him her baking. A torture he’d rather avoid.

“You all right?” She rubbed his arm.

“Fine. Stupid bloody bus drivers think they own the roads.”

“The lights have changed, let’s cross while we have a chance.” She grabbed her bags and scurried across to safety. He followed.

“I don’t know why you came back to London,” he hissed. “Don’t you long for the quiet of Torquay?”

She sighed. “Torquay was never exactly quiet for me.”

“Yes. Of course, nothing could be quiet with your mother.”

She scowled. Ah hell, he’d touched a sore spot.

“Didn’t you say there was a cash machine around here?”

“It’s coming up,” he replied.

A double-decker pulled up beside them. The same Doll House advert she’d seen earlier spanned the length of the vehicle.

An elderly couple exited, and the bus rolled back into the flow of traffic.

“That’s the fifth time I’ve seen that ad since arriving. When did stripping become a viable advertising option for public transport?”

“What? I almost get run over and kill the last piece of art Jane made with Mum, and you chatter on about busses and strippers?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s not all gloom and doom. Jane and I bought that plaque together from the pound shop.”

He pursed his lips. “Jane, I’ll bloody kill her.”

“Please don’t.” A smirk spread on her pretty little face.

He couldn’t wait to see her reaction when she found out where Jane worked. He could be nice and tell her his sister was
the
headliner for The Doll House, but there’d be no fun in that. And damn it, being in her presence took him back to when they were in high school. He’d liked to prank her a lot back then, too. She was just too adorable when she was mad, so adorable that he couldn’t help but poke at her.

She sighed. “Yup. Happy hour all day at that place, I bet.”

“I see you’re a Devonshire lass still holding everyone to your very high standards.”