I offer a tight smile, sliding her a mug of coffee. “Yeah… I kinda forgot about that.”
But I didn’t. Not completely.
I remember a younger Lola, always glued to Braden’s side. Laughing too loud at his jokes. Touching his arm when she didn’t need to. Claiming to be “like a sister,” but her eyes tellinga different story. Even then, there was something obsessive simmering just beneath the surface.
She takes a sip of the coffee and moans like I’ve just handed her liquid gold. “Oh, wow. You do know how to make it strong.”
“I try.”
There’s a moment of silence, weighted.
Lola sips her coffee, eyes scanning the kitchen like she’s reliving every ghost of the past. Her gaze eventually lands on me, a faint smile playing on her lips — too polite, too careful.
“So,” she says, dragging out the word like it tastes sweet. “You and Logan, huh?”
I raise a brow. “Yeah. Me and Logan.”
She hums, tracing the rim of her mug with one finger. “Must be hard. I mean… trusting someone like him. All that fame. That body.” Her lips twist upward. “That face.”
My spine straightens, but I say nothing.
She leans in, voice dropping just enough to feel like a secret. “I don’t know how you do it. Loving someone the whole world wants. Knowing that temptation’s only ever a whisper away. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Her eyes gleam, just slightly. “What happens the day he stops whispering back no?”
The words hit like a chill.
But I don’t flinch. I look her straight in the eye, voice low and even. “You trusted my brother, didn’t you?”
Her smile falters — just for a second. But I see it.
She shrugs, forced casual. “Braden was different.”
“Was he?” I tilt my head. “Or is that just what you told yourself?”
There’s a beat of silence between us, heavy and sharp-edged.
I don’t need her doubts. I don’t want her poison. And I sure as Hell won’t let her rewrite the love I have with Logan just because she never got the ending she wanted with Braden.
Not today. Not ever.
Then, casually, she says, “Mind if I use the bathroom before I go?”
I glance up from my mug. “Sure.”
She smiles, already rising. “Thanks, sugar.”
I watch her go.
I don’t know why my stomach sinks like it does, but something feels… off. Like I’ve just opened the door to something I can’t close again.
A long minute ticks by.
Then two.
Then three.
The front door creaks open again and a voice I know like my own heartbeat calls, “Mac?”
Logan.
