the aisle. “Lola, listen. What you're poking at here... maybe there's a reason I don't want to go into it. Okay?”
Holding her ground, she looked into my eyes and didn't waver. “So there is something you're hiding from me.”
Frost darted through my veins. What does she know? “Everyone hides things.” Lola's eyes rippled, hinting at a deep guilt. She had hidden things from me, too, until recently. I was sure I could have turned the whole conversation on its head until she felt bad about pressing me.
Instead, I settled for wrapping her hands in mine. Her breath caught as I pulled her against my chest, my voice soft in the silence of the bus. “Lola, listen to me. You want to know more about my past, but it's just not worth knowing. Nothing about who I was before we met is important.”
She leaned into me, stiff as old bread. The way she was resisting me, all while her heart thumped along my ribs, just encouraged me to try and break her down. Before I could do anything beyond nuzzling her tender throat, Lola squeezed my fingers and turned away. “Everything about you is important. Past, present, and even future. Isn't it the same for you about me?”
Shit. She had me there. I wanted to know, to have, everything about Lola Cooper. Gingerly, I glided my fingers up her arms, explored her goosebumps. When I reached her shoulders I cupped them. “Trust me. When I say my old life isn't important, I mean it. I don't want you asking me about it. Alright? Lola?”
Her eyelashes hid those blues from my view. “No. It's not alright.” Her elegant neck arched back, allowing her to look at me so matter-of-factly. “You told me not to lie, or to act tough when I'm faking it. So I won't. I'm frustrated you won't talk to me. Hell, I'm even mad about it. But I also won't force you to tell me about your past.” Untangling herself, she scooped up the notebook from the table. “Come on. You wanted to practice, let's go do it.”
The air around me felt... colder. Watching her taut spine, how her shoulders were pulled back sharply enough to treat her shirt like a coat hanger, I regretted my words. But what else can I do?
In what world would telling Lola about my fucked up life help either of us?
****
We had the practice room to ourselves for some time. That was good, because I was rusty as hell on guitar, and didn't want Colt and Porter seeing me fumble. We should have practiced sooner. It didn't help that I was feeling the pressure from Lola's glum mood.
Tightening my strings, I glanced up at her where she sat close by. We both needed to see the sheet of paper with the music notes, especially as we randomly scribbled changes while we worked.
The song we were creating was coming together. It was a beautiful thing made muddy by the sourness between us both.
“You think this part should be faster?” she asked, tapping the page, adjusting the Stratocaster in her lap. “Where you sing, 'Wrapping, coiling, merging with the world?'”
When she says the lyrics so bluntly, it makes me feel... ashamed? She was missing the whole core of the song. My face was hot; looking at her was difficult. Shit. I feel like an awkward teen all over again, fuck. “Yeah. Let's speed that section up.”
Lola smudged more pencil down, then plucked a few notes thoughtfully. “I think that'll sound better. More intense.”
I drained my water bottle. “You write a lot of music before this?”
“None.” At my look of disbelief, Lola shrugged. “Nothing structured, I mean. I just goofed off and made stuff up when it came to me.”
Thinking about her audition, I let my stunned smile take over. “A damn prodigy.”
She shifted on the stool. I could see the pink blush coating her cheeks. “Says the guy who can play guitar and sing.”
“I told you.” My fingers slid down the neck of the instrument, exploring it as if I'd never held one of its kind. “I'm only okay at guitar. You have ears.”
“My ears tell me you're better than you think.”
“Guess we're even, then.”
Chewing the side of her lip, Lola focused on the floor. “Come on. Let's play this again. Neither of us are where we want to be, yet.”
No, I thought sullenly, letting my guitar pick strike the chords. Right now I want to be on you, wrapped up in your scent and