Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 125

Chapter 125

Lola

165

The weeks blurred into a rhythm Lola never thought she’d have being cared for.

a balance between work, chaos, and something dangerously close to

Her hair appointment got pushed once, then twice, life never quite letting her sit in the salon chair long enough to bleach out her deep cherry red. But she kept every makeup session with Babbs. Each time she slipped into the seat, the artist raised an eyebrow like she knew

but Babbs never called her out. Lola was lying through her teeth about “some show” she needed flawless skin and tattoo cover–up for Just dusted her in powder, brushed color over her lips, and let Lola keep her secrets.

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and her defiant reply, the vow The gym became part of her days too. Enzo’s laughter still echoed in her ears I could always just stop to make herself strong enough to outlast him. Three mornings a week she found herself downstairs, legs burning on machines, muscles shaking through free weights. The trainers didn’t ask questions. She showed up, sweat, left. And every time, she swore she heard Enzo’s smug voice in her head.

And then there was the shop. Lola had thrown herself back into it with a vengeance. Fourteen–hour days weren’t unusual as she clawed her schedule back into order, making up for every client she’d had to shuffle during the chaos. She was exhausted most nights, stumbling home ink–stained and sore but Enzo was always waiting. With food, with water, with hands that kneaded her feet until she stopped grumbling. Sometimes with silence. Sometimes with fire. Always with love.

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It was a strange kind of peace. Messy, demanding, laced with danger on every edge – but peace all the same.

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And now? San Diego was next. Another expo. Another chance to step into the spotlight, even if she pretended it was just work. This time she’d fly. Enzo couldn’t go, but Nico, Dom, and six of his men would. She’d rolled her eyes at the overkill, but part of her liked it knowing she was watched, wanted, tethered.

The kitchen smelled like garlic, olive oil, and the kind of comfort only carbs could deliver. Lola stood at the stove, stirring sauce in one pan and checking the sizzling chicken in another, crop top hanging off one shoulder and yoga pants painted to her skin. She’d tied her hair back in a messy knot, barefoot on cool tile, humming under her breath.

She didn’t even hear Nico come in until his voice rasped behind her.

“Damn it, Lola.”

She jumped, spatula clattering against the pan. “Jesus, Nico–announce yourself or you’re getting a bell!”

But he didn’t apologize. He just leaned against the counter, eyes dragging shamelessly down her frame. “It should be illegal for you to wear yoga pants.”

Her brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You already had a great ass before,” he said matter–of–factly, like he was commenting on the weather. His hand slid over her hip, bold and unhurried, giving her cheek a squeeze. “But now that you’ve been working out-”

SMACK

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