Lola
The skyline stretched, sun bleeding in from the edges–burnt orange and blood-
gold, cutting shadows between towers and hills. Wind slid across her skin, dry and thin and fast, as if the whole world was racing toward something.
She took a sip. Black. Hot. Bitter enough to bite.
I don’t know what this is yet.
But I know I want to protect it.
The idea settled in her chest, heavy and humming.
She wasn’t trying to get involved. But maybe this was different.
This wasn’t about climbing into his world.
It was about keeping him in hers.
Because whether she was ready to admit it out loud or not-
She liked waking up beside him.
She didn’t want that to stop.
Maybe she couldn’t control the chaos ahead.
But she could try to outmaneuver it.
The door clicked softly behind her.
Footsteps.
Not heavy, but purposeful.
And just like that–she wasn’t alone.
Lola didn’t turn around.
The sun hadn’t even cracked the edge of the horizon yet, but the sky was already that sleepy watercolor blue. Her coffee mug was warm in her hands, steam curli ng up in lazy ribbons. The desert air felt crisp against her skin.
“Figures you’d be up,” Gino said, barefoot and hoodie–clad like he owned the place. Which, technically, he kinda did-
one of the crew suítes on the floor below was his permanent crash pad.
She grunted. “You’re not usually a sunrise guy.”
He shrugged, stepping up beside her. “Felt like one today. Plus, Marco was snoring like a war crime.”
She smiled into her mug. “So romantic.”
They stood in silence for a few moments. Then Gino leaned his elbows on the railing, glancing over at her.
“You good?”
1/4
Lola hesitated. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
He didn’t push, just nodded and waited, like he could feel the words building.
“I know this isn’t my world,” she said softly. “And I’m not trying to make it mine. I don’t want to be… whatever the hell women in these stories usually are. I don ‘t want to run shit. I just…”
She paused. Swallowed.
“I like him.”
It came out simple. Bare.
“I like waking up next to him. I like knowing he’s okay. And I hate that he walks into danger like it’s just part of the morning routine. I hate that I don’t know if I ‘ll get another one of these.”
She stared at the horizon for a long second.
“…And I don’t trust anyone else to keep him safe. Not really. Not long–term.”
It slipped out in a rush, like a confession she hadn’t meant to make–especially not to Gino, of all people.
Lola blinked, surprised by her own voice. “…Well. That’s horrifying.”
Gino didn’t say a word. Just leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and waited.
She huffed out a laugh, more breath than sound. “It’s just-
he wasn’t even on my radar, okay? Not a blip. I didn’t see him coming. Hell, I wasn’t even thinking about anyone, I’ve been in this tight, post- breakup tunnel vision–just trying to keep my job, not kill anyone, maybe remember to eat vegetables.”
“And then he shows up. Or I show up with him. I don’t even know which direction it went.” Her mouth twitched. “But suddenly he’s in my bed and in my space an d I’m not spiraling. I’m actually… fine. Which is weird.”
She paused.
“No, I’m weird. Because it’s been a week. And already I feel like I’d tear the world in half if anyone tried to touch him.”
“He brings out this version of me that I didn’t know was still in there. The one who’s fearless. Focused. A little feral.”
Her eyes flicked to Gino, the morning light catching gold at the edges of her irises.
“She’s not softer. Not exactly. She’s just… unfiltered. Dangerous in a way I like.”
She let out a shaky breath and looked away.
“And I think I like me more when I’m with him. That’s the part that really fucks with my head.”
Gino stared at her for a long moment before raising his brows. “You’re in love.”
“Say that again and I’ll punt you off this balcony.”
“I’m just observing.”
Chapter 60
“You’re lucky I let you hear any of that,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. “This was not a group therapy invite.”
He held up both hands. “Hey. I’m honored. Like a therapist who didn’t even need a co–pay.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”
Gino tilted his head. “For being emotionally available at seven in the morning?”
She smirked into her mug. “Of course you do.”
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