Page 43 of You, Me, and Lucky Number 13

I raise an eyebrow. “Thought that trophy was pretty clear.”

She rolls her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. “You know what I mean. Go-karts. You know I won.”

She didn’t win, but I’m curious where this is heading.

“What did you have in mind?” I ask, voice rougher than I intended.

Lola pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us. “Well, for starters, I think I should get to paint my bedroom.”

I blink, caught off guard. This isn’t where I pictured this conversation heading. Seems both of us are ignoring the elephant in the room. “Paint your bedroom?”

“Yeah,” she nods, eyes sparkling with mischief. “That sterile white you picked out? It’s depressing as hell. I’m thinking… pink.”

“Pink?” I choke out. “You want to paint your room pink?”

She shrugs, but there’s a challenge in her stance. “What’s wrong with pink?”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to wrap my head around this. “Nothing, I guess. Just… It’s my house, Lola.”

“And I live there, too,” she counters. “Or am I just a guest?”

The question hangs between us, loaded with meaning. My throat tightens.

“You know you’re not just a guest,” I say, my voice low.

She steps closer, close enough that I can smell her subtle perfume. “Then prove it. Let me make it feel like home.”

I swallow hard, caught in her gaze. “Pink, huh?”

Lola nods, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Pink.”

“Fuck,” I mutter. But I’m already caving, and we both know it. “Fine. But nothing too… you know.”

She laughs, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “Too what, Cole? Too girly?”

I grunt, not trusting myself to speak. She’s so close now, I can feel the heat radiating off her body.

“Don’t worry,” Lola says, her voice a husky whisper. “I’ll make sure you like it.”

The double meaning isn’t lost on me. My hands itch to reach for her, to close this final gap between us.

“Lola,” I start, not sure what I’m going to say.

But before I can figure it out, the back door bangs open. We jump apart like guilty teenagers.

“There you are!” Gene’s voice booms. “C’mon, they’re about to do a toast!”

Lola gives me a look that’s equal parts frustration and promise. “We’re not done talking about this,” she says, before following Gene inside.

I stay back for a moment, trying to get my racing heart under control. Pink bedroom. Fuck. What am I getting myself into?

But as I head back into the bar, all I can think is: if it makes her happy, it might just be worth it.

I step back into O’Malley’s, the wall of noise and heat hitting me like a freight train. My head’s still spinning from that moment outside with Lola.

“There he is!” Cam bellows. “The man of the hour!”

A beer appears in my hand as I’m pulled into the throng. Maria’s teetering on a chair, glass raised high.

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