Page 109 of Whatever Lola Wants

“Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t have an arrangement that included seeing other people.”

“Ah.” Grant sipped his whiskey slowly, his pale gaze locked on Simon. And waited.

Simon gritted his teeth. “I was up front with her about wanting to find a submissive partner. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.”

Grant nodded. “You told her, straight out, that while you were seeing her—playing with her, fucking her, sleeping in her bed six days out of seven—you’d also be looking for the perfect submissive. And when you found her, she’d just have to step aside. And she had the nerve to get mad.” Grant shook his head. “Women.”

Simon scowled. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I’m rubber and you’re glue.”

The childish taunt was the final straw. “You want to hear me say I fucked up? Fine. I fucked up. I hurt her feelings, screwed up our friendship, and I’m pretty sure your bride is going to stab me at some point this weekend.”

“Actually, I think she borrowed Ginger’s stun gun.” Grant grinned at Simon’s narrow-eyed look. “Yeah, I heard about that, and at some point in the future, I’m going to give you a whole lot of shit over it. But not right now, since it’d feel like kicking a wounded puppy, and I want to enjoy it.”

Simon winced. “I must be pitiful if you’re holding back on that.”

“Oh, you’re more than pitiful, son. You’re pathetic.” Grant gestured with his glass. “You tossed away a woman who not only fucked your brains out, but made you laugh. So, she wasn’t submissive. The play obviously worked, right?”

“She let me punish her,” Simon suddenly remembered.

“She’s likes play punishment?”

Simon shook his head. “She fucked up in a scene—forgot to eat before, crashed hard—and when I told her I’d paddle her ass for it if she were my submissive, she told me to do it.”

“Seriously?” A whisper of a grin flitted over Grant’s face. “She gave you permission to punish her?”

“I thought she was joking, but she said even though we didn’t have a D/s relationship, she’d still fucked up. She felt a physical consequence would be the best way to move past both her guilt and my anger.”

“Was she right?”

He remembered how angry he’d been at her, how the punishment had allowed him to put it aside. And how, even though her eyes had been full of tears, she’d looked at him with relief when it was done. “Yeah.”

Grant shook his head in wonder. “That’s a hell of a woman you threw away. Can I ask you a question?”

Simon sat back, weary to the bone. “Go ahead.”

“What exactly have you been doing with Lola for the last month?”

Simon frowned. “I don't know what you mean.”

“I mean, if you knew you didn’t want her—and that’s what you’re saying, right? She’s not what you want?”

Simon nodded, ignoring the hollow feeling in his gut.

“Then what was it all for? You spent a month together, not just playing and fucking, but dating. You took her to baseball games, cooked her breakfast. You took care of her after the accident, and not like a pal or a fuck buddy, but like a lover. A partner. You did all that for a woman who was what? A place holder, someone to fill the void until the real thing came along?”

“She’s not a fucking place holder,” Simon growled.

“No, she’s not,” Grant said quietly. “So, what was she?”

“Fuck.” Simon slumped against the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

“You know, Anna and Ginger spent some time with Lola last Sunday, and Anna said Ginger had an interesting relationship theory.”

Simon closed his eyes and resigned himself to listening.

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