Doll Face(27)
I keep my gaze to the side, focusing on the windows instead of his face, but I can feel his smile like a pleasant warmth spreading across my skin. His fingers slide along my jaw and weave through my hair, tugging my head gently against his belly.
“Lola, I'd do anything to have you by my side, I hope you know that.” Ronnie pauses and takes a deep breath. “To tell you the truth, I'm scared.”
I pull away and look up at him as he drops his hands by his sides and gives me a sad smile.
“About what?” I ask, my voice as soft as the yellow sunshine on the carpet. This moment's getting emotional, and I don't do emotional particularly well. I swallow hard and close my eyes, taking a breath that mimics Ronnie's.
“My daughters. My parents. My life. Lola, I've been out of commission for a decade. The last ten years are nothing but fuzzy memories blurred into the sides of my brains. I haven't been sober since Asuka died, haven't even been coherent since Travis. I don't know how to be an adult, how to make decisions. Fuck, I don't even know how to function outside of the band.” I meet Ronnie's brown eyes and watch the flickering of pain that crashes through his irises. “But if you're here, with me, we can get through this. I know we can.”
I snort and try not to let him see that his emotional rambling is actually having an effect on me. For fuck's sake, this Hallmark greeting card shit makes me weepy. I run my hands down my face just so I can hide the slight shimmer of tears.
“There you go again,” I tell Ronnie, fingertips resting on my lips as I mumble at him, “giving me that intense drummer stare, that dedication that I don't deserve. I killed your daughters' mums. I don't even deserve to play that role.”
“Lola.” Ronnie's voice is firm now as he sits beside me and rests a hand on my knee. “You didn't pull the trigger, didn't set this whole mess up, didn't start a fucking war by murdering the biological father of your child and then fucking with the head of the sociopath who raised him. To me, you're as much a victim here as anyone.” I shake my head, but Ronnie's having none of my shit today. “For the last few weeks, I've watched you spiral down into a depression that I recognize far too well. I've been intimate with despair for a good third of my life.” He reaches out and takes my hands in his, running his thumbs over my knuckles. “Let's make today day one of our new life. I can't say for sure that all this shit is behind us, and I know you're not going to just forget your sister ever existed, but I think if we try really fucking hard, we can make shit happen.”
I bite my tongue to keep the fucking monster monsoon of tears at bay and turn towards Ronnie, leaning in for a kiss that pleases more than just the bits down under, but makes my heart shiver a little. Am I afraid? Fuck yes, I'm bloody Goddamn terrified. But I'm also excited. It's a small spark, but like that sprout of love I feel for Ronnie in my heart, I know if I fan this one, I can turn it into a raging flame.
I snuggle closer and pause as the door bursts open and Turner Campbell appears, hands on his hips, chin raised in defiant glee. Fucking fuck. If we have to live with this asshole, we're getting triple locks on our door and a Do Not Disturb sign written in blood.
“Get your shit together. We're meeting the owner of the house we just bought. She's giving us the keys and letting us live there until closing. Only thing we have to pay her with are some autographs and shit.” Turner snaps his fingers. “Hop to it, bitches. This shit is prompt. Get ready and don't skimp on the eyeliner.” Turner slams the door behind him while Ronnie and I exchange another look.
“Beverly Hills, huh?” I ask and Ronnie sighs, but not like he's upset, just … anxious. We all are, I think. “Everyone's going to think I'm away with the pixies when I tell them where I'm living.”
“Do you have any idea how much the mortgage payment on this baby's going to be?” Ronnie asks and I raise an eyebrow. “It's five digits long, I'll tell you that much.” He shakes his head and chuckles, rising to his feet and moving to the window. When Ronnie glances over his shoulder at me, he's smiling. “Somehow, I have a good feeling about this though. I don't know how or why, but I've been numb to my senses for too long. I think that this time, I'm going to listen.”
“I think that sounds like a good idea, Ronnie,” I say, pushing myself to my feet and closing my eyes against a wave of dizziness. I move over to stand next to him and stare out at the bustling nightmare that is Los Angeles. We're a long way from fucking Giru, Queensland, aren't we? I curl my fingers around the windowsill as a thought comes to mind. “Fuck a duck,” I growl as my nails dig into the white paint. Ronnie glances over at me and I look back at him. “When I came to the states, I just said I was here on holiday.”