He wanted to talk to me just like I’d wanted him to go to Santa Cruz.
The words you can’t always get what you want were on the tip of my tongue, but my mind put the kibosh on that, countering, but deep down, you want Reed, and he wants to talk to you…
Obviously, my bitterness had yet to fade.
“Lola!” Miss Misty called toward me. “Are you about finished?”
God, Miss Misty was a pain in my ass. Couldn’t she see I had some serious adult shit going on over here?
“Just a minute!” I yelled over my shoulder and then turned back toward Reed. “Uh…I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“I can see that,” he responded without argument, but a little sadness crept into his eyes. “Are you free after this?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “And more than that, I’m not sure I want to talk to you. I told you I needed time.”
“Please, Lola,” he begged and pulled both of my hands into his. “I know you said you needed time, but I don’t like the way our conversation went the other day. I had so much to say, and like a fucking idiot, couldn’t figure out how to say it. I hope you’ll give me a second chance to explain. I just need five minutes of your time. Name the time and the place, and I’ll meet you, whenever, wherever.”
It was so unlike Reed to put the ball in my court. He never wanted to live by anyone else’s schedule but his own, and now, he was leaving it all up to me.
Something about the gesture broke through my fortifications. “Fine,” I agreed on a sigh. “I’m free tonight.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“Where?”
I thought about it for a second, and then gave the best answer I could on the fly. “Golden Gate Park.”
He nodded a soft, thankful smile. I tried not to notice the way it transformed his face and failed. Before I could turn on my skates and head back toward the center of the rink, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.
Lingering, right there, against my skin, he whispered, “See you tonight, Roller Skates.”
Golden Gate Park was one of those places everyone puts on their list to visit—and quite frankly, it wasn’t without reason.
The atmosphere was bustling and packed full of history completely unique to San Fran, and the microclimate was a thing within itself. It wasn’t that close to Lola or me, but as I pulled into the parking lot in my hardly ever used Corolla, I knew exactly why she’d chosen it.
We’d come there more than once to people watch and talk, and the Conservatory of Flowers was one of her favorite places inside its confines. She hadn’t said, but I knew that was where she would be.
I opened my trunk and took out the box with one of the weirdest gifts I’d ever gotten for someone and clutched it to my chest.
I was feeling a lot of things I wasn’t accustomed to—nerves, hope, and a threatening cloud of disappointment nearly as thick as the fog I knew would be here first thing tomorrow morning.
What would I do if we couldn’t find the words to understand each other?
I honestly wasn’t sure.
But I knew I couldn’t go back to the person I was before—at least not entirely.
Because Lola Sexton had done a real fucking bang-up job of teaching me it really was possible to walk through life not knowing you’re missing a goddamn thing—until the minute you find it.
Lola sat on a bench facing away from me, toward the flowers and steps in front of the greenhouse as I approached. It hadn’t taken me any time at all to find her in the crowd, hair now down in a curtain around her face. Gray Converse covered her feet in place of her roller skates, but she didn’t look any less interesting. Just like I’d known from the beginning—she stood out. And something about her called to me.
My unicorn.
A group of pigeons gathered at her feet, and I had to laugh at the perfect little picture fate had painted us.
I sat down carefully on the bench next to her and laid the box on top of my thighs. Two minutes passed without either of us saying anything.
Finally, Lola had enough. “Possibly two of the fucking chattiest people on the planet, and neither of us has anything to say?”
“I’ve got a lot to say, Lo.”
She shifted toward me and flapped out her hands. “Then say it.”
I gave a little laugh and smiled. But man, it didn’t feel all that happy. So much was riding on this conversation, and I knew neither of us could keep living in this limbo of torture much longer. We were either going to work things out or we weren’t, but this was probably the last chance. “I was just happy to be sitting next to you,” I told her honestly, the ache so deep from missing her, it had settled into my bones.