You held your hand so close/And I just can't push you away/ I wished you could be my girl/But you're stuck in your a grown-up world.

The bed was far too soft to be his. This was Dallie’s first thought when he awoke. The second was that there seemed to be a body curled up to his side. Lola. Holy fuck, had last night actually happened? He pried one eye open. Yeah, it had definitely happened.

As Lola would say, that was just lovely. Somehow he managed to become another notch in her bedpost that was for sure. Seeing as the word commitment seemed to have a strange effect on her- the effect, of course, being that she seemed to choke on whatever was in her mouth at the time the word was spoken, printed or implied.

At least his theory had been proved wrong. The one that had said that Lola DuGrey would sleep with anyone before she slept with him. Though he almost wished she hadn’t. The consequences of this were going to be hell. He was permanently damned. Damned because come morning Lola would be her usual cold and icy self. Damned because she now knew he had a weakness for her that their antagonistic relationship had hid before.

Or was it known? He had known Lola for her entire life. Perhaps he could beat her at her own game. A taste of her own medicine. Hell, he’d do it for simple self-preservation. He wouldn’t let her shatter his heart. Not now. Not ever. When he had first discovered his feelings for her, he’d sworn never to get too deep in. Lola was Lola and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do to change that. Least of all him.

The only flaw in his plan to be cold and aloof was the slight fact that Lola DuGrey had the most vexing way of riling his temper. But he could keep that under control. He was sure of it. And a few slip-ups didn’t mean anything; even Lola herself had made some. Right now was a huge example of that.

He should leave the bed now. Leave her and make her wonder where the hell he was in the morning. But he couldn’t. He really didn’t want to leave. He liked the feeling of her warm body snuggled up to his. Her dark blonde hair splayed over his arm and onto her pillow. The essence of innocence that attached itself to her when she was sleeping. She didn’t snore; he supposed she was too refined for that. Plus he remembered that she had had her adenoids taken out nearly ten years ago that would have cured her of that habit. Though the little mewling sounds she made spontaneously throughout the night had been even better. And now it was official, he was utterly hopeless. Pathetic beyond reasoning.

This hold she held over him had to break. Starting now. He slipped from the bed silently, leaving the warmth of her bed for the coldness of his own.

Rebellion was an act Lola DuGrey was quite familiar with, though always personally done and not a’tall professionally. Unless it had to do with Dallie and the Franklin but that was just because pissing Dallie off was too damn fun. But she had to wonder what the school would do if she slipped into her silver Mercedes convertible and changed out of school uniform and into that nice white dress awaiting her in the trunk. They’d probably mind. Damn rules.

“Stop it, you’re killing the lettuce,” Pat Taggart warned as he sat down across from her.

She forced a smile for her ex-boyfriend. “Hello Pat.” Her grip didn’t ease up on the fork, so it was still digging into her salad.

Pat took the fork from her hand, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lola’s head snapped up, a look of guilt flashing in her eyes before quickly covering it up. “Bout what?”

“What the lettuce did to upset you?” He replied, studying her face closely. “You looked like you could use a nonsense conversation.”

A genuine smile lit her face this time, happy for the reprieve of her thoughts. And the awareness of the man sitting two tables behind her. “This lettuce? Well, he has proved to be most unsatisfactory.”

“Truly?” Pat used her fork to pick up a bite and brought to his mouth. “Oh. Cardboard.”

She shrugged. “Could be worse. At least it’s Italian cardboard.”

“How do you figure?”

“Italian dressing.”

“Oh my. Am I going to regret instigating this conversation?”

“You really should consider the consequences before speaking,” she reminded him, forcing her expression to turn grave. “What classes do you have after this?”

“AP Bio and then English Honors,” He replied, stealing some more of her salad.

“You want to—” Lola was cut off by the ringing of her phone. “Oh damn.” She answered it. “Hello darr-ling.”

“Hello daughter,” Her father’s warm voice came through.

“Daddy? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Tristan paused to give orders to his secretary. “Your grandfather came into town today.”

“Grandfather?” She asked, unable to keep the distaste out of her voice.

“No, the one you like.”

“Oh! Grandpapa,” This time she couldn’t hide the elation from her voice. “I didn’t know he was coming to town.”

“Neither did your mother, but he showed up on her doorstep this morning,” her father replied. “You up to bringing yourself and Dallas down there for supper tonight?”

“Are you afraid to be alone with Dallie?”

“No, I have a business dinner tonight.” Translation: date. “And I don’t want to leave him alone at the house. Are you afraid to be alone with Dallie?”

“I won’t be alone with him,” was her automatic reply. But she wasn’t afraid to be alone with him. Not at all.

“Lorelai?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure I can stand dragging the cowboy along. Especially if Grandpapa Chris is there.”

“Great,” Tristan told her. “Love you.”

“Love ya too,” She told him before hanging up. “Lovely.”