“I want to kiss you, Lola,” he says, and you’d think those words would shock me out of this daze. I hate this man. He’s an ass. He’s a jerk. He’s everything bad about the male species. But I really, really want him to kiss me. So . . . I nod. It’s a short nod, quick and concise, nearly imperceptible. But he sees it. I know he does because the next thing I know, his lips are on mine.
