Thank You, Next (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection #9)

Chapter 12

Molly watched as the ball Ben released rolled smoothly down the alley and clattered into the pins.

She didn’t need to look at the scattered pins to know he’d knocked them all over. Again. She just had to look at his smug face.

‘It’s hardly an important life skill,’ she muttered as she squeezed her fingers into another ball. ‘Seriously, why do they assume women have such tiny digits? No wonder you’re winning. The heavy balls are so much easier to get hold of.’ A muffled exclamation followed her statement and when she slid Ben a look she found him creased at the waist, his shoulders heaving up and down. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Nothing.’ He straightened, but the corner of his mouth twitched and humour didn’t just dance across his face, it positively jived across it.

Damn, she’d forgotten how breathtaking he looked when he was relaxed.

Frustrated, she shoved her hands on her hips. ‘Come on, out with it.’

She watched as he visibly tried to straighten his features. ‘I just wondered, as you’re such an expert at handling heavy balls, if you wanted to have a go at handling mine.’

She huffed as she lugged the ball – the bowling ball – off the rack, refusing to be amused by him. Or charmed by the way his silent laughter lit up his face. ‘Now you discover a sense of humour huh? Shame that sort of smutty innuendo is more fitting for a playground.’

He nodded. ‘You’re right. My apologies.’

But his eyes still twinkled, and damn, if he didn’t look even more gorgeous because of it.

Resolutely she turned away from him and stomped to the foul line where she threw the ball down the alley.

It swerved straight into the gutter. Of course it bloody did. ‘This is a stupid game.’

‘Absolutely,’ he agreed, a smile still playing around his mouth. ‘A game meant for people with skinny fingers. Or who can hold heavy balls.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘If you’re trying to be cute, it’s not working.’

‘No. I don’t suppose cute was ever a look I managed.’ His smile faded. ‘But I did use to make you laugh.’

There was no point lying. ‘Yeah, you did.’

Around them she could hear the clatter of balls, the yelp of those who’d managed a strike, the laughter of other couples as they enjoyed themselves. But silence descended between her and Ben. ‘I don’t want to remember how things were between us,’ she said finally.

‘Why not?’

‘Because then I might be tempted to have all that again.’

Surprise flickered across his face and he took a step towards her. Then another until he was right up in her personal space, staring down into her eyes. Slowly his right hand reached up to cup her face. ‘You can have it again. We both can.’

His thumb gently traced over her cheek and her heart went into overdrive, thumping against her ribs. This wasn’t bloody fair. She didn’t want to still have this reaction to him. She didn’t want the butterflies in her belly to swoop as those hazel eyes searched hers. ‘No, we can’t,’ she whispered. ‘Because I know how it ends.’ With a huge effort of will, she stepped away from his powerful force field.

He exhaled heavily, raking a hand through his short, cropped hair. It had been longer when she’d dated him. Long enough for her to bury her fingers in when they’d kissed. This short style looked more … business-like. Sharper, to match his chiselled jaw and those striking cheekbones.

‘You don’t know how it ends.’ There was a rough edge to his voice that sent the butterflies flapping again. ‘We’d be starting from a totally different place.’

‘Just because the route we take might be different, doesn’t mean the outcome will be.’ Unsettled, she went to sit down. ‘It’s your turn again. You can show the viewers your bowling prowess,’ she added, waving towards the camera crew who’d started to film them.

Ben didn’t even glance their way. ‘Why don’t I show you how to bowl, instead?’

She eyed him dubiously. ‘You just want an excuse to show off.’

He smiled. ‘Nope. I want to make sure next time you go ten-pin bowling, you don’t end up making tacky jokes about heavy balls.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve changed my mind. You never made me laugh.’ He continued to stare at her, his mouth curving in a bewitching little smile, and her own traitorous mouth smiled back at him. ‘Okay, fine. Show me your secrets, oh ten-pin bowling maestro.’

‘First rule, choose the right ball.’ With a gentle hand to her lower back, he eased her towards the ball rack.

‘This is where we started,’ she grumbled. Then felt the breath from his laughter as it tickled the back of her neck.

‘Those heavy balls you can easily get hold of? The holes are too big for you. Try sliding your fingers into here.’ He took her hand in his warm palm and placed it on one of the medium-weighted balls.

Suddenly she felt surrounded by him. A wall of solid heat behind her, his hand over hers, her bum nestled far too comfortably against his groin. Arousal pumped through her and she bit down on her lip to stop a groan escaping. This might be good for the cameras, for Duncan if he was looking, but it wasn’t good for her. ‘Sounds like more innuendo to me.’ She jerked her head round to stare at him, but he wasn’t laughing. He was gazing at her with a smouldering intensity that woke all her hormones.

It was an intensity she remembered all too vividly.

He was as aroused as she was.

‘So, umm.’ Jerkily she stuffed her fingers into the holes of the bowling ball. ‘This is fine.’

‘Are they a snug fit?’ His voice, sexy enough ordinarily, had slipped down an octave and resonated through her like a rough palm sliding over sensitive skin.

‘Yes.’ Aggh, she sounded all scratchy. Clearing her throat, she tried again. ‘It feels good.’

She groaned inwardly at her choice of words.

‘It does, doesn’t it,’ he whispered. Then to her relief – and fine, okay, her disappointment, too – he moved away. ‘Now we have you holding the right ball, we need to get you in the right position.’ This time amusement glimmered in his eyes, along with the heat.

‘How long have you been working on that line?’

‘What line?’ He smirked. ‘Wait till I tell you to roll the balls, using a specialist grip. And focus on a consistent release.’

‘Oh God, stop, please.’ How easy it would be to slip back into old ways, seeing him not as the enemy, but as a hugely attractive guy who made her laugh and want to kiss him. Sliding the ball back onto the rack, she made a decision. ‘How about we ditch the bowling and get a beer and some wings instead?’

* * *

The moment she said the words, Ben saw Molly’s face crumple. Then she shook herself and bent to pick up her jacket. ‘I meant let’s get a drink and some food. Whatever you want to order.’

‘Beer and wings sounds great.’ As they walked towards the bar, he gave her a knowing look. ‘We always used to enjoy it, as I recall.’

‘That was the old me.’ Avoiding his eyes, she strode towards the bar. ‘The new me will stick to … sparkling water.’

‘You’re sure about that?’ He watched as she glanced over his shoulder. Turning to follow her gaze, he saw she was staring at Duncan, who was hauling the heaviest ball off the rack, no surprise there. ‘Please don’t tell me Duncan is why you’re refusing the ultimate combination of beer and wings.’

‘Of course not. I realise how bad greasy food and alcohol is for my body.’

‘I see. That’s why you threw your champagne at me.’

She gave him a withering glance. ‘No, that was because I wanted to see you squirm as it rolled down your face and left a sticky mess.’

Turning away from him, she gave the woman behind the bar her water order. He quickly added his beer and a sharing platter of wings before handing over his card.

‘That’s a lot of wings for one man,’ she remarked when the platter arrived an impressive few minutes later.

‘Figured you might change your mind when you saw them.’ He dived in, making a show of groaning as the BBQ sauce hit his taste buds. ‘Then again, you’re better off sticking to the water. These are awful.’ He licked his lips and reached for another one. ‘Definitely awful.’

‘Don’t think I’m not aware what you’re doing,’ she grumbled.

As if there was some sort of magnet attached to the man, her eyes once again darted towards Duncan, who was lining up to take his shot. Had he shrunk all his clothes, or did he deliberately buy a size too small to show off his physique? ‘What do you see when you look at him?’

Her eyes blinked in surprise. ‘Aside from a really fit, handsome guy?’

‘You see fit and handsome, I see a man about to rip his trousers,’ he countered. ‘But yes, aside from his looks.’

‘He’s attentive, not afraid to show his feelings. Or talk about them,’ she added pointedly.

The barb pierced and pain radiated throughout his chest. He was bad at communicating. He got it. He should have learnt from his experience with Helena, but his feelings had been still too raw when he’d met Molly, and the thought of exposing them when he already felt emotionally battered, had seemed too dangerous. ‘Anything else?’

She pursed her lips. ‘Let me think. Duncan’s thoughtful.’

‘So thoughtful he broke off with you so he could come on this show?’

She gave him a hard glare. ‘At least I knew why he broke off with me. He didn’t just give me some lame line.’

‘Lame line?’ It felt as if she’d slapped him. He couldn’t remember much about that time in his life – aside from two glorious months with Molly. It had all hurt too much. But he could remember trying desperately to find the right words to make sure she understood the fault was all on his side.

‘You do realise “it’s not you it’s me” is a cliché for a reason?’

‘That’s not what I said,’ he retorted, stung.

‘Okay, I’m paraphrasing, but the result is the same.’ When she raised her eyes to his, he was horrified to see they glistened with tears. ‘You made me feel important, Ben. Then you dumped me.’

He was tired of hearing this version of what happened. ‘Did I?’ he replied tightly. ‘I said I thought you were amazing but it wasn’t the right time for me.’ He exhaled heavily, memories of that awful day seeping their way back. ‘I also said I wanted to keep in touch. You ignored my messages.’ And boy had that hurt. Twice he’d messaged her in the following months. Twice the message had gone unread.

‘Why would I want to read a message from a guy who eviscerated me? Who made me feel stupid and worthless?’

Anger vied with guilt. ‘Because he never intended for you to feel that way. Because he wanted to stay connected with you for when it was the right time for him. For when he was ready.’ He leant back against his chair, trying to get his spinning emotions under control. ‘The way I see it, you were the one who walked out on me.’

To his astonishment, she started to laugh. ‘Oooh, that’s good, I like how you did that, twisting it all round so you’re suddenly the good guy.’

Okay, he wasn’t good. But was he really that fucking bad? He wanted to think he wasn’t, yet what was the point of arguing any further? She believed what she wanted to believe. And anyway, none of it mattered because she was in love with someone else. Restlessly he grabbed at another wing.

‘Did you really want to keep in touch?’

Her softly worded question made him pause. When he glanced up he found her watching him carefully. The vulnerability in her expression made his heart twist. ‘Yes.’ He made sure to look her straight in the eye. ‘The connection we had, you honestly believe I didn’t feel it too?’

‘I wasn’t sure,’ she answered quietly. ‘I mean I thought you did, but then you didn’t want to see me again, so I figured it was all me.’ Her gaze dropped to her glass. ‘It galls me to say these next three words but you were right when you said I give my heart away too freely.’ Slowly her eyes rose to meet his again. ‘I’m going to take your advice, and make sure the next time I give it away, it’s to someone who deserves it.’

‘Good.’ Because surely to God she didn’t really think the man who’d ditched her to go on a dating show deserved any part of her.

But do you?

His stomach rolled, and suddenly the plate of wings lost their appeal.

Molly regarded him silently as he cleaned his fingers on the wet wipes provided. ‘Is that all you’re eating?’

‘Seem to have lost my appetite.’

She nodded, but her gaze didn’t leave the platter. ‘Are they really as awful as you said?’

He schooled his expression. ‘Absolutely. Worst wings, ever.’

‘Maybe I could have one then.’

He had to stifle a groan as her teeth sank into her soft lower lip. ‘Sorry?’

‘All the tasty stuff in life is bad for us, yes? Chocolate, chips, salted peanuts, cheese, doughnuts…’

‘I’m following so far,’ he said dryly.

‘Okay, then by the same token, the awful tasting stuff should be good for us. Or at least it can’t be bad, can it?’

Keeping a straight face was becoming harder and harder. ‘Sure. If you say so.’

She reached out and tentatively picked up a wing, then, as if coming to a decision, demolished it in two bites, leaving BBQ sauce all round her mouth. ‘That tastes so bad.’

The desire to lick her lips clean was so strong he had to grip the chair to stop himself from jumping up. ‘I did warn you.’

She grabbed another wing. ‘I’ll need to have a few more, just to be sure.’

Instinctively he glanced over at the lane Duncan was in. When he saw the guy looking over and watching Molly devour the wings, Ben allowed himself a smug smile.