The Last Autograph (A Reluctant Kiss #3)

Chapter 35

35

The next morning, Molly lay in bed, mindlessly scrolling through her social media apps, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t get the image of Alexia’s SUV parked in Jake’s driveway out of her mind.

Despite her unease and disappointment at the time, Molly had quickly decided it was none of her business. She’d simply slowed to drive by and then carried on home, her heart pounding as she struggled to focus on the road ahead.

Sure, she and Jake had slept together and shared some good times, but no matter how much she might wish for it to be otherwise, that didn’t mean they were in the throes of a budding relationship. And under the circumstances, perhaps he didn’t need a complication like Molly in his life, especially considering his mother’s unrelenting disapproval.

Shitty love life!

She’d woken in the early hours—sheets tangled at the foot of her bed and her pillowcase damp—and lain awake until after four worrying about not only Alexia, the gossip queen, but also Ava, the mysterious third party.

The blame was entirely hers, of course, and there had never been a time over the past few days when Molly denied that fact. She’d not asked Jake about Ava before he left, and a whole level of guilt surfaced when she considered the consequences of being involved with an already taken man.

Earlier, she’d considered flicking him a text to apologize for her no-show but, after another thought, decided to let things lie for a bit. Whatever happened between them in the future, while they might never be lovers again, she was confident they’d always remain friends. Distant friends perhaps—the kind who think of each other occasionally and reminisce, sometimes with a hint of sadness, sometimes with a smile. But for now, with Alexia also hovering, it was time to pull back a bit.

Molly was just about to crawl out of bed and into the shower when her phone buzzed in her hand. Jake’s name sat at the top of the screen, but instead of answering it, she dropped it on the bed and made her way to the bathroom, where she failed to hear his second and third calls.

Afterward, as she listened to his terse voice message, an unease gnawed at her stomach. Then, the text messages started. Are you home safe? What happened to you last night? When can I see you? Molly, answer your phone!!!

Still wrapped in a towel and with her hair dripping wet, Molly replied: Home safe, big night, needed sleep.

Just like hers, Jake’s reply held no emotion, no terms of endearment or indication of what he wanted to discuss. It simply said we need to talk, followed by when and where, and not a single emoji to be seen.

She inhaled sharply for two beats then took a longer breath, but that sense of calm she expected failed to transpire, and as she stood in front of the mirror to dry her hair, Molly’s reflection betrayed her sadness.

Having reluctantly accepted his invitation, Molly parked in Jake’s driveway around five, a strong north-easterly asserting itself loudly through the trees as if calling Mother Nature to task.

It would be dark soon, so she grabbed her pink denim jacket from the back seat but didn’t put it on. And as she stood on his welcome mat with Alexia’s and Hazel’s words still loud and perfectly clear in her mind, just like yesterday and every day for the past few weeks, Molly wondered if she had the strength to deal with the two other women in Jake’s life right now.

Or at any stage.

And what about Ava? In the few times they’d spoken on FaceTime, he never once mentioned her. Never said she was still living in his apartment or defined their relationship status, and for Molly, that lack of detail wasn’t good enough.

She pushed the bell twice before Jake opened the door. With feet bare and wearing black sweatpants and a smoke-blue Henley pulled tightly across his chest, he smiled softly in greeting, but there was no contact between them. “You’re still alive then?”

“Yes, but not quite kicking after last night.”

Nodding as if he understood, Jake took her jacket and hung it on the stand inside the doorway, but as she followed him into the living room, the dull gloom of the evening intensified her sense of foreboding.

“Anyway, welcome home.” Molly perched on the edge of the sofa and watched as Jake poured two glasses of prosecco from the bottle on the counter. He handed her one before taking a seat in the chair opposite, a platter of cheese, olives, and bread between them.

“Thanks, but are you going to tell me what’s going on? I’ve been gone two weeks, and now, all of a sudden you’re unavailable.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know you’d caught an earlier flight. It was Mum’s birthday. I couldn’t just cancel my plans at the last minute.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you did.” Molly wanted to add, “in more ways than one,” but stopped the cliché by pressing her lips together. “Anyway, you said we needed to talk?”

Jake shifted in his seat, his expression serious—a stark contrast to other times they’d met at Silkwood Crescent, when they sat in front of the fire with wine and conversation flowing.

“You once mentioned that you loathed miscommunication. So, I want to tell you something.”

“Okay.” Molly stilled before sipping her wine. It was a little fruity for her taste but passable. Silence fell between them, but inside her head, the noise was deafening.

“Annabelle phoned me about the will. That must have been a tough call.”

She relaxed a little. “Not really. It’s the right thing to do.”

Jake nodded. “I don’t agree, but it’s not up to me, is it?”

A gust of wind blew across the deck and through an open window, the curtains billowing for attention. Jake rose from the sofa, pulled it shut, then turned to look at her. And as he stepped forward and sat as before, she wondered what was coming next.

“I spent some time with Ava while I was away.”

Molly gripped her glass tighter. “Yes, Alexia told me.”

“Alexia?” He frowned. “When was this?”

“She paid me a visit at work the other day.”

Jake’s mood shifted, and his earlier warning about Alexia surfaced. Tread carefully. “And you never thought to mention it?”

“Of course I did, but…”

He sighed. “What else did she tell you?”

Everything. “Nothing much.”

Jake set his glass on the coffee table and sat back, his gaze fixed on her while three artisan cheeses sat tempering on the platter. “I’ve told her to stay away from you.”

“Why, in case we compare notes?” The words escaped before she could censor them, and her regret was immediate.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

One hand lifted to his chin, and he stared her down. “You actually think I’m interested in Alexia? What’s brought this on?”

Molly pressed a hand to her chest as if that might slow her racing heart. “After our work dinner last night, I came by with my toothbrush. I saw her car parked in your driveway and?—”

“You assumed we were together? For shit’s sake, Molly. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because… we’ve never defined our relationship. Between Ava in France and Alexia here, I’m at the stage where I have no idea what’s going on.”

Jake stood, grabbed the bottle of wine from the kitchen counter, and topped up his glass. He took a sip. Turned to look at her. “It’s not like that, and you know it.”

“Do I? How long has she been in love with you, do you think?”

He scoffed. “Who, Alexia? She’s not in love with me. The only person she’s in love with is herself, and if you can’t see that, maybe you’re not the person I thought you were.”

“I guess I’m not then.”

Jake sat again—forward in his chair and glass clenched in a steady hand. “Look, Alexia called by yesterday evening to discuss Jesse’s will, and she was wasted. I gave her a ride into town, and that’s why her car was here. She picked it up this morning, and I haven’t seen her since. And I don’t want to. She’s a pain in the ass whose claim to fame is stirring shit. So, just to be clear, she means nothing to me.

“As for Ava. We were together for three years before she left me for someone more suitable, her words not mine, and for the past few weeks, she stayed in my apartment—not because we were together, but because she’d had a fight with her boyfriend, and she needed somewhere to stay. It’s over between us and has been for months. Are we still friends? Of course. You don’t just throw away three years of your life and pretend it never happened.”

“So why the big secret? When we talked, you never once mentioned her.”

“She didn’t want anyone to know where she was, and I respected that. But I never meant to keep it from you, which is why I’m telling you now.”

Molly wasn’t ready to let things go. She’d thought seeing him might calm her insecurities, but as it turned out, the opposite was true. “I also met with your mother the other day. Did she tell you?”

Jake puffed out an annoyed sigh. “For shit’s sake. No, she didn’t. Who instigated that?”

“She did.”

“And what did my mother have to say?”

“Quite a lot.” Molly hesitated. “But basically, in between a few saccharine lines to soften the blow, she believes I’m using you as a substitute for Jesse and called our relationship a sad little betrayal.” Molly stopped herself from repeating what Hazel had said about Ava. Some things were better left unsaid.

Jake cursed under his breath. “You can’t be serious. I wish you’d told me this sooner.”

“Why, so you could fight my battles for me? Look, I don’t want to come between you and your family. Your mother loves you, and she’s already lost one son. You can’t choose me over her, and I would never expect you to.”

“She doesn’t have to know we’re seeing each other.”

Molly inhaled sharply at the insensitivity of his suggestion. “I can’t believe you just said that. I’ve had more than my fair share of men behaving badly in my life, and that comment is just another to add to the very long list.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean?—”

“No, Jake. I can’t sit in the waiting room of your life while you struggle to find the right time to be with me… to take me out in public or introduce me to your friends.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted… for us to be private?”

“There’s a difference between private and secret, and I’m not prepared to be anyone’s secret, especially yours.”

He stood and paced the floor, his sadness almost palpable. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Molly measured her breath against her anger. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but sometimes, the situation called for it.

“I realize you’ve been struggling with your choices,” she said eventually, “and I don’t know how to help.”

“You help by just being here.”

“Maybe, but whichever way you look at it, us being together is messed up on so many levels, and unfortunately, people you’re close to keep reminding me of that fact every chance they get.” Molly picked up her bag from the floor and cradled it in her lap.

“You’re leaving?”

“I think it’s for the best, don’t you?”

They stood at the same time, Jake with his hands in his pockets and Molly slightly unsteady on her feet.

“So that’s it?” Jake asked. “You’re just going to walk away?”

“For now.”

“Well, to be clear, I don’t want this, Molly. Not at all.”

“So what do you want me to say?” she murmured. “That I’m strong enough to deal with your mother’s animosity? That it doesn’t hurt when Alexia’s friends look down their noses at me while she stirs her version of shit that you talked about? Or that I’ll turn a blind eye when you spend two weeks with your ex, and I’m the last to know? Because I’m not that girl, not even close, and right now, I need a little time.”

Jake held her gaze. “How much time?”

“I’m not sure.”

In the silence that followed, Molly stepped forward and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “I’ve never really considered myself an unhappy person yet here I am, feeling miserable because of a boy. I honestly thought I was over all that.”

“Hey, come here.” He gathered her closer and, as she rested her head on his shoulder, held on tight. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Will we?” She pulled back, her eyes misting with tears. “I don’t even know if that’s possible anymore.”

Molly wept silently as she drove home. She’d made a choice, and now, struggled with what that choice would mean for them both. She’d seen several sides of Jake Sinclair since getting to know him, some of which didn’t impress her much, but that didn’t mean the two of them weren’t suited.

However, there’d been way too many times in her younger life when she’d been miserable over a boy, and that was the last thing she wanted as she knocked on the back door of thirty.

She’d just walked inside when her text alert chimed. She went to hang up her jacket, then realized she’d left it at Jake’s. Shit.

Molly opened her phone.

CeCe: What’s up?

Molly: Nothing much. But I think my fling with Jake may have run its course.

CeCe: No way! So it’s over?

Molly: Yeah, maybe.

CeCe: But is it complete?

Molly: Complete? I really have no idea.

CeCe: Are you alone?

She looked up from her phone at the sound of her doorbell.

Molly: Not now. There’s someone here. Talk later.

Thinking it might be Jake, Molly ran her fingers through her hair before answering the door.

CeCe stood before her, a wide grin on her face and a container of ice cream in each hand.

Molly smiled and stepped back. “What’s all this?”

“I was driving past and figured you might need a treat. Besides, I had a huge lunch, and Luka’s playing touch rugby, so what’s a girl to do but have ice cream for dinner?”

“What would I do without you?”

“I have no idea. But it goes both ways.” CeCe grabbed two spoons from the kitchen. “Salted caramel or ambrosia?”

“Ambrosia.”

“So, what’s happening with you and Chef Sinclair?”

Molly flopped down on the sofa. “Where do I even start?”