Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Molly
“It’s not that funny,” I insist for the second time.
Ramona puts a finger up telling me to hold on a sec while she continues losing her absolute shit. I sigh and turn my attention to the sidewalk café around us. A few customers dart furtive glances our way—I mean, it does sound like Ramona might be choking on something, not that I’m that lucky—but the rest ignore us while my friend laughs her ass off at me.
“Oh,” she finally manages, “It absolutely is that funny, Molly. Or should I call you Mrs. Robinson?”
I knew I shouldn’t have confessed everything to Ramona, but since I’m due to see Bobby again in an hour, I was at my wit’s end.
“I’ve decided you’re no longer my best friend,” I respond as I lift my cardboard coffee cup to my lips. It’s a treat to go out for coffee, but this conversation warrants it. My mind was pretty much blown by that kiss with Bobby, and now I don’t know if I’m coming or going.
Ramona finally straightens in her seat and it only takes a few more sighs to tamp down her hilarity. “That’s probably earned. When you said Coco signed you up for a dating app, I should have known it was Catnip–and that you’d assume it was a dating app for cat ladies.”
“Thank you!” I nod. “You know I count on you for these things. I mean, if it weren’t for you, I would still think the acronym IYKYK literally means ‘Ick. Yuck.’”
“Oh.” She stirs a sugar packet into her coffee. “And don’t forget when you thought TBF was referring to my tuberculosis status. Why would I go around texting people about TB?”
“You’re a nurse!” I attempt to defend myself. “Honestly, what is it with everyone feeling the need to shorten everything? Use your words, people!”
“No offense, but you sound old when you say things like that,” she offers, straightening her glasses on her nose.
“I am old!” I remind her before dropping my voice low and leaning into the tiny café table. “Too old to date a twenty-eight-year-old beautiful hockey player, that’s for sure!”
Ramona snatches up her own cup and meets me halfway. “Who happens to like the fact that you’re old, you nasty cougar, you.”
“Seriously, Ramona, what am I supposed to do with this?” I gesture at our surroundings as if Bobby is sitting at the next table over.
“I guess that depends. How was the kiss?”
My cheeks instantly flame at the memory. And is it my imagination, or do I smell Bobby’s woodsy cologne mingling with the coffee aroma out here?
Ramona’s eyebrows spike. “That good?”
“Better.” I sigh. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been on the receiving end of another person’s complete and utter focus like that. I swear he was attuned to even my pulse during that kiss.” My eyes go unfocused and my nipples tighten as I recall the sensation of being wrapped up in Bobby like that. “He was all in, and I mean it. All. In. We both forgot where we were.” I fan myself at the memory.
“Damn.” There’s an almost reverent tone to Ramona’s response, and when I snap myself out of my Bobby fog, I see her across from me, chin propped on her hand and a goofy smile on her lips.
I can’t help my responding smile. “Yeah.”
Ramona pulls in a long breath and squares her shoulders. “Well, you clearly have to go for it.”
“Go for what?”
“Letting the hockey hottie put his focus on all your girl parts, that’s what.”
I frown at her. “You said, and I quote, ‘a pro athlete like him would eat me up and spit me out—and not in the good way.’”
She shoos me off. “Yeah, I changed my mind. I think it will be in the absolute best way.”
“Using Bobby Rhodes to scratch an itch or get my feet wet sounds like too much of a risk to me. I should start with someone...simpler. Like maybe a mailman or a nice accountant.”
Ramona points at me and scowls from behind her glasses. “Molly, an accountant isn’t going to inspire the look I just saw on your face.”
“How do you know?” I challenge, suddenly feeling protective of my imaginary accountant boyfriend.
“Because I have an accountant. His name is Bryce, and I guarantee you he couldn’t find your G-spot with advanced GPS technology and a sherpa at his side.”
Perhaps she has a point.
“But what would make a hot young professional hockey player go for somebody more than ten years older than him? And with a kid, no less? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Hey, don’t yuck someone else’s yum. People like what they like. I happen to think the man has excellent taste.” Ramona winks at me.
I can’t help smiling at her while also shaking my head. “Yeah, well, just the thought of ending up in bed with the man makes me break out in a nervous sweat.”
“We’ll have to work on that.”
I keep going over it in my head and coming to the same conclusion. In the Catnip chats, Bobby made it clear he was interested in this mystery colleague as more than a fling. Which means his attentions these past couple weeks haven’t just been some natural flirting reflex like I previously assumed. Catnip Bobby talked about me like he wanted...a relationship.
And that scares the shit out of me.
As if reading my thoughts, Ramona says, “He asked for a date, not your hand in marriage. What can it hurt?”
I don’t bother arguing anymore, not just because Ramona is impossible to sway but because I’m maybe kind of starting to like the idea.
The moment I spot Bobby by the bleachers at practice an hour later, I change my mind completely. He’s wearing skates and form-fitting jeans, his dirty-blond hair a tousled mess and his head thrown back in laughter at something a tall, glamorous black-haired woman just said to him. He’s turned fully into her where she leans against the bleacher rail and grins up at him. She has all his focus, and I suddenly feel like an idiot for thinking his focus on me at the house yesterday was something special. This is what he does—what he’s good at. Making women feel like they’re the center of his universe.
Ugh. What was I thinking?
I squeeze Matty’s shoulder and paste on a smile. “Go get your skates on, okay?”
“K.” He nods and runs off to join his new friend Eli where he waves at my son from down the bleachers.
Matty’s attitude is much improved today, and I know who’s responsible, even if I refuse to glance his way again. I don’t have time to waste crushing on unattainable men with stupidly charming dimples! My focus should be on my child’s emotional well-being and on earning enough money to put food on the table and clothes on our backs.
Matty deserves a mom who makes smart decisions and uses her time and resources wisely. The last thing I want is him growing up feeling insecure about his welfare like I did. Don’t get me wrong, my parents have always loved me, but you can’t eat love or sleep under its roof. And I refuse to ever let Matty question his own safety or well-being. It’s Blake’s and my job to provide those things and make that our top priority.
I suddenly feel ridiculous for slicking on a fresh coat of lipstick and curling my hair before bringing Matty here. I’ll just leave and pick him up when practice is over. There’s plenty of work I can get done on my company laptop using some fast-food joint’s Wi-Fi nearby, I’m sure.
I swing back toward the entrance and run smack into a firm chest. “Oh! Sorry!” I say as strong hands grip my biceps to steady me. But when I look up, my surprise turns to delight. “Blake!”
My ex grins down at me. “I see you still don’t watch where you’re going.”
All I can do is shrug. “Matty will be so happy you’re here. They’re doing a scrimmage today.” I turn to wave our kid down, but Blake stops me.
“Just a second.”
I shoot him a questioning gaze, but his eyes are scanning the practice facility. “Which one of these guys is Bobby Rhodes?”
I groan inwardly. I’m going to be forced to act like the mature adult I claim to be, aren’t I? Little could make this situation any more humiliating than having to introduce my gay ex-husband to the guy I just kissed—the same one who is currently flirting with his next conquest right in front of me. Where is that python siren when I need it?
As if sensing the mortification rolling off me in sonic waves, Bobby turns away from the raven-haired beauty and starts in our direction. They’ve probably already arranged a rendezvous later tonight at some club where rich, beautiful people bang. A glance at his face reveals an expression I haven’t seen before on him, and I can’t quite read it.
Blake stiffens next to me, and then his arm wraps around my shoulders, his palm pulling me into him so I’m all but cradled into his side. What in the world?
“Molly!” Bobby greets me with a smile, but it’s not the one that shows his dimples. This one is tight.
“Hi, Bobby,” I reply as he draws near. For a second, I think he’s going to lean in and kiss me, but instead, he stops short and sways back on his heels, his skates giving him at least an extra two inches in height.
Bobby’s eyes rake my face before he shifts them to Blake and thrusts out a hand. “Bobby Rhodes.”
Blake takes the offered hand and the two shake for what feels like an uncomfortably long time. “Blake Sparks,” Blake says in a tone that begins to sound a little strangled by the end. What is going on here? They finally release each other. “So, how do you know my wife?”
My head whips up as I stare dumbly at Blake, but he won’t meet my eyes. Before I can say anything, Bobby cuts in.
“I’m sorry. Don’t you mean ex -wife?”
“Six of one,” Blake inexplicably replies with a shrug. Six of one? Really? Since no one else is volunteering, I nominate myself as the adult in the room and turn to Bobby as I extricate myself from Blake’s grip.
“Bobby, this is Blake, Matthew’s father and my ex-husband. Blake, this is Bobby Rhodes, my client and one of the hockey instructors for the kids’ league.”
“Bobby,” Blake begins again. “Do you mind if I have a word with my wife in private?”
“ Ex -wife,” I correct. Has he taken a blow to the head while on the road?
“Not at all,” Bobby responds, reaching out to squeeze my bicep in a way-too-familiar gesture for current company. “We’ll talk later, Sparkle.” He winks at me, not giving Blake another glance before striding on his skates to the rink door.
Oh, for the love of god. Did these two men just metaphorically pee on me to stake their claim? Last I checked, one of them is gay, and the other was just securing a date with another woman right in front of me!
Before I can think of the appropriate words to express how idiotic Blake is being, he starts in on me with a whisper-hiss. “You didn’t tell me you were sleeping with the guy!”
I draw in a sharp gasp and glance around to make sure nobody heard him. Thankfully, no one is paying any attention to us, so I erase all but one inch of distance between us and bite back, “I’m not sleeping with him. Oh my god! What are you doing here? Spying on me? I thought you were here to see your son play hockey!”
“I am,” he retorts, each of us continuing in forceful whispers. “But I also wanted to make sure this guy mentoring Matty wasn’t some deviant. It didn’t occur to me that you’re the one who’d need looking out for instead of Matty.” His tone is accusing, and it has me grinding my molars together.
“I don’t need ‘looking out for,’ Blake.” I poke an index finger into his chest. “I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s none of your business if I’m seeing someone.”
“So you are sleeping with him.”
That’s it. I’m going to jail for murder. “No.” It takes all I’ve got to force levity into my tone. We’re in a public place, after all. “But that’s beside the point. I could if I wanted to, and it would be none of your business.”
Blake thrusts his fingers through his loose hair. “It’s my business who’s spending time with my wife and child.”
“I’m not your wife anymore, Blake!” My voice rises to the point where we both glance around this time. I immediately spot Bobby watching us from the rink. Great. I sigh and turn back to Blake.
“You know what I mean,” my ex says.
“No, I don’t. We don’t have that kind of relationship anymore. I decide what’s best for me now. I take care of myself and count on myself. Nobody else does that anymore.” Fuck. Why do I want to cry?
Blake looks wounded by my words. I’m usually so much more careful, but this day is kicking my ass. “You say that like I purposely abandoned you or something. You know that’s not what happened.”
“I know,” I sigh and take his hand in mine. It’s such a familiar hand, yet touching it brings not one tingle to my skin or kick to my heart rate. Again, my mind takes me back to that kiss with Bobby in the big Spanish-style kitchen where my entire body was alight. But I block it out. “I’m not blaming you. I’m just trying to explain that the stage of our relationship where you have a say in my personal decisions is over. When it comes to Matty, absolutely. But not me. Even if neither of us technically chose this path, this is where we are, and you’ve got to be okay with it.”
“Fuck.” Blake drops his head back with a heavy sigh. “I really screwed this up, didn’t I?”
My lips twitch. “Yeah, you did a pretty spectacular job, I’d say. I mean, what was with that pissing contest with you and Bobby?”
He shakes his head and shrugs, looking down at me again. “Reflex?”
I raise a finger. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Bobby flirts with everyone. I’m nothing special.”
Blake’s jaw tics, and I see him look over to the rink where I last saw Bobby. I refuse to follow his gaze, instead waiting for his attention to return to me. When it does, his tone is forceful. “Don’t you ever say that, Dollface. You are the definition of special, and don’t you forget it.”
Tears spring to my eyes and I will them away, but not before Blake sees them. He musters a smile and switches to casual. “Anyway, I really did just come back early to see you and Matty—and to tell you some news, but that can wait.”
“What news is that?” I’m as eager as he is to shove emotions aside.
“No, I already caused enough drama.”
I bat at his chest. “You know I’ll only worry if you don’t tell me.”
He grins at that. “It’s really not a big deal. I was just going to tell you that I started seeing someone.”
My eyes widen. “You did?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s early days but...” His eyes drop to his boots. “I don’t know. It just felt weird not sharing it with my best friend.”
“You know, you make it hard to stay mad at you,” I scold, warmth infusing my chest. “I’m happy for you.” And I am. This hasn’t been easy for any of us.
“I know I’m going to sound like a complete hypocrite, but I want you to find somebody too.” He cocks his head toward the rink. “Maybe not the guy who I’m pretty sure just broke my hand, but somebody.”
“Ha! Well, like I said, there’s no danger of that. He’s just a world-class flirt, nothing more.” Maybe if I keep repeating it, I’ll convince myself.
Blake drops both hands onto my shoulders and gives them a squeeze. “You deserve the best, Dollface. Don’t settle for less than someone who makes you the center of their universe.”
I fight a wince at his use of the exact phrase I thought of minutes ago when watching Bobby flirt with the beautiful woman.
“Yes, sir. Now, go say hi to your son.”
Blake gives me one last squeeze before jogging toward the bleachers and Matty. I watch Matty forget to act cool and instead jump into his dad’s arms. Then I pull my phone from my bag and bring up my text chat with Bobby.
Me: Thanks for asking, but I’m going to say no to the date.
Using every bit of restraint I can muster, I tuck my phone away and stride out the facility’s doors without looking back.