Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Molly
“I did something,” I confess the nanosecond Ramona opens her front door.
“Don’t tease me.” She beckons me in with impatient hands. She’s still wearing her scrubs from work and has half of her dark braids arranged around the top of her head like a crown. When I start to speak, she shushes me. “Something tells me we need wine for this conversation. At least I hope so.”
Once we’re settled on the overstuffed couch in her living room, I’m finally permitted to share. “I agreed to go out on a date with the hockey player.”
“Praise Jesus.” Her eyes go to the ceiling. Ever since I filled Ramona in on everything from the kiss and the dating app snafu to Bobby showing up for Matty the other day, she’s been firmly on Team Bobby.
Figuring I have nothing to lose, I decide to share every last detail. “And I sent him a half-naked selfie.” I bite my lip and brace.
Ramona almost spills her Pinot Grigio on a throw pillow. “Shut the front door!” Good thing we opted for white.
I laugh and take a fortifying sip. “I honestly have no idea what’s come over me, Ramona. We’ve been texting nonstop since he left town, and I’m starting to feel so...emboldened!” Who knew I could still flirt?
Bobby texting me that picture of him reading a relationship advice book was the straw that broke the camel’s back and had me agreeing to a date. Although, I’ll admit him opening up to me over the previous days’ texts was probably enough. He’s turning out to be so much more than I thought.
At this point, I can perfectly picture his poor mother surrounded by a gaggle of rowdy boys and pulling her hair out while his dad tried laying down the law. If Bobby’s brothers are anything like him, their childhood home must have been filled with energy and humor.
He’s just so thoughtful, not to mention funny and enthusiastic—and completely self-deprecating, which he must know makes me more comfortable letting my guard down. I even started telling him a bit about my childhood in return, something I don’t usually talk about much.
We’ve texted about everything from his craziest hockey moments and his therapist to my path to Farnsworth Realty and my obsession with the nearly impossible to find key lime Twizzlers.
And then there’s the genuine interest he appears to have in both me and Matty. Although, I’m hesitant to let Matty in on whatever this is between Bobby and me. He’s finally started opening up a little, and I’d hate for him to get his hopes up about anything real happening with the man he clearly looks up to. Especially when this could crash and burn so easily.
“I’ll tell you what’s come over you,” Ramona says, jarring me back to our conversation. “A man is finally worshipping the ground you walk on like every man should. You’re a ten, Molly, just like I’ve always told you.”
“To be fair, you didn’t know me when I had bangs in high school.”
“We all had bangs in high school. It’s a right of passage.” She sets her glass on the coffee table and focuses all her attention on me. “So, exactly how naked was this half-naked selfie?”
“All the important parts were covered.”
Ramona nods and points at me. “Ah, leaving things up to the imagination. Clever move.”
“I have no idea what I’m doing, but I finally just decided to throw caution to the wind and go on a date. How bad could I really be at dating, right? I mean, if Blake can date a man for the first time, I can date a straight man for the first time.”
“Aha! I knew meeting Blake’s new boyfriend would knock something loose.”
She’s right about that, of course. The other day, I dropped Matty off at Blake’s apartment for the week. I’d called him after my talk with Matty about Raiden so he’d be up to date, and he mentioned he’d like to introduce Matty to his new boyfriend this week. When he asked my thoughts, I was at a loss since I didn’t know how serious he and this guy were. But, in the end, I trust Blake, and I know he’ll always put Matty first. That turned out to be the right move since Matty texted me this afternoon in good spirits and said he’s having a great time.
What I didn’t expect was to meet the boyfriend myself when I dropped Matty off. Blake pulled me aside and apologized for blindsiding me. Apparently, he and Luke, the boyfriend, got their signals crossed and Luke wasn’t meant to be there when we arrived. It was probably better that way, anyway, though. Matty wasn’t fazed at all, and I didn’t have time to obsess or worry over the first meeting. Luke turned out to be really gracious and sweet.
But seeing the way he and Blake interacted left me full of all sorts of feelings. Their unconscious gestures of affection—a hand on the small of the back or a warm private smile—just further highlighted how very off my relationship with Blake had been. How forced it was by the end. Blake and Luke are clearly deeply in like, if not love, and I left the apartment with a sense of emptiness I haven’t felt in a while.
I sigh and run my finger over the base of my wineglass. “I just...didn’t expect it to make me feel so lonely.”
Ramona tilts her head and sinks back into a cushion. “I think that makes perfect sense, babe. I mean, if Amir started dating someone, it would depress the hell out of me.”
I choke out a laugh. “Ramona! You’re still married to him and madly in love. It’s hardly the same.”
“Madly in love, my ass. I told you he ate my Chinese leftovers!”
“You’re still mad at me about that?” Amir appears around the corner dressed in shorts and a form-fitting T-shirt. What is it with all these men and their pectorals on display?
Ramona purses her lips. “It was shrimp dumplings , Amir. It’s gonna take more than six hours for me to get over it.”
I take a sip of wine and smile up at my neighbor. “Hey, Amir, what is your love language?”
He dips his chin and looks at me like I just asked him to be my sperm donor. “My what language?”
“Never mind.”
“Mine is food, obviously.” Ramona glares at her husband. “Shrimp dumplings, in particular.”
“I don’t think that’s one of the options,” I inform my friend.
“Well, it should be.”
Amir puts in a set of earbuds. Smart move. “I’m going for my run. Good luck, Molly.”
Once he’s out of earshot, I ask, “How long are you going to make him suffer?”
“Probably just a couple more hours.” Ramona leans forward and snatches up her wine glass again. “Okay, so, back to your date with the young stud. Are we going for hot fling or potential relationship?”
I throw a palm out to her. “I have no idea. I can’t think about that yet.” But I drop my hand to the couch and ask, “It’s crazy to consider actually dating a guy so much younger, isn’t it?”
Even if he’s starting to check all the boxes.
“I don’t know. They say women and men reach their sexual peaks years apart, so it might be perfect. But you’re probably right. Don’t think about it too hard and just enjoy yourself.”
“Every time I think about actually dating, my sweat glands go into overdrive. I haven’t been naked in front of any man but Blake for seventeen years . You’ve seen Bobby. His body is like a marble statue. Mine is like...a child’s Play-Doh version.”
My words have Ramona rocketing forward in her seat, spine straight as board. “I know what you need! Do you trust me?”
Her maniacal expression has me draining my wine glass. “No. Not even a little.”
“Why is he looking at me like that?” I mutter surreptitiously out of the side of my mouth.
Ramona and I watch the tall man with zero visible pores and immaculate head-to-toe black clothing in the mirror. He’s eyeing me like a science project gone wrong.
“I think he’s evaluating your bone structure to determine the right haircut,” Ramona whispers.
My eyes go wide. “I think there’s been a mistake!” I spin my chair to face Ramona where she stands beside me. “You said makeover , not haircut!”
She throws her hands up. “A haircut is part of a makeover. Have you never seen Oprah?”
“Ramona, my date is tonight ! I don’t have time for makeup and a haircut, even if I wanted one. I haven’t even picked out my outfit yet!”
“I’ve got that covered, I told you.”
The man, who introduced himself as Lars a few brief minutes ago, runs an index finger over my ponytail and interrupts, “The hairpiece is tragic.”
I meet his eyes in the mirror. “It’s worse without it, I assure you. Can we just skip to the makeup?”
He purses his lips and studies my face again. “Am I permitted to address the unibrow or is that off limits too?”
I gasp and bring a hand up to cover my forehead. “I don’t have a unibrow!”
Ramona drops a hand onto my shoulder and bends down. “Molls, you may have gotten a little lazy with the tweezers. Let the man work.”
I drop my hand to my lap and scowl. “It’s probably my eyesight. It keeps getting worse every year.” I shoot my gaze to Lars again. “Fine, do what you must.” I throw up a finger. “But no haircut.”
Twenty minutes later, I’ve completely given up and decided to let Lars and Ramona have their way with me. It’s much easier this way, and besides, Bobby is texting me.
Bobby: Our flight is getting in a little early. You mind if I come at six-thirty instead of seven?
Me: It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, but even I know a guy can’t show up early.
Bobby: Then I’ll try to amuse myself until seven. You sell any houses since this morning?
Me: No, but I finally got my commission check from my toughest sale yet. Cocktails on me tonight!
Bobby: Congrats! But I’ll be paying for the cocktails.
Me: We’ll see.
Bobby: What are you up to right now?
Since there’s no way I’m telling him I’m getting a makeover, I fudge a little.
Me: Hanging out with my friend Ramona. You know, girl stuff.
Bobby: Ah. In other words, I should mind my own business?
Me: Ha! Maybe.
Bobby: Okay, I’ll let you go. I’ve got some guy stuff to do anyway. Can’t wait to see you tonight.
I grin down at my phone just as Lars spins my chair back around. When I look up into the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. My hair has been styled into soft waves that disguise my thinning areas, and my makeup is a couple notches above what I’d normally do while still managing to look natural and effortless. Lars’s deft hand has made my eyes look huge, and I somehow have the cheekbones of a Hollywood starlet.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Ramona declares. I meet her eyes in the mirror and laugh. My laugh turns into a coughing fit, however, when she continues with, “Time for your waxing appointment. That kitty’s not gonna strip itself!”