Chapter 23
JOSHUA
“Fucking hell. You kept it,” I say, the words out of my mouth before I can even think about the consequences of saying them out loud. I didn’t even mean to speak, I was just so shocked that the words came out without me okaying it.
The words hang in the air, air that is now thick with something I hadn’t meant to bring into this moment.
Molly’s reaction to them is instant. Her body stiffens, and then she straightens up and pushes past me.
She gets her shirt off the floor and puts it on.
The warmth between us, the sexual tension that had been building, evaporates in an instant, replaced by something cold and filled with misery.
Fuck.
I didn’t mean to ruin the moment like that obviously.
I didn’t mean to say it like that, but the surprise had burst out of me before I could stop it.
I had assumed—wrongly, it seems—that what we had between us in Vegas was long forgotten, just a night of passion between two strangers, that she had brushed that night aside the same way I constantly try to convince myself that I have.
The whole time she has been working here, she has shown no signs of recognition.
Not a single glance that hinted at a memory, not a single moment that betrayed familiarity.
That was why I was so shocked to see the tattoo.
How could she not know me if she remembered the night fondly enough to keep the ink?
I can’t attempt to fathom all of this out now. For now, all I have to do is make things right with Molly. The last thing I wanted to do tonight is upset her.
“Molly,” I say. She shakes her head like she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say, but I need to know she’s ok. I step towards her and reach out and catch her wrist so she can’t run from me. “Are you ok?”
She smiles but it’s clearly forced. It doesn’t make her eyes sparkle like her real smile does.
"Yes, thank you. I’m fine. We got a little bit carried away there,” she says, and then she shakes her head. "I should … "
I don’t know how she was going to finish her sentence because she just stops talking mid-sentence.
I want to know, but it’s obvious she’s uncomfortable and I don’t want to push her.
I’ve already ruined tonight; I don’t have to make it worse.
Not knowing what else to do, I release Molly’s wrist. If she wants to go and sit in a different room, then I will be gutted, but I won’t try to stop her.
Molly doesn’t flee when I release her wrist. She doesn’t walk away at all, but her fingers clutch the edge of her blouse, and her eyes dart away from me, and I feel an unfamiliar tightness in my chest. I hate that she can’t even look at me.
I wish I had kept my mouth shut. Hell, I wish I had kept the stupid tattoo.
I didn’t want to push Molly, but I can’t stand this.
I have to at least try to make things right between us.
I take a breath and step closer to her, keeping my voice low, careful not to appear menacing.
"I didn’t mean to upset you Molly," I say.
“You haven’t,” she says.
“Right,” I reply. “Because you always look like this when you’re happy.”
I cringe inside as soon as the words leave my mouth. I’ve done it again. Spoken without thinking and now she will most definitely hate me. I look at her, expecting her to be glaring at me, but she’s not. She’s laughing. I dare to smile back at her.
“You always did have a way with words,” she says softly.
I don’t know what to say to that and I’m still on rocky ground, so I keep quiet and let her carry on when she’s ready.
"I’m not bothered by what you said about the tattoo. Honestly, I get why you removed yours and I get why you were surprised I didn’t,” she says. “That’s not why I was upset.”
“So, what was it?” I ask.
“When I first started working here, I thought you didn’t recognize me.
I was upset about it at first, but I figured I couldn’t hold it against you.
We had a one-night stand three years ago and I figured that if you do that a lot, maybe after a while they all fade into one," she says. Her voice is quiet, but there’s something firm underneath the whisper, something that carries weight.
“But then the way you blurted that out tonight, it told me that you did remember me. And the fact you knew me and didn’t acknowledge it is what hurt me. ”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I thought that was the way you wanted it, because you didn’t show any sign of recognizing me either.”
"I thought you didn’t know who I was. There was no way I was going to embarrass myself by explaining to you who I am,” she says.
“Yeah, I get that,” I say. “Honestly Molly, I would have spoken up, but I remembered the way you sneaked away from me the morning after our night together and I figured that you regretted it and the last thing I wanted to do was remind you of something you regretted.”
“I never regretted it,” she says quietly.
“Me neither,” I say. “And I’ll be honest, I have had my fair share of one-night stands when I was younger, and sometimes I guess they do all blur into one. But not you, because I never thought of you as a one-night stand. The only reason you were one is because of geography and circumstances.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and I curse myself for upsetting her further. I swallow, running my fingers through my hair. "Molly, I …"
She shakes her head and cuts me off.
"It’s fine, Joshua. Really." I love how my name sounds when she says it, but I don’t focus on that right now.
She obviously isn’t fine, and I go to speak, but she smiles and blinks away the tears, and she looks more like her usual self again, her smile reaching her eyes now. “I was just being a bit sentimental.”
The tears in her eyes weren’t because I had upset her. They were, maybe not tears of joy exactly, but tears carrying an emotion too big for her to hold inside of herself.
I feel like the danger of her bolting has passed now and I take another step toward her.
I’m not only shocked that she kept her tattoo, but now I’ve had time to process it, I’m glad she has kept it, glad she wanted to remember me, and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole for removing mine.
But in my defense, it’s not like I need a tattoo or anything else to remember Molly by.
I could never forget that girl, and believe me, for a long time after Vegas, I tried to.
"You kept it," I say.
Her eyes flick back to mine. She looks wary but she holds my gaze.
"Yeah, I did."
A slow smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, a desperate attempt to bring us back to something lighter.
"That must mean that you’re in love with me," I say.
Molly lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. Just the reaction I was hoping for.
"Not even close,” she tells me.
I put one hand on my heart and shake my head.
“I’m hurt,” I tell her, and she laughs some more.
“Suck it up, buttercup,” she says.
Each time she laughs, I can feel the tension that grew between us shifting just a little bit, and I push it further, my smirk deepening.
"I don’t believe you aren’t in love with me. Why else would you keep it?" I raise an eyebrow. "Don’t tell me. It’s for sentimental value? Or is it a reminder of the best night of your life?"
She rolls her eyes, but something in her expression softens.
"Actually, I kept it as a reminder that sometimes, I can be wild and sometimes, I can break the rules," she tells me.
Her words send a spark of heat straight through me. I step closer to her again, and this time, she doesn’t back away.
"And was that the only time you broke them?" I ask her.
“Well funnily enough, I did kiss my boss not so long ago, which I reckon might break a rule or two,” she says, and she smiles.
“It sounds like I’m a bad influence on you,” I say, and she nods her head.
“It does,” she agrees.
This time, it’s Molly that moves closer, filling the gap that remained between us. Her lips part slightly, her breath catching, and I know we’re back to where we were before I screwed it up. I reach for her, my fingers grazing her waist as I tilt my head down to kiss her.
"Maybe it’s time you break the rules again," I say. I’m so close to her that I feel her smile, her lips moving against mine.
She doesn’t answer, or least not with words, anyway. Instead, she presses her mouth to mine, her fingers curling into my shirt, and just like that, the fire between us reignites.