Chapter 13 #2
Hugs from Harper are rare. I know she doesn’t always love them—or touch in general—so it feels like a special gift just for me. I spend almost a full minute just enjoying the warm security of both of them surrounding me.
Even with the sweat, it’s totally worth it.
Then, I notice some movement and stiffen. “Harper—are you grabbing my brother’s butt right now in the middle of this group hug?” I ask, wiggling out from between them.
Harper jumps back. “What? No!”
But her flushed cheeks and Chase’s wide grin tell a different story. Especially when he tugs Harper into his chest and nuzzles the side of her neck. “We’re married,” he says. “Married people kiss. And other things.”
“Ew! You can’t talk about other things in front of your sister!”
Harper turns with a grin and holds out a set of keys. “Speaking of talking about things, we decided to let you borrow my car.”
I felt bad that they were basically going to have to turn around and drive me back to Sheet Cake again this afternoon. But this is way too much.
“I can’t borrow your car.” But even as I protest, I take the keys when Harper rolls her eyes and shakes them at me.
“At least until you have a chance to go back home and drive yours back down,” Chase says.
That isn’t happening. I’d rather ride a bike or walk everywhere than go back to Kansas for anything at all.
My father wouldn’t lock me in the house or anything—he wouldn’t need to. He’s not Rapunzel’s mother, literally locking me in a tower. The control he exercises over me is way more subtle than that, and he’s successful because I’m not good at standing up to him.
“Are you sure? I feel bad.”
“It’s fine,” Harper says. “Chase and I don’t really need two.”
I try to shove down the feelings of guilt over needing so much help when I’m trying to stand on my own.
Since Tank will be in Austin for a while, he offered to let me stay in the loft where I stayed with Collin the other night.
Which is really nice of Tank—even if it will remind me of Collin.
Now Harper is letting me borrow her car.
I’m grateful for people’s generosity and kindness. Even if I wish the start of adulting required less help. Right now, it feels a little bit like the process requires a whole team of people basically yanking me up by my armpits and then carrying me.
Unlike my father, though, these offers don’t come with tight strings.
And I will stand on my own. I will.
So, I simply say thanks again, give them both one more hug, and head back to Sheet Cake alone.
By the time I make it back to Main Street and have found parking on a side street near the loft, I’ve worked up the courage to text Collin. I can text first. I’m an adult. I’m not being needy.
It’s called communicating.
This is what I tell myself, all while wondering why he hasn’t communicated with me first.
At the very least, I need to tell him about our successful social start on social media and that I’m back in Sheet Cake. But the reality is that I just want to talk to him.
I have no idea when I’ll see him again, and I don’t like that.
Molly: Long time no see, Mr. Graham. What are you up to?
He doesn’t answer right away, and I don’t immediately turn off the car. My audiobook—a romantasy—has just hit a good part where the enemies are realizing they’re not enemies after all and that they’d rather be kissing than killing each other.
My phone buzzes in my hand. The sight of Collin’s name on the screen makes my heart achieve liftoff like I’m a teen girl with a crush. Not an adult woman faking a relationship.
Collin: That’s Mr. Biceps to you. Dinner?
I’m just texting him that I’m already back in Sheet Cake, not Austin, when there’s a knock on the car window.
I jump. Then do a double take when I see Collin standing outside.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but every time I see him, the man looks better.
Today, he’s a little more casual than I’ve seen him, wearing a worn pair of jeans and boots paired with an untucked T-shirt that’s tight enough to be just shy of indecent.
His neat brown hair is hidden under a backwards baseball cap.
When he crosses his arms over his chest, I can literally see his chest muscles flexing underneath.
I turn off the car and climb out. “I thought you were in Austin.”
“I thought you were in Austin,” he says. “At least, until I found myself behind you on the drive here.”
“Seriously?”
“I recognized Harper’s car. When I realized you were the one behind the wheel, I tried pulling up beside you and waving, but you seemed awfully focused.”
I was—on my audiobook. Though more than once, I caught my mind wandering to Collin and had to start a chapter over.
“Focus is important while driving,” I tell him.
Collin lifts his eyebrows. “Were you focused on driving or the audiobook I heard playing just now? From what I could hear, it sounded … intense.”
My brain instantly spirals out, trying to think about what Collin might have heard. I prefer my books on the tame side as far as romance goes, but sometimes it’s hard to tell if the book is spicy or not until there are clothes flying off.
A flush moves through me as I recall the scene that was just playing. All clothes were intact, but the main characters’ heated argument had just given way to heated kissing.
“Um … both?”
Collin smirks. “I’ll bet. You’ll have to give me the title. Maybe we could do a buddy read?”
Are my knees going weak or am I just imagining it?
“Do you like fantasy?”
Seems like a safe plan to leave the romance part out. Or maybe I just don’t know if I can say the word to Collin, like it would somehow reveal all the romantic thoughts currently circling in my head.
“Are we talking high fantasy? Cozy fantasy? Fantasy romance?”
Collin places one hand on the car, boxing me in on one side, then leans closer. He brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek, his fingertips lingering on my skin, which is now flaming.
“Because I have to tell you,” he says. “I prefer my fantasy with romance.”
My knees are definitely about to buckle. Just like the rest of me. I’m not falling—I’m crumpling for this man.
“Well, hello there!” a friendly and familiar voice calls. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”
Pat is strolling up the sidewalk with a grin. Collin grumbles under his breath. “Too late.”
The interruption snaps me out of my Collin-induced trance, and I take a step back from him. When did we get so close?
“Hey, Pat,” I say. “How are you?”
“Just dandy. And how about you?” His grin is wide, and as he steps forward to give me a hug, I can tell he’s trying to get under Collin’s skin. It’s working. Collin is glaring, and Pat looks smug.
I’m not sure how to react. Especially since Collin and I talked through no details about our fake dating. Like, for example, if he’s going to be honest with his family or if we’re pretending for them too.
“I’m fine,” Collin says. “Molly’s fine. Everything is fine.” But as soon as he’s done talking, he frowns and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. With a heavy sigh, he says, “Give me a second. I need to take this. It’s our favorite family lawyer.”
“Sure, sure. I’ll just keep Molly company,” Pat says.
Collin hesitates, then throws his brother a dark look before wandering up the sidewalk with his phone pressed to his ear. I hope Thayden is calling with good news, but I doubt one video is enough to fully change the tide of public opinion. At least, not within twelve hours.
I realize then that he didn’t tell me why he’s back in Sheet Cake already. Is it too big of a stretch to hope it’s because he missed me?
“So, Molly,” Pat says. “Dad sent me over to give you a key to his place. Can I help you carry things up?”
I was planning to ask Collin—that is, if I was able to regain my sense of composure—but this works too.
“Sure! Thanks.”
I open the trunk and Pat hoists my big rolling suitcase like it’s nothing. One thing is for certain—the genetics in the Graham family can’t be beat. I grab my backpack and the smaller rolling suitcase.
We’ve just made it upstairs when Collin bursts through the door. He’s a little out of breath and is carrying a box in his arms with a duffle bag over one shoulder.
I stare at his box and bag. He stares at my rolling suitcases.
“What are those?” he asks.
“It’s all my stuff. Tank said I could stay here until I find a place since he’ll be in Austin,” I say. “Why do you have a box?”
As Collin drops his stuff, Pat starts to laugh. He hands me the key and then walks to the door, clapping a hand on Collin’s shoulder.
“I think you two just became roommates.”