Chapter 25
Molly
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, tracing the collar of the midnight-blue dress I’m wearing. “The dress is perfect. How do you think he knew our sizes?” I ask as Lindy emerges from my bathroom.
Thirty minutes ago, just when I was considering how I could communicate to Collin and everyone else that I wasn’t going to the wedding, Winnie, Lindy, Val, and Jo showed up at the loft with everything needed to get ready.
“Hope this is okay,” Winnie says, tossing a garment bag on the sofa. “The loft has two bathrooms and is right up the street from Dark Horse, so we thought we’d all get ready together here then walk over.”
I wasn’t about to argue. Or to explain I was thinking about not going to the wedding at all.
Especially not when Winnie revealed what was in the garment bags: midnight blue dresses for Lindy, Val, Jo, and … me. Apparently, they’re gifts from Tank. Harper has one too, but she’s coming from Austin with Chase, so Winnie managed to get the dress to her ahead of time.
When Lindy said they tried calling me, I had to explain about my dad cutting me off the phone plan. I mean, I didn’t have to, but I did. I’m tired of not being fully transparent about my family. Or about Collin.
The joke felt fun up until now, when faced with a family wedding and being included in the dresses, even if I’m not in the wedding party.
Collin and I need to tell them.
That is … assuming we’re still together. Which I am assuming. Until or unless I hear it straight from Collin’s mouth, I refuse to believe anything from Liza.
“I normally don’t question things when it comes to Tank Graham,” Lindy says now, smoothing down the same midnight-blue fabric over her belly and then rummaging through her makeup bag. “But in this case, Winnie was in on it, so she probably gave the sizes and styles while Tank footed the bill.”
That makes sense with everyone else—Winnie knows them all well. But me? How did she pick such a perfect dress for me?
The dress has a loose and flowy skirt, hitting just above my knees with a cinched waist and wide straps. I’m a sucker for a good square neck and how it softens my collarbones and shoulders. This dress is exactly the kind I would have picked out for myself.
As though she’s reading my thoughts, Lindy says, “She probably checked your TikTok to figure out your style. Winnie’s a grade-A internet stalker. You’ll get used to it.”
Will I? The mere mention of TikTok brings back the ugly feelings of insecurity I’ve been battling since last night. Not just about Collin and where we stand, but how I fit into this whole family.
“It’s not weird that I’m wearing the same color but not actually in the wedding party?” I ask.
“Not unless you feel weird about it,” Lindy says. “But Tank thought of it, and Winnie wanted to include you.”
I shouldn’t distrust this kind of open acceptance. But even with my own parents, it felt like there were always hoops to jump through. And I was never quite jumping high enough.
“Did you see Liza’s video?” I ask abruptly. “Is that why you’re all here right now?”
Lindy freezes for a moment, holding a mascara wand dangerously close to her eye. Then she goes right back to her lashes.
“Yes, we saw it. And no, that’s not why we’re here.” A pause. “At least, not the only reason. These bathrooms are really spacious, and we wanted to be able to get ready and just walk over. Together.”
I sink down on my unmade bed. “Oh.”
A burst of giggling laughter comes from down the hall, where Winnie, Val, and Jo are getting ready in the other bathroom. I find myself smiling, but it falls quickly.
Lindy tosses something on the bed next to me. “Here,” she says. “Use my phone. Call Collin.”
I don’t make a move to pick up the phone. “I’ll see him soon.”
“If you won’t call, then text him.”
“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”
I’m not sure why I’m balking. I want to talk to Collin. I need the reassurance of his voice and to hear his explanation of what happened with Liza, which I’m sure was just manipulation and misrepresentation.
But still—being the one to reach out to him feels like too much. Call me silly and insecure, but I need him to be the one to initiate and explain. I am not going to call and ask.
Lindy flops down next to me on the bed, picks up her phone, and opens her text messages, scrolling for a moment before handing me her phone. “Fine. Then just read these.”
It’s a series of texts from Collin, starting last night.
Collin: I know Winnie said she’s fine, but I’m just checking on Molly. Is she still with you?
Lindy: [eyeroll emoji] You’ve got it BAD, Collin Graham.
Collin: IS MOLLY WITH YOU?
Lindy: Yes. And she only had one shot of tequila with Winnie, so she’s doing fine.
Collin: Does she have water?
Lindy: OH MY GOSH YOU’RE LIKE A MOTHER HEN. Stop it. We’re taking care of your girlfriend.
Lindy: Or is that FAKE girlfriend?
Lindy: I think REAL girlfriend sounds better. And seems more accurate.
Collin: Will you tell her hi?
Lindy: No. Because I’m supposed to be paying attention to this very important meeting. Right now, everyone’s trashing Billy Waters.
Collin: Sounds fun. Tell Molly hi and I’ll see her later.
“See?” Lindy says, pointing at the screen. “And look—more from this morning.”
Collin: Hey, I still can’t reach Molly. I ended up staying in Austin last night because we talked too late, but I couldn’t tell her. Any chance you can try her?
Lindy: My calls aren’t going through. Not sure about texts, but I sent one and she didn’t answer.
Collin: Can you stop by and check on her? Just let her know that I’m okay and sorry I didn’t get back last night? I don’t want her to worry.
Lindy: You’re doing enough worrying for the both of you. It’s my best friend’s wedding day, so I’ll do my best, but I’m a little busy at the moment.
Seeing the messages goes a long way toward reassuring the ugly, insecure part of me that’s been anxious about where I stand.
Collin has never given me reason to worry, but Liza’s video created a tiny fissure of doubt.
It’s really hard to see something like that and have thousands of internet commenters weighing in and not worry.
All the more reason I can’t wait to take my life offline.
“Text him back,” Lindy says. “The man is miserable.”
“Fine.”
My heart races for no good reason at all as I tap out a simple message: Hey, it’s Molly.
A message pops up immediately.
Collin: It’s Pat on Collin’s phone. Collin is yelling at me to let him talk to you, but he’s driving. Safety first!
Collin: But he says to tell you Liza is a liar and that he’ll buy you a phone as soon as he can and he can’t wait to kiss you.
Collin: He said I have to tell you that I added the last part about kissing but it’s true.
Collin: Fine. I added that too. But it IS TRUE. And he says he’ll talk to you as soon as he can but the wedding stuff might mean it takes a little while. He also said he loves you.
Lindy, who’s been unabashedly reading every text, gasps. I drop the phone.
Even though I know it’s Pat texting and, because it’s Pat, he’s probably just messing with me, seeing those words sends a whole wave of emotion cascading through my chest. Probably because I’d love to hear those words.
Not that I expected or even hoped for them so soon. But maybe soon-ish?
Lindy snatches the phone from the floor and immediately calls Pat. It’s not on speaker, but I can hear Collin yelling as soon as Pat picks up.
“Collin is going to kill you,” Lindy says. “And you deserve it. Too far, Patrick Graham. Too far.”
“Too far for what?” Val asks as she and Jo walk into the room.
They’re both wearing different styles of the same deep-blue fabric as ours; Jo in a cute dress with short sleeves, and Val in a longer maxi dress style.
Val’s dark hair hangs long and loose down her back while Jo’s lighter brown hair is in two French braids.
Lindy holds the phone away from her ear because Collin is still yelling. “Pat’s taking things too far with Molly and Collin.”
Val looks from Lindy to me. “Too far with what? Sounds like someone needs to fill me in on a lot of things.”
“It’s just the whole thing where they’re pretending they’re fake dating but are actually really dating.” The look Lindy gives me is sly. “Yeah, we all know.”
I laugh nervously and decide to play dumb. “Know what?”
As I see Jo’s guilty face, I understand. “I told,” Jo says, sounding miserable. “I’m sorry.”
The secret is out; the fake dating ruse is over.
Honestly, all I feel is relief.
I wrap an arm around Jo’s shoulders and give her a hug. “Oh, sweetie. It’s fine. It was all meant to just be fun.”
“You’re not mad?” she asks, looking up at me hopefully.
“Of course not. Collin won’t be mad either.”
“Collin sounds mad. I could hear him yelling.”
“Not at you,” Lindy says, tugging on one of Jo’s braids. “Daddy just opened his big mouth and put his foot in it.”
“That’s a gross expression.” Jo hops up and heads to the door, apparently done with the adult conversation. “I’m getting a snack.”
“How close are you?” Lindy asks, putting the phone back to her ear.
She listens for a moment, though I’m not sure how she can hear since Collin’s voice is still carrying loudly through the phone.
“Fine. We’ll see you then.” She turns to me with a smile.
“Sorry about that. Pat doesn’t see lines, so he doesn’t know when he’s crossing them.
The good news is that now you know that we know y’all are really dating, you can stop pretending, and we can stop messing with you. ”
I remember the photo shoot and wonder if they already knew then. Thinking of all the poses and the demands for touching … probably.
“What’s the bad news?” Val asks.
“The bad news is they got pulled over—not by Chevy—and Collin got a ticket. Guess he was in a hurry, racing here to try and see Molly. But now they’re running late, so you might have to wait until after the ceremony to actually talk to Collin. Think you can manage waiting a little more?”