Chapter 8 #2
"Come on. Let's go," I urge her, putting my hand on the small of her back and steering her. "You had fun today, huh?"
“Brad gave me some tequila,” she giggles.
I’ll just bet he did, the motherfucker.
"Hey!" Brad shouts. He’s pretty drunk, too. “Get your own girl. This one's mine."
He steps forward and grabs Mollie's arm, tugging her back to him. The second he touches her, something comes over me. One second, he's a few feet away, yanking her arm. The next minute, he’s down on the ground with his nose spouting blood and I'm being pulled off him.
"Break it up!" Jett yells in my ear.
I raise my hands, and allow him to pull me away from the second baseman.
"You fucking psycho!" Brad accuses as he hauls himself up from the ground. "God, you might have broken my nose!"
I shrug and try not to grin. "Sucks to suck."
Jett walks to where Mollie stands a few feet away, her eyes wide. "You cool?" he asks me.
"I'm cool." I shrug off his touch, drawn like a magnet to Mollie. "Are you okay?"
She looks up at me, cringing. "He got you pretty good."
It's only then that I realize my lip is bleeding. I touch it and shrug.
Inside, I’m seething. I’m the team’s golden boy. Generally, I don’t get in fights on the ice. I certainly don’t run around punching people.
But that asshole threatened my girl.
I say, "Let's go. You have to let me take care of you now since I defended your honor."
It's a joke, obviously. And thank god, Mollie snorts and says, "Yeah right. Lead the way, oh champion."
I do the only reasonable thing a man in my position would do. I take her to my cabin and take care of her. Is there a shit ton of risk to taking a tipsy Mollie back to my cabin with nearly the whole team watching?
Yes.
But doing the reasonable thing, taking her back to her own cabin, grates against me. I need to know that she’s safe and comfortable.
Consequences be damned.
Once we get in the door, I pull off her shoes, grab a hoodie and pull it down over her head, and then make her lie down on the big bed.
Mollie shivers and I chase the sensation with a blanket. She nibbles on her lower lip. "Thanks, Thorne."
"Of course. Tea?" I walk over to the mini kitchen.
"That'd be nice." Her voice is soft and sleepy. "I think I drank too much."
"You're fine. You didn't do anything wrong." I put the kettle on and pop a tea bag in a mug.
"Well, I got drunk. Maybe I was giving Brad signals. Like... without meaning to?" She hiccups again. "Fucking hiccups."
I walk over and sit down on the bed beside her. "You didn't do anything wrong,” I repeat. “He was a douchebag who tried his luck out on the wrong girl."
"He was pushy.” She wrinkles her nose. “He was trying to get me to go back to his cabin. Which, like… no?”
"It’s creepy. He should know better than to pull that shit at all, much less here. All the girls work for the teams!" I rub my chin. "I think I'll call his team and lodge a complaint."
What’s really sticking in my craw is the idea of what might’ve happened to Mollie if I didn’t spring in. I have no idea if Brad is just an immature frat boy or a serial predator. And the fact that he was trying to take my girl somewhere more secluded… it’s eating at me.
Mollie sits up, brushing back her wild red hair. "Don't do it on my account."
"I’d feel better about it if he learned his lesson.”
She sighs. “You already punched him in the face, Thorne.”
“Maybe he should learn it twice. Next time, he’ll avoid trying to drag drunk girls into the woods.”
The kettle beeps for her tea. I get up and busy myself with pouring the hot water into a cup, adding a little honey, and putting a plate under the mug.
Taking care of Mollie feels natural. When I was a kid, my dad would constantly let my mom down, break her heart, and then come right back and do it all again.
And when my mom was at her lowest, I'd make her a cup of tea, make sure the lights were turned down, and tuck her in her recliner in the living room.
I've mastered the art of taking care of someone. It's been years since I last doted on someone like this, but the knowledge is still there, still in my muscle memory.
When I carry the tea back, though, Mollie's eyes are bloodshot and rimmed with tears. She blots at her face and clears her throat.
I set the tea down on the bedside table. "What is it? Do you need something? Tell me what I can do."
Did I fuck up? Did I say something wrong?
"It's nothing." Her response is breathy.
"Let me decide that." I sit down again, brushing my fingers over the back of her hand.
She sniffs. "Why are you suddenly being so nice?"
I shrug, although inside, I am wondering the same thing. Why am I suddenly being so nice? Making her tea, fixing her blankets. It feels weirdly relationship-y, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
I say, "Because you need it, Squeak."
She smiles at the nickname but shakes her head. "Hate that nickname."
It’s not the first time I’ve heard that from her. It’s better not to wade further into emotional waters right now, though. I tease, "Sorry. What should I call you? Darling? Sweetheart? Baby?"
My suggestions wouldn’t be the worst thing. I would love permission to call the girl I’m so obsessed with baby.
"No." She blushes, then hesitates. "Can I ask you something?"
God, I want to kiss her right now. She’s so vulnerable, and we’re sitting so close. She looks up at me with those sweet eyes and it takes a lot to still myself. "You can try. I may not have an answer for you."
Mollie schools her expression and looks over my shoulder. "Is there something wrong with me?"
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Like..." The red in her cheeks increases and she twists the blanket under her hands. "How can I be more attractive? To guys, I mean."
It takes the wind out of me like a gut punch. "I... don't think being unattractive is a problem for you, Molls. I just punched a guy who wanted to sleep with you.”
She inhales a deep, shaky breath. "There's something fundamentally wrong with me, Thorne. The only guys who pay any attention to me are the kind of guys who try to... to take advantage of me. How do I meet someone who wants me and isn't... like Brad?"
She's spiraling.
"Mollie."
Her eyes snap to my face.
I scoot a little closer, lifting her chin with a finger. "I didn't turn you down because I'm not interested. You're gorgeous and we have incredible chemistry." I suck in a breath. "But you're off-limits. You know that, right?"
It’s nearly impossible to say out loud, but I have to say it. Someone has to put a damper on these ashes smoldering between us.
She nibbles on her bottom lip, her expression wobbling. "You think we have good chemistry?"
"Like adding jet fuel to a wildfire."
Her mouth twists. "Can I…"
I can't look anywhere but her lips. That sassy mouth of hers calls to me like a Siren across the sea. Her lips part, pink and lush.
Fuck, she’s going to kiss me. And I’m going to let it happen because I’ve been dreaming of this for years.
Mollie’s eyes close. She brushes her lips against mine, the faint touch of her petal-soft skin electrifying me. A groan escapes my mouth.
Holy fuck. The feeling of rightness settles over me. It was always meant to happen, no matter how long I resisted this moment.
There's nothing I can do but press my lips against hers and sink further into her hold on me. I cup her chin, tilting her head back, positioning her to my liking before running my tongue over the seam of her lips. They part for me, and she moans as I stroke her tongue with my own. Instead of the frenzy I’d always imagined, it’s gentler, deeper.
She inhales and intensifies the kiss, her hand sliding around my shoulder to grip the hair at my nape.
I shudder. Mollie's tugging fingers feel too good, like candy that's so sweet that it will undoubtedly give you a toothache. Pressing her back into the bed, I count it down; one minute until I have to pull away.
But I make the most of that minute. My hand tangles in her hair, my pulse skimming as I taste her like I've wanted to for years.
She gasps every time she comes up for air, and it's everything I can do to swallow those little noises.
In a perfect world, where I wasn't her brother's teammate and a reformed fuckboy, I would take everything she's got.
Every single gasp and moan as I stripped her and made her scream my name.
But I keep my silent promise to myself, for her sake. After a minute, I pull away, chest heaving. She leans closer, chasing my lips, but I still her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Mollie."
She looks at me, her eyes heavy and lips swollen, like she doesn't quite understand. "Thorne?"
I move back again, then climb off of the bed entirely. "We can't do this."
To her credit, she isn't shocked by my words. She doesn't yell or demand any explanations. She just sighs as if carrying the weight of the world, and sinks back. "Okay."
The fact that she has so easily accepted my words is heartbreaking. I’ve confirmed her worst fear, her undesirability. She accepts it on its face.
"If it's not abundantly clear." Picking up the now tepid tea, I hand the mug to her. "If you were anyone else? I wouldn't stop. You're gorgeous. Smart, feisty, funny..."
Mollie sits back and takes a sip. "But I'm Beck's little sister," she finishes.
Even as she says it, I wondering if her forbiddenness even matters that much to me anymore. I had a taste of her. Am I really willing to just let her slip through my fingers?
"Yup," I nod. I mash down the feelings inside.
She pushes out her cheek with her tongue. "So, I guess we just return to normal," she concludes.
I nod. "That would be for the best."
I’m such a dirty liar. I hate myself.
"Fine." She shrugs and starts climbing out of my bed.
Panic floods me and I still her. "Where are you going?"
She gives me a funny look. "I can't stay in your bed, Thorne. I'm not a hookup. I'm just a girl who is crashing with you, temporarily."
I bite my lip. In another life, I'd reassure her that I don't try to keep hookups in my bed. And I don't make them tea before kissing them like it's the goddamn end of the world.
But I don't. Instead, I say, "It's late. Take the bed. I'll take the couch."
"I have my own cabin," she argues.
"Don't make me walk you home. I'm tired." Lies. I'm the opposite, wired and unable to concentrate with her so close.
My whole team is here. There’s a definite risk to keeping her in my cabin. And yet, I absolutely can’t let her sleep by herself.
Mollie pulls a face. "Fine. As long as you admit that there is a vibe between us."
I hesitate, then nod. "You're not imagining it. But you're still you. I'm still me."
She shrugs again. "I'm just drinking my tea."
"Mhm." I head to the couch, plunk down on it and start playing a mindless game on my phone. Mollie drinks her tea, then lies down. After a few minutes, her breathing evens out. She's asleep.
I pad out to the front porch, closing the door quietly behind me. It's long since grown dark, and the very first Fourth of July firework sizzles as it rockets skyward. It's pretty, but my thoughts are elsewhere.
I’m too twisted up over Mollie Tate to even notice.