6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Molly
“We’re not kissing her before the pizza gets here,” Emmett growled.
I’d heard of men growling before, but I never knew what it meant. Now I did. It was nothing like I thought it would be. Embarrassingly, I thought it would sound like a lion. It kind of had some lion qualities, but it was all human. All primal. And I felt it all throughout my body.
The second the words left Emmett’s gorgeous lips—that I would totally kiss if he wanted to kiss me—my stomach catapulted back into my body and I reached blindly for the couch, sinking my fingers into the thick, velvety fabric.
Did he actually say what I thought I heard?
We?
As in, Preston and Emmett both planned on kissing me?
My fingers dug into the couch until the tips felt bruised.
I lost my voice. My nerves were on hyper drive.
I needed to learn what love was so I could get my manuscript done.
A few hours ago, I’d planned on reading enough books to ingrain romance so deep into my brain, I couldn’t help but spew out a story of love when my fingers hit the keyboard.
But kissing two men who were by all unrealistic beauty standards total hotties? That would definitely fast track my understanding. If not about love, at least about lust.
“So, after then?” Preston chuckled and walked over to me, peeling my hand off the couch like he was unbothered by my nerves. “You’ll at least have to give me some time to brush my teeth afterwards—”
“I don’t have a toothbrush here,” I said, horrified at the thought of breathing any sort of garlic or tomato sauce essence into their mouths.
He squeezed my fingers, and my hand burned at his touch. Even though we’d held hands before, this time was different. This time, I felt his touch spread like a warm tangle of ivy throughout my whole body. It was because love was on my mind. That was all.
“I keep plenty of extra toothbrushes on hand. All new. Morning breath—” He made a grossed-out face and I almost laughed until I realized why he kept new toothbrushes on hand.
“For all the women you bring home,” I muttered, the thought like a bucket of ice water over my head.
Emmett raised his brows and gave Preston a loaded look. “Preston doesn’t like morning breath, so he makes sure all the women who sleep over—” He narrowed his eyes. “—have a new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. He has quite the selection. Have you ever seen it?”
Was he asking if I’d ever slept with Preston? My cheeks burned, and I tugged my hand away from him. “No. I haven’t.”
Preston’s face fell slightly before he rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to be a jerk just because I bring home more people than you do.”
“I don’t bring anyone home. Especially not fans that want me because I’m a hockey player—”
“I only bring home women who enthusiastically want to be with me,” Preston said through gritted teeth.
It was Emmett’s turn to roll his eyes. “I wasn’t implying anything else.”
Preston scoffed. I had to hide my smile behind my hand. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was witnessing, but holy crap, I was thankful to have a front-row seat. These two had some serious tension.
The doorbell rang and Preston dove for the door. “Pizza’s here.”
Emmett was fuming. Preston had decided that was clearly the end of their discussion, and Emmett wasn’t done talking. It was just like Preston, though. Of course, he wanted a way out. That was his mode of operation—deflect, redirect, and act like it was all fine.
He shut the door, balancing five pizza boxes and a bag of appetizers, grinning like he hadn’t just been ready to jump Emmett. “Bon appétit!”
“The dining room’s in here,” Emmett said, a resigned civility softening his words as he scowled at Preston while motioning for me to walk ahead of him.
They had a strange dynamic. I wondered if Lucas knew what went on behind his best friend’s door. If he did, he’d never mentioned it. Preston and Emmett were like an old married couple, and it was adorable.
They bickered in low, rough mutters all the way to the dining room, but as soon as I wheeled around to face them, they stood up straight, smiling big.
“I can get the plates?”
Preston shook his head. “You’re our guest. I’ve got the plates.”
Emmett helped him get the stack of pizzas successfully on the table and I opened the appetizer bags, inhaling the BBQ boneless wings. A moan slid from my throat, and I snapped the bag shut, looking at Emmett with terror gripping my throat.
He smirked and leaned over. “Must be some good wings.” He bent down and inhaled so deeply his arm brushed mine.
I sucked in a breath but didn’t let my body make another sound.
Preston walked in with plates and napkins, and I was thankful he didn’t hear my ecstasy over smelling fried food.
“I bet you guys are hungry after tonight’s game,” I said, the words falling like lead weights inside my ears.
Emmett’s grin grew. “Famished.” He took two plates from Preston, putting one in front of me, and one in front of himself.
We dug in, loading our plates, and, with every bite, I was aware of how many nerve endings were on my lips.
Had they always been like that? Was it just because my first kiss could happen any moment?
Like, maybe my lips weren’t normally like this because they had been dormant, but Preston and Emmett broke down a door I shut a long time ago, and oh my gosh, as I watched Preston take a bite, his tongue darting out slightly before his lips closed over the melted cheese, I couldn’t believe this was actually going to happen.
I checked in with my sinuses. All good. Not a hint of a tickle anywhere to be found.
“Preston told me you’re a writer,” Emmett said, taking a bite with his lips on full display.
Eating pizza wasn’t sexy. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been. But my word. I was jealous of a slice of pepperoni as Emmett’s lips grazed over it again.
“Yeah,” Preston said, tilting his head as he watched me. “She’s pretty prolific—”
I ripped my eyes away from Emmett’s lips and shook my head. “I’m just a ghostwriter.”
“A prolific ghostwriter,” Preston added. “She writes for big names, but she won’t tell me who.”
“It’s not a secret.” I rolled my eyes. “Just take one look at the shelves in Lucas’s house.”
My brother wasn’t a big reader. His bookshelves contained two things: art books courtesy of Rebecca, and the entire catalog of Rose E. Rhymes books.
“What genre do you write?” Emmett asked.
“Thrillers,” I said, smiling to myself. I loved the fast-paced world I had created for Rose. My protagonist, Katie, solved all sorts of problems and found herself in crazy situations that readers tried hard to crack, but rarely guessed. “But that’s changing,” I said, shifting in my seat.
I glanced at Preston and his face sobered. “You can tell him.”
His encouragement prodded me just enough, and I cleared my throat, my smile dipping into a frown. “The author I write for is shifting into romance.” Emmett’s eyes lit up, and I shook my head. “Don’t laugh at me. I can’t bear it.”
He scowled, looking at Preston for a beat. “Why would I laugh at you?”
“It’s romance,” I whispered, like the walls could hear me. If they could, they’d be judging me.
“What’s wrong with romance?” Emmett whispered back.
I shrugged and played with an olive that had fallen onto my plate. “It’s cheesy.”
“The pizza’s cheesy. Romance isn’t.”
I snorted. And then I remembered the front room was filled with books. He hadn’t changed anything since his grandma died. My stomach sank. Was she a big romance reader, and I just implied the genre was too ridiculous to bother with?
“I mean,” I backtracked, gulping. “I don’t have anything against someone reading it. It’s like the most popular genre every year and there’s a reason for that—”
“Molls, it’s okay,” Preston said, putting his hand over mine.
It was starting to feel like I couldn’t get enough air, but as soon as he held my hand, my breathing leveled out. I snuck a peek at Emmett, and he was smiling. Clearly not offended by my prejudice against romance.
“And this switch in genre is why you want to have your first kiss?” Emmett asked, mercifully changing the subject. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a much better topic.
“Yeah, I—” The words to tell him why I was so scared to kiss someone were right on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t do it.
Preston knew a little about what happened.
It had been hard to hide the entire story from him and Lucas when I came home from school a weeping disaster.
But he didn’t know all the details. Just that I botched my first kiss.
He didn’t know I sneezed in Marcus Kent’s face—maybe even his mouth.
And he didn’t know how relentlessly I was teased about it until I graduated and fell out of contact with everyone from my grade, except Juliet.
I would be keeping those details to myself.
Preston ran his thumb over the back of my hand and my eyes dropped to the place where our skin touched. He was comforting me. That was all. But this was intimate comforting. I’d never been reassured like that and it was—cozy?
“Can you tell him?” I whispered, meeting Preston’s eyes.
He nodded, taking a quick breath before clutching my fingers.
“In middle school, Molly was about to have her first kiss, but it went terribly wrong.” He tilted his head, considering me for a moment.
His gaze heated my cheeks. “She never told us exactly what happened, but she was so sad when she got home from school that day.”
He frowned and rubbed my hand as he watched me. My stomach twisted, and I felt like I had done something wrong. Like withholding that information had hurt him somehow. And just like I hadn’t let go of the horror of sneezing in Marcus’s face, Preston was still holding onto the pain of my omission.
“I sneezed in his face,” I blurted, pressing my eyes shut. No matter how many times I tried to forget the way Marcus looked at me afterward, I could still see it as clearly as if it were currently happening. “Maybe even his mouth. And then everyone he told teased me about it forever.”
“He told people about it?” Preston said, his nostrils flaring.
Emmett pressed his hands to the table and half-stood. “Does he live nearby?”
“What are you going to do?” I asked, looking at both of them. “Beat him up for something that happened in middle school?”
Emmett shrugged, but I shook my head. “It won’t do anything. He’s a popular lawyer in California now.”
“Molls,” Preston said so softly a tear stung the corners of my eyes. “He shouldn’t have told everyone.”
I blinked them open, avoiding a torrent of tears. “No. Don’t feel bad for me.”
“You had a minor hiccup before your first kiss and he ruined your confidence. I wish I would’ve known the whole story back then—” Preston’s eyes flashed with something that made my stomach twist.
“It’s not your job to fix it. It’s something I need to face.
Maybe. I don’t know.” I sucked in a breath so hard I felt dizzy.
But once I started talking, I couldn’t stop.
“All I know is that I was terrified to ever try again and now I’m twenty-five and have never been kissed.
And kissing is like the precursor to love.
Now my job depends on me writing a romance manuscript or I lose the best contract I’ll ever see in my career.
And if I lose the contract, I lose my apartment since my best friend found love—if that’s even a real thing—and is ditching me to go live with her soon-to-be husband.
This has been one of the worst days of my life.
And it’s all because of one stupid sneeze like twelve years ago, I’m stuck in purgatory while everyone lives their lives around me. ”
Suddenly aware of my rambling—and the fact I just spilled out my darkest secrets to Preston and Emmett, I got to my feet, more embarrassed than I’d ever been. Preston grabbed my arm.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
Emmett stood up and moved to the seat on the other side of me. “Alright, here’s how this is going to go.”