Chapter 8
THE FIZZY FLOATIES
MOLLY
I'm having the best night of my life.
Never have I been so happy as I am tonight, floaty and spinny and effervescent.
I want to marry lemon drops. Currently, I'm working on number five.
Well, sorta. It's back at the table with Grey while I line dance with Shelby, Jessa, and Cass to "Achy Breaky Heart.
" I tried to get Carlin to join us, but he just laughed, said he had two left feet, and headed home for the night.
How did my old friends and I not do this? Or did they and they just didn't tell me they tried it? They're lucky I didn't know how much fun it would be--I'd have been an insufferable lush.
I'm sweating my ass off, the four of us laughing when I turn the wrong way again.
I should ask Grey if I've hit peaches level.
He wouldn't lie to me--I feel completely and utterly safe in his care, more than I think I even would have with Cass, probably because she's as hammered as I am.
So far, I've learned how to line dance, made a ton of new friends, and forged a new bond with the friends I have.
Cass tried to teach me how to two step, but we're both too drunk.
We just kept stomping each other's toes and bumping thighs and laughing too hard to be productive, so we decided to save it for another night.
When the song ends, Cass hooks her arm in mine and we walk back to the table, but she stops short and points at the bar's neon logo on the wall.
"Molly. Molly, look."
I look. I look really hard.
She holds up her hand and closes one eye, listing into me a little. "HORSESHOE? HORSES, HOE."
My jaw drops when I see it. "HORSES, HOE!"
She shrieks it back and we collapse into each other, cackling, yelling giddyup and yeehaw and throwing invisible lassos over our heads.
"How in the ever-loving hell did I never see that before?" she asks. "I'm deeply disturbed by this miss."
When we get to the table, the guys are all there, giving us confused, amused looks.
They're sitting together at one end of the table with their coordinating partner's purse and drink in front of them.
Remy's playing with the strap of Jessa's designer bag absently.
But Grey is on the end. Despite being a part of the group and the conversation, he feels separate, alone. Lonely. The thought weighs on my heart.
Not tonight. I'll make sure of it.
I brush the sads away and climb into my seat next to Grey, slipping on the rung, but catching myself before I bust my rear. When I'm seated, I pick up a coaster and slap it on the table in front of him.
"Grey. Look. HORSES, HOE."
He stares at it, then at me. And then, he laughs. "Welp, now it's ruined."
"You're welcome." I make a show of sitting up properly, saying with my best British accent, "My drink please, good sir."
That one little corner of his mouth rises.
"For you, my lady." He spins his chair just a hair, just enough that he can see me better.
But when he hooks one big hand on my knee and turns me a little, I feel the contact all the way up to my eyebrows.
His boot rests on one of the rungs of my chair. Something about it is super-duper hot.
"Having fun?" he asks as I take a sip to cover my reaction.
"So much fun! I made so many new friends, Grey.
See that guy?" I point in the direction of the bar.
"That's Hal. He owns the hardware store, and his favorite book is The Firm.
And that's Sheila. Her favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird, which, same.
My cat's name is even Scout." I flush. "Oh, you probably know everyone, don't you? "
"Yup. But I don't know their favorite books. Keep going. What else?"
And then I'm floating again. "I line danced and tried to two step and laughed so much. This has been the best night, Grey. Thanks again." I pick up my necklace to nibble on a pretzel. "Seriously, this is the smartest thing. Where'd you learn it?"
"Pub crawling at UT."
"Did you play ball?" I take a sip of the giant water, which is almost gone. Go me!
"I did. Wasn't quite good enough to play pro, so when a coaching job opened back home--here--I decided to take it.
I taught some high school kids for extra money through college and found out I really like it.
How come you never did this in college?" He flicks his chin toward my drink. "Why do it now?"
My head cocks. "I take it you didn't have strict parents."
Something shutters behind his eyes. "My grandma raised me, and she trusted me with anything. Everything. She didn't give a shit what I did as long as I stayed out of trouble. Your parents are strict?"
His grandma raised him? What happened to his parents?
It doesn't feel right to ask, so I save it for another time and answer his question.
"They're just…" Needy? Overbearing? Controlling?
"Overprotective. It's weird because, well, we're friends, despite that they've been insufferable since I moved away.
But at the time, I didn't mind all that much.
I didn't usually have anywhere to go where this was happening--my high school friends were home schooled like me, and my college friends were librarians.
But yeah, they didn't let me out much. They even got me to stay home through college because they'd only pay for it if I lived with them. "
This time, that thundercloud draws a shadow across his face. "They what?"
"It's not as bad as it sounds."
One dark brow rises.
"I mean, it sucks, but where was I gonna go?
I didn't have to work and go to school. I had a free place to stay and home cooked meals.
And like I said--my parents are my friends too.
" He doesn't look convinced, but I'm not sure I'm capable of convincing him of anything in the state I'm in.
"Anyway, I'm glad I'm doing it now. I don't …
" I glance down at my fingers as they play with the hem of the opposite cardigan sleeve.
"I don't want to be boring. I don't want to be the girl who never did anything.
I want to try new things. Like beer, even though it smells nasty, or weed! "
I must have said it a little loud--a couple of people glance over. But I giggle a little before it fades again.
"I'm glad to be out of their house so I can travel and eat weird foods and come to The Horseshoe and get hammered on fancy lemonade.
Buy my own house, make my own way. I want experiences, you know?
Like being drunk or falling in love, though I'm not sure what that's supposed to feel like either.
I've never even been kissed, can you believe that?
!" I blurt it out so easily, I cannot look at him out of embarrassment.
I take a sip of my drink to stop myself from saying anything else and end up draining it.
You just told him that. You just told Wolf Daddy you've never been kissed.
Out loud. With words. By the time I set the empty glass on the table, I've gotten myself together and smile at him.
"Anyway, my point is, I'm doing the damn thing, all because of you. So thanks again."
I still cannot look at him, but I feel the weight of his gaze on me, so heavy it has me sweating. I pull off my cardigan, chuckling.
"Man it's hot in here. I need to pee." I'm slipping off the stool, and he grabs my elbow to steady me. But I'm twisting away, still avoiding his eyes, desperate to see if I can find my dignity in the bathroom. "Be right back!" I sing.
But no amount of air can cool me off.