Her being screwed over by one of the players on the team and having Will try to hand their ass to them scared him. Or worse still, Finn having to dole out a beating because someone touched his girl. He’d done it once before and while satisfying, he’d almost been busted by Will for having feelings for Molly.
His girl. He almost laughed. Molly Morrison didn’t belong to anyone but Molly Morrison. If she ever settled down – regardless of whether she settled with a man or a woman – her partner would need to recognize that the only way Molly would commit to being tied down was on her own terms.
Fowler’s face still sizzled. Molly would eat him alive if he went on a date with her. But Finn couldn’t take the risk that she’d develop feelings and he’d somehow hurt her – then he’d have to bury the body of a hockey brother. Ain’t nobody got time for that kind of complication when they were set for victory at the Frozen Four.
Finn hovered as Molly asked Fowler what his favorite pizza topping was – she liked to include a question or two from the fans in each of her interviews. It added a little personality to her reporting and gave the fans something to engage with.
Finn choked back a snort when he answered Hawaiian. If there had previously been a shot for Fowler to get into Molly’s pants, it was snuffed out by the proud declaration that he loved pineapple on pizza. He didn’t even have the decency to be ashamed by his admission. Molly’s face contorted, but she remained quiet.
Finn hadn’t needed to intervene after all. Molly would never get serious with someone who committed crimes against pizza. Fowler hauled ass onto the ice, followed by Seb and a few of the other players making their way from the locker room.
“Thought about what you’re doing for the summer yet, Mol?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who have you been talking to?”
“No one.” He held his hands up. “I just saw something I thought would be perfect for you. A summer internship. Eight weeks – okay, so it’s unpaid, but it’s with—”
“ESPN, I know. I saw the ad.” She turned her attention back to the notepad in her hand, adding something to the end of her notes. That was it? Just “I know?” He’d thought she’d be at least a little more excited at the idea of getting one step closer to her dream job.
When Finn and Will had played street hockey as teens, Molly grabbed the nearest cylindrical object, pretended it was a microphone and gave a play-by-play the whole time. She was pretty damn good at it, too.
“What gives, Mol? Don’t wanna be a color commentator anymore?”
“Uh, only since forever.”
“Then why aren’t you more excited about the internship?”
“Maybe I’m excited in here.” She pointed at her chest, but his eyes strayed just a little. Was she distracting him with her perfect tits? If so, it was totally working.
“You don’t look excited. You look like you ate something that made your stomach hurt and you’re about to get a bad dose of the shits.”
“Wow. Thanks, Finny. Nothing quite says ethereal goddess like ‘you look like you have the shits.’”
“Wait… hold up…”
“On the ice, O’Brien.” Will hollered from the end of the hall. “Less talking, more working.”
“This isn’t over, MoMo. That internship is perfect for you. I demand an explanation.”
She flipped him off over her shoulder before walking back toward the locker rooms. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was afraid. But Molly freakin’ Morrison was fearless. What was so big, so scary or bad that it was holding her back from pursuing her lifelong dream?
Chapter 6
Finnegan
(Four Years Earlier)
Finn flung open the door to Puck’s with gusto. He’d finished his first year in college, they’d missed out on getting to the final four by one measly point, but tonight was about celebrating. He’d survived.
“We’re going to need some volunteers.” A long-legged brunette wearing six inch heels, fishnets, and very little else spoke into a microphone in the middle of the bar next to a row of empty chairs.
“I volunteer as tribute!” Determined to have a good night, Finn threw his hand into the air.
The sign on the door on their way in said there was a burlesque show that evening, and there was nothing he loved more than women who loved their bodies and celebrated them with fervor. And food. He loved food. Some days it was a toss-up between the two.
Will shook his head and groaned. “Of course you volunteer as tribute.”
Finn slapped his open palm on Will’s chest twice. “We’re celebrating, Mo. We survived our first year in college. We didn’t burn the house down, get food poisoning, or get kicked out of school.”
