His wide-eyes met Molly’s and he scrunched his face up. Strike one – eating like a bird. Finn O’Brienlovedhis food. He could never settle down with someone who didn’t eat every meal like it was their last one on earth.
Why hadn’t she ordered something else? Like a salad. Or suggested another restaurant? Who the hell got tacos but didn’t eat the glue that held it all together? Was she some kind of sociopath?
Strike two – she smacked her food and talked with her mouth open. Molly couldn’t help but laugh, forcing it into a cough when Finn gave her the look – the one that said “if you crack up, I’ll crack up, so don’t crack up.” The date set up must have been her brother’s doing. His heart was in the right place, but his success rate for setting up his friends was less than great.
Cleo returned to the table, tray of tacos in hand. Molly made a deliberate show of taking a huge bite from her bbq beef brisket and making audible yummy noises. Finn rolled his eyes.
Cleo canted her head. “Why are we overdramatizing our meal?” She leaned forward and hissed out a whisper.
Molly smirked. “I’ll tell you later.” She took another bite. The date had two tacos on her plate, Molly had four, though since the nausea at seeing Finn with another woman had passed, she could have made a good faith effort on six. Maybe she’d get some to take home.
She finished her first brisket taco and moved on to the roasted pork. Another groan. This time it wasn’t fake though. Some days she wondered if she could be brought to orgasm just from really mind-blowing tacos.
Cleo chewed in silence, her eyes narrowed as though she was evaluating the situation. Molly opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut when The Date started talking.
“Do you know her? You keep staring.”
Molly fought a smile and willed her cheeks not to go pink. She’d have to deal with the fact she loved the idea of him staring at her, later.
“She’s my best friend’s sister.”
Her eye twitched. She was Will’s sister. But she’d hoped she’d become a friend in her own right. They’d been through a lot together. Cleo’s eyes widened, but Molly shook her head. Cleo had already finished her three tacos, and Molly was beyond done witnessing the date from hell. “I’m going to take the rest of these to go.”
Cleo nodded, a grim-set line in place of her usual bright smile. As Molly pushed back from the table, The Date continued. “So why are you staring at her so much? Do you have a thing for her? Is that what it is? Why are you on a date with me if you like her?”
Strike three for The Date – Finn O’Brienhatedjealous girlfriends. He was too easy going and laid back, and at least until recently he enjoyed the company of too many people – sometimes at the same time – for a jealous partner to work for him. Too bad, so sad, she’d never be Mrs. Finnegan Aiden O’Brien. Though if Finn kept referring to Molly as Will’s sister neither would she.
Molly had attributed his recent dry spell in the revolving door of Finn O’Brien’s booty calls to his stress levels being above average, to keeping his head in the game and not wanting distractions. But what if it was more? What if he’d been secretly dating the blonde committing crimes against tacos? What if it was serious?
Molly’s face burned as she carried her plate of tacos to the counter and asked the server to put them into a box and to make her three more. She hadn’t heard what Finn’s answer had been, but Cleo was a good best friend, she’d be taking notes.
Molly paid the check and beckoned Cleo who – by all appearances was casually scrolling her phone. Molly knew better. Cleo’s face hadeavesdroppingwritten all over it.
“Let’s go.” Molly picked up the bag from the counter and turned to the door without a glance back ather brother’s best friend.Sigh. Would it kill him to acknowledge she was more than Will’s sister?
Let it go, Molly. Bless and release.“We’re going to Target.” She stepped into the darkness with a shudder.
“What do we need in Target?”
Molly snorted like Cleo was new and had never before experienced the Target Phenomenon. “It doesn’t matter, no matter what we need it won’t be what we come out with.”
Cleo laughed. “True story. No more ceramic animals though, we’re running out of space.”
“There’s always room for ceramic animals.”
With a shake of her head, Cleo walked toward the car. “We’re walking. It’s just across the parking lot. That way, if we can’t carry it back to the car, we won’t buy it.”
Molly loved her bestie’s optimism. Clearly history had taught her nothing. She balanced along the curb as they walked across the parking lot. Every few steps, her balance wavered and her foot brushed against the grassy bank next to the concrete, the wet blades of grass tickled her ankle and sent shivers through her cold legs.
“Molly? Have you fallen in love with him?”
“I’d rather fall down the stairs.” She grinned. Deflecting with funnies was an easy way to ignore the pangs in her chest. She was ass-over-tits in love with him, but she couldn’t say the words out loud. Molly Morrison didn’t do love. She did no strings, fun, do ‘em and ditch ‘em.
Her foot slipped off the edge of the concrete and she fell with a shriek they probably heard three states over. As she landed on the cold, wet grass she swore and let out a grunt. A stabbing pain shot through her foot and into her calf. Her ankle throbbed. Who the fuck sprained their ankle getting tacos? There was an irony in spraining her ankle while running from the man she wanted to eat her taco.
If she ever needed a sign she should have stayed home and eaten ice cream for dinner, a burning ankle and a wet ass was probably it. “Mother fucking fuck.” She slapped the hard soil on either side of her butt.
Cleo stood two feet away, she’d somehow managed to rescue the tacos from being squashed under Molly in the fall. She was the real MVP. “You okay?”
