Molly started to tell Finn he should go and finish his date, but said date talked over her.
“I’m pissed at you for taking care of her and not me.”
An honest-to-God growl broke out of his body. Sorry, lady. Strike four. Kindness above all else was Finn’s motto – helping those who couldn’t help themselves, loyalty to your friends, and not leaving a man behind. He pinched the bridge of his nose, probably torn between kicking her to the curb and taking her home himself. “Just go.”
Kicking her to the curb it was.
“Nothing going on between you, my ass,” The Date muttered as she turned on her heel and strode toward her car.
Molly couldn’t make out Cleo’s expression in the darkness, but she could almost hear her “another sign from the universe” thoughts. Damnit. She’d have to tell her opinionated bestie to stop thinking so loudly.
Finn rotated Molly’s foot in a circle and back again. He flexed it up and down. While it ached, it was tolerable. “I think you got lucky.”
“Sure I did.”
“I don’t think it’s broken – that’s a good thing, right?”
Molly groaned into her palm. “It’s just not my day. It could be raining titties and I’d still get hit in the head by a dick.” She glowered at him, still not ready to forgive him for relegating her so far into the brother’s friend zone.
He chuckled. “But you like dick. I’d offer to take you home but…” He jerked his chin at Cleo.
“It’s fine. I don’t want to burden my brother’s best friend.”
He winced like she’d slapped him hard across the face. His nostrils flared and he dropped his voice. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” It was never fine when a woman said it was fine, but she swiveled in her seat and tucked her legs into the car before grabbing her shoe from his hand. “Thanks for checking out… my foot.” Her cool voice was laced with the acid bubbling low in her stomach, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Molly…”
“Don’t. Like I said, it’s fine.”Fight for me.
He hesitated, pained eyes and creased forehead, he nodded and stood. “Catch you ‘round, MoMo. Get some ice on that foot, ‘kay?” He closed the door and walked away.
Cleo slid into the driver’s seat and took the steering wheel but didn’t move or speak. Finn’s car didn’t move either.
“I know.” Molly sighed.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking it.” Her foot throbbed, but it didn’t come close to the ache in her chest. She should have kissed him. She should have grabbed him and macked on him until he forgot her brother even existed.
Instead she’d hurt him.
He cared, that much was obvious, but until she made a move, until she opened the door and took a peek through the crack, she’d never know if he felt the same way she did. But did she have what it took to open the door? What if he didn’t feel the same? What if those near misses were simply that – nothing more? She definitely felt more.
Those eyes said feels, right?
“Is there a small chance you overreacted just now?”
Molly spread her finger and thumb so there was a tiny space between them. “I don’t know why I got so mad when he called me Will’s sister. IamWill’s sister.”
“But you want to be more.”
She still couldn’t say it out loud. “I think I need to get my foot looked at. It really hurts.”
An hour, an x-ray, and some Vicodin later, she curled up in bed, and cried. When she was done crying, she scrolled her inbox. Dick pic after dick pic after dick pic harassed her from the screen.
The door creaked as Cleo entered the room and sat on the edge of Molly’s bed. “Wanna talk about it?”
