Cleo and Bre laughed. An email appeared on Molly’s phone next to her on the table.
Dear Miss Morrison,
Thank you for your application to ESPN’s summer commentator internship. Unfortunately, we are unable to offer you a position at this time. We will keep your name on file…
“Fuck.”
“What?” Cleo swiped Molly’s phone across the table before Molly could close her mail.
Cleo frowned. “Assholes. Don’t they know who you are? You’ll get the next one. No biggie.” She pointed at the drinks on the table. “Keep ‘em coming, please, Bre. We got some commiserating to do.”
Sabrina nodded, her features somber. She paused like she wanted to say something.
“What is it?” Molly turned her head between Cleo and Bre, what was she missing?
“I was just going to say. If you guys need an alibi… Russ and I already know you like each other. I can’t imagine it’s going to be too easy for the two of you to get alone time together while you’re keeping it under wraps. I just…” She picked up the tray from on top of the table. “If you need cover when you’re dating, we can help.” She nodded, then was gone.
“Romantics.” Molly rolled her eyes again, but the idea of going on a real life date with Finn made her stomach swoosh and flip. With a shake of her head, Molly downed the last of her drink. She had no idea what she was going to do, about the internship of her dreams, or her potential relationship with Finn. But every time she thought of him, her stomach, her heart, and any trace of rational thought shot into the atmosphere. She was so… very… fucked.
***
“Drunken louts.”
Finn stood next to the table, hands on his hips and a wide grin on his sexy-as-fuck face. In fact, there were two Finns. How many mules had she had to drink?
“Day drunken louts no less.” He cupped his heart. “And without me? I’m wounded, Doll.”
Molly gasped and covered her mouth with her palm, then covered his mouth with the other before casting a rueful glance at Cleo.
“What did I say?” Finn looked over his shoulder. “Oh. You don’t want your friend to hear me call you Doll,Doll?You might want to stop touching me, Mini Mo. Your brother is due to arrive here in less than ten minutes and if our skin keeps touching I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”
How did he ignite every cell in her body with one sentence?
“What are we celebrating, Cleo?” He picked up Molly’s half-drank mule and took a swig. “Whisky mules. You ladies know it’s the afternoon, right? Isn’t this like… I dunno… mimosa O’Clock?”
“Commiserating.” Molly held up a finger, wanting to rub it along his damp lips. In fact, she wanted to throw her leg over him and grind up on his lap until he jizzed his pants like a fucking teenager. “ESPN said no.”
Warmth from his hand seeped through her shirt as he stroked her back. “Oh, Doll. I’m sorry. I know you wanted it.”
“Fuck ‘em.” Cleo raised her drink and Finn clinked Molly’s against it.
“Indeed. Fuck ‘em. They don’t know what they’re missing. Don’t they know who you are?”
“Thasssssss what I said!” Cleo clinked her drink against Finn’s, or at least tried to. It took three attempts before the glasses actually connected. Girl. Was.Wasted.
“What in the day-drinking-party do we have here?” Lincoln slid into the booth next to Cleo, who practically mauled his face with her lips. “And why the hell wasn’t I invited? Obi, I do believe these women are intoxicated.”
Finn snapped his hand back from Molly’s body, leaving a profound chill. Why couldn’t he keep touching her? They were consenting freakin’ adults. What business was it of anybody’s if she wanted every inch of Finn’s body stuck to every inch of hers?
The side of Finn’s face called to her to attack it with as much enthusiasm as Cleo peppering kisses on Linc’s. “Molly…” The pained tone to his voice had her eyes snapping up to his. “If you keep staring at me like I’m a s’more on the fourth of July and you want to drag your fucking tongue around my edges, I’m going to drag you out back and fuck you.”
Her jaw dropped. Cleo gasped. Linc spun his head to Finn. “What the actual fuck?”
Ice-cold tendrils curled around Molly’s chest.
“You didn’t know?” Finn pointed an accusing finger at him.
“Know what? That you want to… with…” Linc raked a hand over his pale face. “When the fuck did this happen? And how the fuck are you still alive?”
