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Chapter 1
Molly
“He’s looking at you.”
“Shut up,” I hissed, refusing to turn around.
I was uncomfortable as hell in a pair of tight jeans and a tank top that showed more of my boobs than had ever been available for public viewing—and that was saying something, considering I’d spent a year breastfeeding.
When my best friend since grade school had begged me to go out with her, even going so far as getting a babysitter lined up, I hadn’t had the heart to tell her no. I’d known that my day-to-day wardrobe of scrubs wouldn’t cut it in a bar setting, but I hadn’t expected to be so . . . on display. Frankly, I just wanted to sit at the high table in the bar and nurse a few beers before going home and opening up my laptop to watch a couple hours of tipsy Gilmore Girls.
Unfortunately, Mel had different ideas. She’d been scoping out the guys in the bar all night, pointing out the ones she thought had big dicks and rating facial hair on a ten point scale. She was nuts. Outgoing to my introverted. The brunette to my blonde and the angles to my curves. Normally, we balanced each other out pretty well, but I was beginning to wish she was a little more like me and a little less . . . her.
“He’s so hot. So hot. His facial hair is an eleven. Absolutely,” Mel said seriously, looking over my shoulder. “I mean, he was hot in high school, but not that hot.”
“Jesus, will you shut up?” I hissed again.
The back of my neck was burning. I didn’t need her to tell me that Will Hawthorne was staring at me. I could freaking feel it.
I’d only seen him once since high school, even though we lived in the same town, but I knew he was hot. Jesus, he’d been drool-worthy when we were fourteen, and that kind of thing didn’t just go away. Some guys just had it, whatever that it was. It didn’t even matter what they looked like, they were just . . . attractive. They had that undeniable pull that made every woman take a second look. It was the way they held themselves, the way they moved, their confidence.
I think it was referred to as swagger—though I’d never intentionally say that stupid word out loud.
Will hit the jackpot and got both good looks and that magnetic pull. He was at least six feet tall and the lankiness I’d remembered from when we were kids had turned into very broad and muscular shoulders. He had his mom’s dark hair and light brown eyes that I assumed must have come from his dad, though I’d never met the man. He also had a neatly trimmed beard that drew attention to his lips like a freaking flashing neon sign.
“Why the hell is he staring?” Mel murmured.
“Thanks,” I scoffed, giving her a glare.
“No, I mean, you’re hot, but . . .” she trailed off as she glanced over my shoulder again. “He’s really not looking away.”
“For God’s sake,” I finally snapped, turning slightly to look over my shoulder.
It took me a second to find him in the crowded bar. There were a ton of people between us and it looked like he’d come in with a group that he was sitting in the middle of, but the minute I found him, his eyes met mine. Holy shit.
He really was staring.
And then he was slapping some guy on the shoulder as he edged around him, not looking away from me as he started toward our table.
“Now look what you did,” I snapped under my breath as I spun back around in my seat.
“He’s coming over here,” Mel said excitedly, her eyes widening.
I opened my mouth to say something back, but the words caught in my throat as a hand settled on the back of my stool.
“Molly,” Will said, leaning in slightly so I could feel the breath of his words against the side of my forehead.
“Oh, hey, Will,” I replied.
I wanted to pat myself on the back when my words came out all nonchalant, like I hadn’t been talking about him for the past ten minutes.
“What’s up, Melanie?” he greeted my best friend with a little chin lift, making her smile wide.
“Hi, Will!”
Oh, hell. She was totally getting off on this. We’d both known Will since we were kids. I’d started kindergarten with him in Mrs. Nelson’s class, and she’d joined us in Mrs. Hallen’s third grade class. We’d all gone to the same schools, shared a lot of the same classes and had graduated high school together, but to say we hadn’t been on Will’s radar would have been an understatement.
Mel and I hadn’t been social outcasts, not at all. We’d had our little group of friends that we’d hung out with, and we’d done all the things that you were supposed to do—kissing boys and going to dances and bonfires and football games. But Will had been in a completely different social strata. We’d grown up parallel but never really intersecting after the fifth grade, so the fact that he’d remembered her?
