Page 16 of Dating the Grump

Molly places a hand on my arm. “Just water for me. He’ll take a beer. The Silver Spoon Crest. And can we please have nachos?”

“Yeah, fine.” She spins on her heel and storms off.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” I growl, eyes narrowed at Molly. “She’s rude as fuck.”

“I know.” Molly gives me a tight smile. “In case you haven’t noticed, most women are rude to me when you’re around, Hunt. They hate me because I’m with you. That’s my life now. Everyone hates me.”

“Jesus.” My heart clenches when I see tears swimming in her eyes. “Molly.”

“It’s fine.”

No, it isn’t fine. There’s nothing at all fine about this. She’s the love of my life. If people can’t treat her with respect, they have no business talking to me. She’s the one I care about, not rude women or men who shoulder their way past her to get to me. They can all fuck off. In fact, I wish they would.

“Goddess, I?—”

“I’ll be right back,” she says suddenly, jumping to her feet.

“Molly, wait. I?—”

She doesn’t give me time to finish. She scurries from the booth, practically running for the bathroom. I watch her go, my heart in my fucking throat.

Fuck. This is bad. Really fucking bad.

I sit back and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I have to fix this because I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her. She’s my life, plain and simple. Without her, nothing else matters. For months, I’ve been a dick, wallowing in self-pity. She snapped me out of it and made me feel alive again. Because of her, I’m actually fucking happy.

Being on the field doesn’t even compare to the way she makes me feel. If I could have my career back, I wouldn’t take it. I’d choose her without hesitation. That’s the kind of serious I am about her. That’s how much I fucking love her.

I slide out of the booth, going after her. One way or another, she’s going to hear what I have to say.

CHAPTER 8

MOLLY

The atmosphere in the Park Avenue Bar feels stifling, the air thick with judgment and whispers. I can feel the weight of every stare and every snide glance aimed my way. Hunt and I are at our usual table, but the easy comfort I usually feel is miles away. The chatter of conversations swirls around me like a storm, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable.

After the waitress collects the menus with an aggressive swipe and turns on her heel, leaving a trail of disapproval in her wake, I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision.

I can’t cry here. Not in front of him, not in front of one of the jealous women making my life a living hell. I slide out of the booth, ignoring everyone around us. Before Hunt can react, I mumble an excuse and walk quickly toward the bathroom while my vision swims with tears.

Once inside, I lock the door behind me and lean against the cool tile wall before exhaling shakily. Hot, unrestrained tears spill over, painting tracks down my cheeks. I don’t sob, but silently cry the tears of the frustration and hurt I’ve been bottling up.

I know I shouldn’t care that everyone hates me because of my relationship with him, but I can’t take the angry stares anymore. The big jerks don’t see the intense connection we share.

The minutes tick by, and once the tears subside, I splash cool water on my face before glancing at the mirror to see the damage. The reflection staring back at me looks tired but more composed. I take a deep breath and harden my resolve. It’s time for me to pull up my big girl panties and fight for my man. I won’t let their jealousy and greed dictate my happiness.

As I push open the bathroom door, I walk straight into Hunt, nearly toppling over from the force. His hands steady me, his touch grounding yet filled with concern.

“Are you okay?” As his eyes search mine, I notice the worry etched into every line of his face.

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. “I’m sorry I ran out on you. It’s just… I can’t handle the way people look at us, the way they treat me. The waitress’s rudeness was the last straw, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself by crying in front of her and the other jerks.”

His expression softens as he pulls me into his arms and holds me close. “You have nothing to fucking apologize for.” Hunt shocks the heck out of me when he takes my hand and pulls me out into the main bar area.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the waitress watching with hate shining from her eyes. My heart pounds away in my chest as I resist the urge to listen to my fight-or-flight response telling me to get the heck out of this uncomfortable situation.

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