Page 55 of Beautiful Collide

She looks good today too. Oh, who am I kidding? She looks good every day. It would be nice if she could tone it down a little bit for my sanity. As is, I’d be willing to put all the fucked-up shit aside just to feel her come on my dick again.

For a brief second, I allow myself to take her in. Her long brown hair sweeps past her shoulders in bouncy waves, and her soft features are highlighted by a touch of makeup.

A natural beauty.

The kind that makes me forget that she hates my guts until she opens her mouth, and I have no choice but to remember.

It’s like the world is out to get me because she chooses this exact minute—when I’m practically undressing her with my eyes—to look up and catch me.

Her jaw locks, and she narrows her eyes. “What?” she mouths.

Great, I’m busted. Fan-fucking-tastic. Can’t wait to hear what she has to say.

Guess we know how Molly’s mood is today.

Ironically, I’ve watched when she hasn’t seen me watching, and she’s practically the life of the party.

Always smiling. Always laughing. It’s infuriating.

But when she’s near me? Nope. It’s Hate on Hudson Day.

“Nothing.”

She fixes her gaze on me with a glare so icy it could create a larger rink.

“You know, I did you a favor again.”

“How do you figure?” Because clearly, I’ve missed this riveting tale of martyrdom.

“Who do you think took your spot when you decided yet again to be late?”

“If you remember correctly, it hasn’t always been my fault I’ve been late.”

“Whatever.”

“Can’t you just say . . . morning, and then I’d say the same?” I smile broadly, and she practically snarls back. “I can tell you missed me on your trip.”

“I didn’t. I enjoyed Europe immensely. I did miss Cassidy, but you? Nope.”

“Harsh.” I look around the room, then lift my wrist to check the time.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we keeping you? More pressing plans? ’Cause the way I see it, Dane saved your ass by coming in early.”

“It’s not the end of the world. Dane was already here, right?”

“You screwed my schedule. It’s hard enough getting Dane to work after he sent me away all summer. He’s extra grumpy these days, probably because of the new intern, Josie, poor girl, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is—”

“Oh, is there a point? I thought you were just rambling.” This earns me “the look.”

If looks could kill, I’d be dead.

“There’s a point.”

“And that is . . . ?”

She throws her hands in the air. “I forget.”

“Maybe Josie. Have you met her? She’s ho—”

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