Page 30 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

Molly’s thumb shifts back and forth on my arm, distracting me. My dick decides he’d like a stroke too. I try to tell him Molly and I are having a moment, but he’s not used to me ignoring him in favor of conversation.

“You know what? I do,” she answers, sounding as shocked as I am to hear it.

Her trust feels like a gift she’s given me. A very delicate gift that somehow weighs a lot due to its importance. I want to hold it carefully, making sure I don’t damage it. I put my other hand on top of hers, squeezing her fingers.

“Go out with me, Molly. On a real date.”

Her eyes flare with surprise, but she doesn’t say no right away. She licks her lips again and I almost let a groan slip out. “I don’t know. That might be against this realtor client relationship we have going.”

“Then you’re fired.”

“Bobby!” She tries to pull her hand back, but I don’t let her go.

I grin. “I’m kidding. But seriously, it’s either go on a date with me or you’ll be signing up for an endless amount of house showings, just so I can see you. Seems like even your boss would agree a date is a better use of your time.”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“If that’s what it takes, fluffernutter,” I fire right back.

“That nickname is not going to work.” I raise an eyebrow at her obvious attempt to deflect and she sighs. “Let me think about it?”

I pick her hand up and bring it to my mouth, kissing the soft skin of her knuckles. “Take all the time you need.” Then I put her hand back in her lap. “As much as I’d like to drive you home, you brought your own car.”

She jolts back, looking outside the passenger window to her beat up Kia parked next to mine. She chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re distracting, Mister Whiskers.”

I lunge for her, but she slides out of Wolverine with a squeal. Her laughter carries on the breeze as she heads for her car.

Chapter Fourteen

Molly

“It’s notthatfunny,” I insist for the second time.

Ramona puts a finger up telling me to hold on a sec while she continues losing her absolute shit. I sigh and turn my attention to the sidewalk café around us. A few customers dart furtive glances our way—I mean, it does sound like Ramona might be choking on something, not that I’m that lucky—but the rest ignore us while my friend laughs her ass off at me.

“Oh,” she finally manages, “It absolutelyisthat funny, Molly. Or should I call you Mrs. Robinson?”

I knew I shouldn’t have confessed everything to Ramona, but since I’m due to see Bobby again in an hour, I was at my wit’s end.

“I’ve decided you’re no longer my best friend,” I respond as I lift my cardboard coffee cup to my lips. It’s a treat to go out for coffee, but this conversation warrants it. My mind was pretty much blown by that kiss with Bobby, and now I don’t know if I’m coming or going.

Ramona finally straightens in her seat and it only takes a few more sighs to tamp down her hilarity. “That’s probably earned. When you said Coco signed you up for a dating app, I should have known it was Catnip–and that you’d assume it was a dating app for cat ladies.”

“Thank you!” I nod. “You know I count on you for these things. I mean, if it weren’t for you, I would still think the acronym IYKYK literally means ‘Ick. Yuck.’”

“Oh.” She stirs a sugar packet into her coffee. “And don’t forget when you thought TBF was referring to my tuberculosis status. Why would I go around texting people about TB?”

“You’re a nurse!” I attempt to defend myself. “Honestly, what is it with everyone feeling the need to shorten everything? Use your words, people!”

“No offense, but you sound old when you say things like that,” she offers, straightening her glasses on her nose.

“Iamold!” I remind her before dropping my voice low and leaning into the tiny café table. “Too old to date a twenty-eight-year-old beautiful hockey player, that’s for sure!”

Ramona snatches up her own cup and meets me halfway. “Who happens tolikethe fact that you’re old, you nasty cougar, you.”

“Seriously, Ramona, what am I supposed to do with this?” I gesture at our surroundings as if Bobby is sitting at the next table over.

“I guess that depends. How was the kiss?”

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