Page 17 of A Cuddly Christmas
My stomach sinks. "What do you mean?" I sit down on the side of the antique clawfoot bathtub.
"I got bored."
"Oh god." That's never good for either of us. We get into the most trouble when we’re bored.
"I was only going to peek. I was curious."
"Fill in the blanks here, Molly." I don’t have a clue what she is talking about.
"On your dating app. I logged in to see if you got any hits or whatever."
"Okay." I could care less. She can poke around on there all she wants. When she’s done, she can delete it too.
I don’t have a need for it. I have Paxton now, and I’m no longer fighting what’s happening between us. Even now I hate the space I’ve made and want to go back to him.
"Paxton is on there,” she says, and my shoulders drop.
"I told him he should try the app," I mutter. I already told her this too. I’m disappointed he did it if he was really into me this much. I guess I did it to myself.
"Well, he already had it, so he didn't need to go and get it." Dread starts to seep in at the thought, and I will her words to not be true.
"No, he told me that he's been too busy to date." He shared with me his story of completing a fast-paced college program, graduating, and receiving mentorship before relocating here.
"Yeah, well, men say a lot of shit to get into a girl's pants. Too bad for him I caught his ass before he could try it on you. Sucker!" The line goes quiet. "Agree with me," she says after a beat.
"I can't."
"Holy crap. You've been there five seconds,” she says, and I groan. "Shit, sorry."
“Are you sure?” I don’t want to believe it.
“I mean, there are pictures and such. It looks older and also well used.”
“All right.” What else do I say?
“It could be fake,” Molly says, and a spark of hope blooms. “Unless you tell me he’s got a donkey tattoo.” She snorts a laugh. “Oh god, you went quiet again. He does?” I don’t bother answering because I don’t want to.
“I’m stuck here for the time being.” Tears sting at my eyes, and it pisses me off. I lost my virginity to him. Well, that was kind of my fault, but he came in me. Not only am I not on birth control, but what if he gave me something? He didn’t mention a condom at all. Does that mean he never uses them?
“I’m sorry, Tills. This is my fault.” It’s just like Molly to try and take the blame, but I’m not letting her.
“No, it’s not. If anything, the app was a good thing because now I know. Five minutes ago I was the naïve girl that thought the hot vet in town was into me and my overalls.”
“Your overalls are cute.” Molly comes to my defense. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“That I’m a dummy.”
“You’re not. You’re a hopeless romantic.”
“Hey!”
“Right, I’m supposed to pretend I don’t know that.”
“Thank you.” The line goes quiet, because what do we say?
“I’m sorry,” Molly says again. “When this is over and you can leave, we can make his life hell.”
“Being petty is fun.” Though maybe I’m not so sure anymore. All I feel right now is a sad hollowness in my chest. I don’t want to be sad. I want to be pissed.
