Page 1 of Molly

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MOLLY

“Shit, shit, shit,” I mumble to the empty car as I pull into the parking space.

I’m late. I feel like no matter what I do since having Emma, it’s near impossible to get anywhere on time. I’ve got a cheerio in my bra and a coffee stain on my top from trying to race through breakfast before dropping her to my best friend, Penny, and I still got here three minutes late.

I met Penny in primary school when we were five, and I moved in with her and her mum when I was sixteen. Penny is my person. She was there when Emma was born, held my hand through labour, and even gave Em her first bath. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.

As well as practically being a second mum to my girl for the past two-and-a-half years, she’s also my business partner. We co-own Coffee Leaf Cafe, and when one of us is working, the other has Emma. Penny normally picks her up before I head into work, but my appointment today screwed up our schedule, hence my shit show of a morning.

I flip my sun visor down to do a quick check, cringing at my reflection in the mirror. I wipe the smudged mascara from under my eyes and get out the paw-paw ointment I have stashed in my glove box. I dab it on while trying to decide if I should leave my hair in the wavy mess it currently is or tie it up. I rummage through the glove box again. No hair ties.

Wavy mess it is.

My hair is dark brown, comes down to my lower back, and is a bitch to manage, but I love it, even if the colour is a little boring. I play around with it for a few seconds and get it looking somewhat presentable before jumping out of the car and grabbing my purse off the dash. Stumbling across the parking lot, I shove my phone in the back pocket of my acid wash denim shorts and pull them up.

I pause as I get to the footpath to adjust my dark green singlet and take a moment to admire the floor to ceiling windows that make up the storefront ofInked on Agnes. A green neon sign readingTattooShopglows brightly from above the front door, and as I step forward and push it open, a gust of cool air hits me, making me let out a sigh of relief.

I’ve wanted to get Emma’s birth date tattooed on my wrist for over a year now. When this place opened up around the corner, I decided now was as good a time as any.

When my eyes adjust from the blinding sunlight, I take a look around.Holy shit...I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this...

Three large, black pendant lights hang from the ceiling, giving off a warm glow, making the room feel cosy and welcoming. To the right, a red brick wall, covered in mismatched frames, all holding hand-drawn portraits, catches my eye. The others are all off-white, making the red brick the focal point of the room. An incredibly comfortable looking black leather couch rests against the wall, and I have to fight the urge to throw myself down, curl up and take a nap. The coffee table is totally my vibe, made from two wooden stumps and a pane of frosted glass.

As I step forward, a loud thud comes from the back of the shop, pulling my focus from the front. A muffled voice carries down the hallway, and then “My Life” by Bliss n Eso starts playing softly through the room.

Why has no one come out here yet? Did they hear me come in?I am late, aren’t I?

I walk forward, looking for a bell or something to press, but I get distracted and run my hand across the front counter. It’s incredible; made from a beautiful dark wood with the shop’s name burnt onto the front in big block letters. I crouch down to get a closer look and jump when a deep masculine voice calls out, “I’ll be there in one sec.”

“Oh, no worries,” I reply, standing quickly and deciding to take a closer look at the artwork hanging behind me. I let my eyes wander over the pictures, stopping when I get to one of a little boy. He can’t be much older than Emma. The portrait is all in black and white except his eyes. They are bright blue and breathtakingly beautiful. You can see the happiness radiating off him as he smiles, the lines of his face drawn so realistically you wouldn’t know it wasn’t a photo unless you were this close.

I lift my arm to touch it when a throat clears behind me, and I freeze, leaving it hanging mid-air as I slowly turn my head.

Holyshit.

“That’s my nephew, Jake,” he says. His voice is deep and inviting, and I find my gaze drifting to his full pink lips.Yum.

I’m shamelessly staring, mesmerised by the colourful tattoos that curl up his muscular arms and finish at his sharp jawline when he ducks his head a little, smirking. He must be well over 6ft tall because even hunched over like that, he dwarfs my 5’2ft frame. As he smiles, little lines form on the corners of his incredibly pale blue eyes.

Shit, he just said something, didn’t he?

“I-um sorry, what?” I ask, drool pooling in my mouth.

“The sketch.” He nods towards the wall again. I catch his biceps shifting under his thinly stretched black t-shirt as he raises one hand and rubs the back of his neck. “Is of my nephew, Jake.”

“Right, right. It’s beautiful. It looks so lifelike. You’re really talented,” I reply, still mesmerised by his muscular form.

He takes a predatory step towards me. “Pretty girl like you giving me compliments like that, you’ll give me a big head,” he jokes.

His skin is beautifully sun-kissed, and his hair is light brown, trimmed into a neat fade. The longer parts fall onto his forehead slightly, partially covering one raised eyebrow. For a brief, ridiculous moment, I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through it.

I feel my face heat at the thought and clear my throat before speaking again. “I’m Molly Jackson. I’ve got an appointment at, um, nine-thirty.”

He grins, stepping closer to me, holding an enormous, tattooed hand out in greeting. “I’m Ryan. Ryan Anderson.”

I wipe my palms on my shorts, making sure they’re not covered in sweat before reciprocating.

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