Page 14 of Molly

My mouth drops open. Holy shit. He’s eleven years older than me. Before I know what I’m doing, I burst into a fit of laughter. I throw my head back, and my entire chest vibrates with it.

He sits there, a tiny smile on his face, watching me, before leaning in again and asking, “That funny?”

“Oh, my god! You’re an old man. You’re literally eleven years older than me!” I get out in between breaths, still laughing my ass off.

“Old? Fuck off.” He chuckles along with me.

“Wait, you don’t care that I’m a decade younger than you?” I ask, surprised that he didn’t even flinch when I mentioned our age difference.

“Your online consent form had your date of birth on it. Saw it before I tatted you, Molly. I’ve known you’re twenty-two the whole time. It’s no news to me.”

Oh, that makes sense. Well, if it’s not an issue for him...

I take a deep breath, pull my shit together, and lift my bottle back up to my lips. I take a sip, point it at him, and ask, “What’s your family like?”

A proud smile spreads across his face. “Ma’s feisty as shit, the best woman I’ve ever met. Dad’s a typical dad, likes to barbeque, drink beer, drops some wisdom on me from time to time but doesn’t really get deep. He’s obsessed with Ma, though. Always has been. It used to gross me out as a kid, watching them kiss and fool around all the time, but as I got older, I realised how lucky they were to have that. Been married thirty years, and I’ve never seen them fight. They bicker non-stop, but I’ve never seen them truly angry with each other.”

“They’re lucky,” I say.

He nods and continues. “My older brother, Jordan, got married six years ago. His wife, Lauren, is super sweet, and they had my nephew, Jake, almost four years ago now. She’s pregnant with their second, a few months along. Then there’s my younger brother, Walker. He’s twenty-five, living the single life.”

“Just like his big brother, huh?” I reply, smirking.

He shakes his head, chuckling again as he finishes his beer. “He’s a good lad, just hasn’t found the right girl to tame him yet.”

I hum and lean my head back against the couch cushions.

His face turns more serious. “What was it like growing up with your grandma?”

"Uh,” I pause, trying to figure out the right words to describe my life with her. “It was fine. She did her best. She was really great, but she was already in her late sixties when I started living with her, so it’s not like she had the energy to run around with me or do too much. She tried. My grandpa died before I was born, so I never met him. It was just the two of us, then I met Penny.”

“And your mum never came back?” he asks.

“Nah, she never came back. I barely remember her now. I’ve seen plenty of photos, though. I look a lot like her.”

“And your dad?”

“I, um, I don’t have a father on my birth certificate, and my mum never told my grandma who my dad was so… yeah, not sure on that one.” I take another sip of beer and look away. I can feel his eyes burning into me. When I look back at him, he’s watching me, studying my expression. I blush and duck my head down.

“But you’ve got Kristen, right? Penny’s mum?” he asks, hopefully.

I shrug. “Kristen and I aren’t super close. She’s amazing, but we don’t really talk a lot now, which is fine. She’s the same with Penny. When she met Garry, he sort of became her entire world, and I love that for her. I’ve got Evie and Pen. That’s all I need.”

“And me, now...” he whispers.

I nod and smile, unsure how to respond to that.

He sits up straight and slaps his hands on his knees. “Alright, new topic, we got heavy there for a minute.” His cheesy grin lightens the mood immediately.

Who is this man?

I point my bottle at him. “It’s your turn. You’ve told me about your family and your tattooing so far, but what aboutyou? What doyoulike?”

He tells me about his love of AFL and the Adelaide Crows. I nod along, trying to keep up, but I’ve got zero interest in football, so I don’t know what any of his references mean. I ask him to clarify a few times, but that just leads to more questions, so I give up and we eventually move on to his art.

“I really miss just being a kid and drawing, you know? Not that I don’t love it now, but it’s a job, my business. Ihaveto do it to make a living.”

I nod, and as I go to respond, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I wiggle on the couch to pull it out, making sure it’s not a message from the girls about Emma. Ryan glances over at my lock screen; It’s a selfie of me, Evie and Penny.

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