by Mignon Mykel
“Yeah.” Her frown was back, but I didn’t have it in me to sit there and analyze it. I moved away from the counter and toward my room, but before I pushed through my bedroom door, Molly’s voice stopped me.
“Mikey.”
I looked back over my shoulder. She was standing near the stool I’d just vacated.
Her face a mask of confusion, she started at me—again. But then shook her head and looked down. “Never mind.”
With that, I pushed into my room and closed her out.
Chapter Twelve
Molly
“This is a terrible idea,” I told my reflection, even though the words were for Asher. My head moved as the stylist did a full blow-out to my hair, but even with my eyes locked to the mirror, I wasn’t seeing the stylist. I wasn’t seeing me.
Heck, I was hardly even hearing the noises of the salon Asher dragged me to.
Asher, sitting beside me and getting her waves tamed into nicer curls, laughed. She was planning on a low-side pony—and had been adamant that the tail be over her right shoulder, even though her hair dresser tried talking her into the other side—something about symmetry and Asher’s tattoos and ear piercings. “It’s a fantastic idea. That dress… I mean, Moll, Mikey won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”
I didn’t hear her though. “God, if Mikey sees me, he’s going to be so pissed. Pissed that I lied. Pissed that I chose some fancy venue instead of Anderson.” My eyes darted over the mirror, to Asher’s reflection. “He’s already convinced I’m quitting to go to school—”
“Well, aren’t you? You did say that if he fired you, you’d consider school.”
“And this will only tell him that I don’t really care about Anderson and—”
“Molly.” Asher’s smile was wide and her eyes, amused. “Take a breath.”
“Can I return the dress? I have to return the dress. I can fix this.” I’d leave here, pick up Anderson. He and I could have a pizza and Marvel night. I’d even offer to bring Brandon with! Then the boys wouldn’t have to break their plans, because I was sure they were excited, and—
“You’re not returning the dress. You’re going to get all fancy and made up. You’re going to the Gala. You’re going to have a damn good time. And you’re going to win over Mikey Leeds.”
“He’s going to be so mad…”
“Molly! Listen to me,” she laughed. Asher laughed. She freaking laughed at me! “The only thing Mikey is going to be thinking about is how to keep you around. Promise.”
I shook my head, forgetting the woman pulling my hair in every which direction.
“No. This will be the final wedge. He’s going to tell me to not bother coming back after Christmas. Oh my God! That means I’ll only hang out with Anderson for like…seven more days! I can’t do this. I have to go.” I put my hands on the chair armrests and Asher pointed to my hairdresser.
“Do not let her stand up, Stephanie.” Then, Asher leaned over and slapped at my arm, barely grazing me with her fingers. “Snap together, Molly. Mikey wants you.”
I scoffed at that.
“He does. Trust me.”
“Well, yeah. I guess. I mean, yes. I know. He told me as much. But he doesn’t want me forever and I’m a forever kind of gal. I can’t do a fling, and I can’t do a fling with my best friend’s husband.”
My hair dresser—Stephanie, I guess—stopped pulling at my hair and I saw her look down at me with a confused look.
“She’s dead,” I told her, probably a little colder than I meant, but who was she to judge me?
“I think you’re selling yourself short, and that you’re not giving Mikey enough credit.”
“A pretty red dress isn’t going to make him magically want forever.”
“Well, then… Just come out and have a good time. Hang out with me. Because I really hate these big events. And, because you already got your nails done; you can’t exactly go to the gym looking all dolled up. Let’s not waste the manicure, Moll.”
My gut was telling me something tonight was not going to go according to plan.
I was nervous as hell. What would he think? What would he do? But…
It was one night.
“Fine.”
* * *
My nervousness only grew more when Asher insisted I ride with her and Porter; and, because my car was piece of shit compared to the others that were going to be in the parking lot, I agreed.
But now I was stuck.
I fiddled with my champagne glass as I stood next to Asher at a tall, but small in diameter, round table, taking in the venue.
Excuse me.
The art museum.
The museum itself was beautiful, but the hall we were in was done up to the nines. Chandeliers. Ice sculptures.
And white.
White centerpieces.
White tablecloths.
White bulbs decorating the Christmas trees, strategically placed around the hall.
This was no dark affair.
Oh no.
The lights were on, the walls were white, the décor white, too. So much white.
If Mikey were to look around, he’d find me easily.
Hell, I found him the moment he walked through the doors, looking handsome as ever in his dark suit. Head to toe, black, but with a silver bow tie.
“I didn’t think it would be so bright in here,” I told Asher in hushed tones. There was a string quartet playing in the corner, with the occasional piano melody, but it was still relatively quiet in the room.
No one was speaking too loudly.
You could have a conversation without raising your voice.
And therefore, it was too quiet for me.
Nervously, I pulled up at the strapless top of my dress with one hand, then switched the champagne flute to my other so I could do the same on the left side.
“I didn’t really either,” she answered. “But I suppose. It’s a gala. I think those are synonymous with bright and fancy.”
“There’s a lot of people here.” I looked around. “The hall is probably at max capacity.”
“Which is awesome.” Asher nodded, then startled when Porter walked up behind her, sliding his hands from her hips to rest over her stomach.
He pressed a kiss in front of her ear before speaking. “You ladies having fun?”
I got to witness Porter’s surprise at Asher’s dress. She hadn’t veered too far off from her usual dark choice, choosing a beautiful, rich green dress that made her eyes pop. The dress, like mine, was strapless, as well as floor length, but hers had an intricately beaded corset.
I’d been envious of Mikey’s love for Trina.
I was wishful for the love I saw so often, in this room of hockey players and their other halves.
But what I witnessed when Porter saw Asher nearly two hours earlier?
It wasn’t what I’d been expecting.
I mean, I knew the man loved his wife with everything in him.
His reaction though…
It almost put to shame the adoration I’d, once upon a time, witnessed in Mikey’s eyes for Trina.
And since arriving, he didn’t leave Asher alone for longer than ten minutes at a time. I also realized why Asher had her pony over her right shoulder; it was because Porter favored her left side.
It was cute.
Disgustingly cute.
“The turnout is amazing,” I said, looking around the room again.
Porter nodded. “It is. Mom would love it.”
I wanted to ask how she was doing, but I knew this wasn’t the right place for that. Earlier, Asher shared that they moved Ryleigh to hospice; it wouldn’t be much longer.
Which only made the strength the Prescott family had even more profound to me.
That they could all be here—the sisters, too; I saw Avery making her way around the room a little bit before—even though their mom and dad were back in their home state of Wisconsin.
I watched my friend get a tight hug from her husba
nd, and another kiss to the cheek, before he went off to mingle again. Asher watched him walk away, a small smile on her face but still, a touch of sadness in her eyes.
“Anyway,” Asher finally said, bringing her attention back and away from Porter. “I think it’s time for you to pull up your big girl thong and go find Mikey.”
Her words shocked me, and I stuttered. “Excuse me?”
“Go find Mikey,” she said, a push to my shoulder. “I mean, you probably know where he is. I’ve seen you searching the place.”
“I—No, I haven’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I drained the last of my champagne.
“Then let me help you out. He’s staring at you.”
My eyes widened at her. “He is not.” But I followed her line of sight and…
There he was.
I could feel his stare.
It wasn’t a hateful stare.
It wasn’t a curious stare.
It was a…
Asher leaned in toward me and whispered, a sing-song tone to her voice. “He thinks you’re gorgeous. He wants to kiss you—”
My face was bright red. “Okay, Miss Congeniality. That’s enough.”
“He wants to smooch you.”
I backhanded-slapped at her, as Mikey began to make his way through the crowd. “Shush, Asher.”
“He wants to hug you.”
I may have been bright red, but Asher still got me to laugh. “Do you have that entire quote memorized? Geez, Asher.”
She shrugged, a smug smile on her face. “I like me a good Sandra Bullock movie. What can I say.”
“At least you weren’t rain dancing to sweat dripping down…” I stopped myself, because Mikey was within hearing distance. “You know.”
“Down my balls,” Asher gladly finished—and Mikey had to have heard, because there was the smallest of stumbles to his steps.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled, dropping my head.
Asher, laughing, rubbed her hand over my shoulder blade. “You got this. I’m going to seek out my sexy husband again. Maybe sneak up on him for once.”
Then she was gone, and Mikey was there, and my heart tripped in my chest.
“Balls?”
Not what I was expecting to be the first words from his mouth.
“Quoting Sandra Bullock,” I managed to say without croaking.
He nodded twice, slowly, before dropping his eyes down over me—even slower than his nod had been. “So. Plans Wednesday, huh?”
“Asher made me.” I had my hands wound together in front of me, and I was playing with one of my gel-polished nails.
“You look beautiful.”
“You do too.” I shook my head. “I mean, thank you.”
“Can I grab you another drink?”
I shook my head. I’d only had one, and already my mind was swimming. I didn’t need another to further cloud my thoughts.
“I’m sorry. I know I should be with Anderson—”
“No, I’m glad you’re here.” He rested an elbow on the table. “Really glad.”
“Oh?”
He nodded, looking down at his hands—an odd showing of hesitancy. Mikey Leeds wasn’t a hesitant man. “I was a bit of an ass the other night.”
My brows drew together, and I shook my head.
He nodded. “I was. I keep thinking, keep hoping, that I can convince you that we can move forward, that this is how everything is supposed to play out, but I know you were incredibly close to Trina. I hear you when you say you don’t want to disservice her memory that way. I get it. I do. But I keep having these hopes, and then I came home and you weren’t ready to bolt, and I’d thought…” His voice drowned out as he looked away.
But then he was looking at me again. “I thought maybe you decided differently. But then, when you said you had plans for tonight and making plans for Anderson so you didn’t have to be with him, I just immediately assumed you were still leaving.”
“I was only ever planning on leaving because you said—”
“I know. I know.” He reached for my hand, and I was too shocked to not let him take it. “I wasn’t the most eloquent in my asking, no. And I will absolutely respect your decision, but I wanted to tell you…”
I held my breath, even though my lips had parted. He’d dropped his eyes again and I could feel as he played his thumb over the bumps of my knuckles.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off his face though.
“I wanted to tell you that you’re our family too.” My gasp was barely audible, but when he looked up, his green eyes were surprisingly glassy. “It would be selfish of me to take from you what you don’t want to give. And I’d hate like hell if I did something to drive you away. I would never forgive myself if I was the cause Anderson lost the only female role model he truly has. You’re good for him. You’re good for us. I know Anderson doesn’t need a nanny much longer, but I still want you around. I want you to go to school, finish your degree or start one or whatever the hell you’re planning, but I want to you to still be around.”
“I don’t…” I didn’t have anything to finish that thought with.
My brain was mush.
My heart, an oversized organ in my chest, racing in an erratic pattern.
And my lungs, unable to take a full breath.
I could have sworn I heard the smallest of laughs—one I recognized and fought the need to look around the room for, even though it had a French tilt…but it couldn’t be. My mind was playing tricks on me. Sending me Trina’s voice at a time I was daring to think about Mikey in terms other than as my employer.
But Mikey was talking again, and I was breathing for his words.
“The house would be empty without you. Hell, it’s empty whenever you’re not there now. I want you there, Moll. Every day. The thought of you being gone…” He shook his head, frowning. I wanted to run my thumb over the ridges in his forehead, but I couldn’t move. Could hardly breathe. “I want you to try. Again, that’s selfish of me, but could you? Do you think you could try?”
Chapter Thirteen
Mikey
I’d never been more nervous in my life.
Not when I left home at seventeen.
Not for my first date with Trina.
I hadn’t even nervous when I proposed to her.
Moving forward in life with Trina had been easy, too easy.
Nothing—not a damn thing—was easy when it came to Molly.
But I had to lay it out. I couldn’t keep pussy-footing around it.
I either admitted to us both that I wanted her, I wanted us, I wanted tomorrow…
The very things that I’d convinced myself I didn’t want anymore, after losing Trina—I wanted with Molly.
“And if I do try? If we try? What happens when it ends?” Molly finally said softly.
I squeezed her hand. “You can’t write it off before it’s even begun.”
“Mikey, you loved Trina. So much. I’m not sure you have that in you for someone else.” Her voice was even softer now, and I could see in her eyes that what she said, she thought was true.
“Every time I’ve pushed you away,” I answered back, shaking her hand gently with each point. “Every time you’ve left…you’ve come back. That has to mean something.”
“Yeah, that I’ve a glutton for punishment.”
“Or that with me is where you’re supposed to be.”
“Mikey, it’s not right.” She shook her head and looked away.
“Why do you fight it so hard, Moll?” I asked, my voice barely over a whisper.
When she looked at me again, it was with determination on her features. “Because I refuse to lose what little I already have. Can’t that be okay? Can’t that be enough?”
“What are you afraid of?” I dared her.
“You said you’d let me say no.”
“I need a better reason than you’re scared.”
“Fine,” she said, purpose in her voice but tears in her eyes. God, I was suddenly tired
of making her cry. “Because you won’t ever love me like you loved her. And I don’t expect you to.”
“No, Moll, I wouldn’t love you like I loved Trina,” I confessed, “but I’d love you for you. I love you for you. I love you, Molly.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think them, but they were true.
So damn true.
I loved Molly and had for years.
She shook her head, but her eyes filled faster, tears falling over her lower eyelids before she could even blink. I reached out to cup her face in my hands, my thumbs catching the salty drops.
“I do,” I whispered roughly. “I have. God, Moll.” I shook my head lightly but refused to let my eyes leave hers. “When you came to the house, what, three years ago? When you told me you were engaged? It was the second worse day of my life.” She was shaking her head in my hands again. “It was. I’d finally come to realize that the reason I wasn’t moving on in life was because of you, and I was convinced that the only person who would help me find love again, would be you. And that of any person in the world, any woman I would ever cross paths with, you were the one that Trina would approve of. You’ve been more than Anderson’s nanny for years. Years, Molly. Do you hear me?”
Her eyes were still overfilling, tears still falling down her cheeks and catching on my thumbs, but she nodded. “Years,” I said again, needing her to understand. “Anderson needs you, but dammit, Molly, I need you too.”
“Because the house doesn’t function without me,” she tried to bite out, but her emotions didn’t allow the sarcasm to hit as hard as I was sure she intended.
“An excuse, Moll.” I dropped my forehead to hers, and she closed her eyes. “Life doesn’t function without you. You’re the voice of reason in the house. You’re the reason Anderson is a damn good kid, and you know it. Yeah, we’d be able to survive without you, but I don’t want to.”
When she opened her eyes to look up at me, I shook my head, rocking my forehead over hers. “I don’t want to.”
I felt her hands timidly grab the front of my dress shirt, pulling it away, just slightly, from my body.
“Molly.” I needed her to say something.
Anything.
Say something, push me away, pull me close…
