Wanting him was only part of the problem. She’d also freaked out mid make-out. Molly still wasn’t sure what had come over her. One moment she had been thoroughly enjoying locking lips with the delicious Owen to the point where she was wet with desire and nearly mad with the need to rip his shirt off so she could touch the warmth of his skin, then the next she’d panicked. It had crashed over her hard and taken them both by surprise. She’d been borderline psycho. Molly closed her eyes, desperately trying to erase the memory. She could still hear the echoes of Owen’s apologies.
She wanted to call to Tiffany and Mackenzie, to beg them to quit fighting so they could comfort her. Ice cream sounded good right about now. She missed them and prayed that they could somehow get over this bullshit. Didn’t they value their friendship the way she did? Molly had felt lost the whole week, as though her entire world was off balance. Mackenzie and Tiffany made walking the tightrope of life bearable and possible. God, how she wished they were hanging out tonight. It was Friendship Friday and here she was, all alone. Wiping away tears that had suddenly surfaced for the umpteenth time that day, Molly threw her comforter over her head. Can Friday just end already?
* * * *
The next morning it was still drizzling, the dark gray hue finding its way inside her home. The rainwater was streaking the windows of Molly’s apartment. She didn’t mind the lack of light that the day was providing since she wasn’t exactly feeling all sunshine and rainbows herself. Molly sat at her dining table, clutching a jumbo mug of coffee. It was her third cup of the day, and her stomach was beginning to ache. She needed to eat something, to counteract the wicked amount of caffeine that was sloshing inside her empty belly. Unshowered and still in her pajamas, even though it was close to noon, she couldn’t care less that she looked like a hot mess. She’d already witnessed just how awful she appeared when she’d visited her bathroom just moments ago. Her scary reflection had revealed crusty mascara clinging to her eyelashes, smudged eyeliner giving her horrible raccoon eyes, the skin near them puffy from all the crying. She looked like absolute hell.
Her oversized smartphone was in front of her and she was scrolling through her newsfeed on her favorite social media page, noticing several new ‘likes’ for a fresh edit she’d posted yesterday before her encounter with Owen. It made her smile. At least something was going well. The phone started to vibrate against the wooden table. Tiffany’s face appeared. It was one of Molly’s favorite pictures. Tiffany had her tongue out, looking every bit a spoiled child, but adorable as hell. Typical Tiffany. Molly recalled when they’d snapped it. They’d been drinking—no surprise there. It had been the end of summer, and the lighting had been perfect. They had so many good memories. Her heart started to ache. It had only been a little over a week since everything had gotten flipped upside down, but it felt like an eternity. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
“Hello,” Molly answered. She swallowed another sip of coffee, instantly regretting it as the liquid soured her stomach.
“Hey, what are you up to?” Tiffany asked, as though nothing were wrong.
“Um, nothing much. You?”
“I want to go out tonight.”
Molly loved it when they would meet up at one of their homes and pre-drink while getting ready to hit the town for a night full of dancing and ogling men. The three of them would fight over a section of the bathroom mirror and help fix each other’s hair, all while a boom box blasted out tunes from their childhood and they sang along to their favorite eighties songs. Molly had taken mental snapshots, scrapbooking these special memories. She had also taken her fair share of actual pictures. After all, that was what she did. Photographs helped Molly catalog and treasure those happy and silly moments. She held on to them, those precious glimpses of their friendship frozen in time, forever, on film. She couldn’t escape the sudden urge to grab her photo albums and reminisce.
“Molly?” Tiffany said a little louder, grabbing Molly’s attention.
“Huh?” Molly had been lost in the past, a pleasant escape.
“Well?”
“Hell yeah, let’s go out.” She felt like she was trying to grab hold of the tail of a comet, wanting to snatch that excitement that she’d always had when the girls went out. “Want me to call Mackenzie?”
“Um, I was thinking, maybe just me and you?” Tiffany’s voice dropped to an almost inaudible volume.
“Come on. How much longer are you guys going to keep up this nonsense?”
Tiffany released a long, exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know, Molly. She hasn’t called me to apologize yet.”
“Well, you haven’t called her, either.” Molly tried to carefully point out.
“I sent her a text and she didn’t even bother to respond. What more can I do?”
“When did you send a text?” Molly was shocked that neither Mackenzie nor Tiffany had mentioned this until now. She’d assumed there had been literally not one bit of communication.
Tiffany answered, annoyance obvious in her response, “After I had coffee with you. I felt awful, so I reached out.” Molly could hear Tiffany take a deep breath. “Look. I don’t want to fight with her or you. I love you guys. But I think it’s a little rude that she couldn’t even text me back, don’t you?”
“Yeah, you’re right. She should have, especially if you had extended the olive branch.”
“So can we please just go out and have a good time?”
“Without Mac?”
“Yes, please.”
Molly couldn’t help but feel as though she were going behind Mackenzie’s back. Not that she wasn’t allowed to live her own life or do something without Mackenzie in attendance, but, in an odd way, it felt dishonest and wrong. This was something they should be doing together, the three of them. There was no point in forcing the issue with Tiffany. She wasn’t happy about it, but Molly relented. “Fine.”
“Awesome. I’ll meet you at your place at seven. Cool?”
“Okay, sounds good.” It would sound tremendously better if Mackenzie were joining them. Maybe over some dancing and drinks, she could convince Tiffany to try to mend things with Mackenzie again. Or, at the very least, perhaps Molly could get a sneak peek at the text that Tiffany claimed to have sent. Molly couldn’t deny she had some doubts about that. She still didn’t know why Tiffany hadn’t mentioned it until now.
After finally getting herself up and accomplishing some things around the apartment, it was time to get ready to go out. She spent a long time under the hot water in her shower. After scrubbing her face, ridding it of the old make-up, Molly just let the water cascade over her. She could feel her stress escape with the steam that had formed into a thick fog in the tiny bathroom. The soft floral scents from her shampoo and body wash had also relaxed her. With her spirit renewed, she was actually looking forward to dressing up and hitting the town. It would do her good to get out.
She lathered conditioner into her hair and, for some reason, an image of Owen appeared behind her eyelids. The kiss, the freak-out… They stood front and center in her mind. Can’t I just have a moment of peace without that man invading my thoughts? She would make sure that tonight she would forget about him. Vodka had a lovely way of making her forget a lot of things.
Molly was humming as she towel-dried her hair. Wearing only a fuzzy aqua-colored robe, she stared at her closet. Now this could prove to be a challenge. She was sorting through her rack of tops when she heard her phone ring.
An image of Mackenzie appeared on her cell phone. Crap.
“Hey, Mac,” she answered. Should she mention that she was going out with Tiffany? Ugh. She hated that Tiffany didn’t want Mackenzie to go.
“Hey,” Mackenzie replied, her voice soft. “I haven’t heard from you, so I’m just checking in.”
“Oh, thanks. No, I’m good here,” she said a little too quickly, instantly feeling guilty.
“You okay? You sound a little strange.”
“Totally fine.”
There
was a brief pause before Mackenzie spoke. “Good. You want to grab dinner or something?”
Oh no. The fork in the road. Should I be honest and just tell Mackenzie or lie to avoid hurting my friend? She could strangle Tiffany for putting her in this position.
“You know—” she started to explain.
“Let me guess…Owen?” Mackenzie asked.
Well, there was that option. She could totally use him as a scapegoat, but was that really fair to him or to Mackenzie? It would still be lying.
“No, actually, Tiffany just asked me to hang out with her.” There. She had been honest, but, as she waited for Mackenzie to respond, somehow being truthful didn’t feel all that great. Would she have felt better if she’d kept the truth from Mackenzie? Hell, maybe.
“I see. Well, you two have fun. I’ll catch you later.” Mackenzie hung up before Molly could answer.
So much for honesty being the best policy. Molly knew one thing for sure. She was going to be drinking quite a bit tonight. She was tired of thinking and worrying. Molly needed to drown her sorrows, let her brain soak up some alcohol and maybe then it would just hush up for a while.
* * * *
The music was blaring. Thick and heavy beats emitted from the live band as they belted out songs Molly had never heard. It wasn’t the first time she’d been to see a band and had no idea who they were, but that was how bands got discovered in Seattle—in dark and sweaty venues. Tonight, though, the exchange of body heat was making Molly feel kind of gross. She slurped down another drink in a feeble attempt to feel better. The fluorescent-pink straw siphoned the last remaining drops. Molly was starting to get a slight buzz, but her feet were beginning to ache from standing and dancing in the crowded club. She definitely was not as young as she used to be.
“How much fun is this?” Tiffany was still bopping along to the music as she nursed her own drink.
Fun wasn’t exactly how Molly would describe it. The band was mediocre, at best. The drinks were more expensive than she remembered and she couldn’t escape the guilt she felt that Mackenzie wasn’t there with them. She should be suffering too.
“You want another?” Tiffany asked, her own glass now dry and empty.
“Sure,” Molly answered. Why not? Maybe the booze will make the night better.
Molly noticed two bar stools had become free and she made a beeline for them. After she mounted one of them, her feet instantly thanked her. Much better. Note to self… Three-inch heels are now only for occasions that permit a great deal of sitting, regardless of how tall or cute they make me look.
“You don’t want to dance anymore?” Tiffany had to scream over the thumping bass.
“I’m good. I can’t believe how old I feel. When was the last time we went out to see a band or go dancing?” Molly shouted back.
Tiffany shrugged, the sequins on her top glittering with her every movement. Molly frowned slightly. She’d thought this would’ve been a good time. It had started off that way, but as the night had worn on, the excitement had lost all its charm and dazzle, and, as Molly yawned, she realized she was more than ready to call it in.
Tiffany playfully slapped Molly’s thigh. “Quit that yawning. It’s still early.”
Molly was ready to complain when she noticed two men starting to approach in their direction. She signaled to Tiffany, who smiled widely. They probably just wanted to order a drink at the bar. They can’t be remotely interested in two old maids. Molly was wrong.
The taller of the two spoke first. “Can we buy you lovely ladies a drink?”
They were working as a pack, a team, trying to take down their prey together. The wingman nodded to Molly, but his eyes drifted over to Tiffany with obvious interest. The one that stood in front of Molly was good-looking, and, under normal circumstances, she’d be happy to accept a drink from him, but he was all wrong. Was it the dark-blond hair that his hand had just run through or the deep cocoa-brown eyes that were waiting anxiously? The more she stared at him, the more realized there wasn’t anything wrong with him at all. He just wasn’t Owen.
“I’m good, thanks,” Molly replied politely and held up the drink that Tiffany had just gotten her. She could feel Tiffany’s questioning eyes. Molly was surprised at herself too. Any normal woman with half a brain would be willing to entertain this guy’s offer. But Molly was anything but normal, and, God knew, she wasn’t working with a full brain.
“Are you sure? You two seem a little lonely, and we’d love to keep you company.” His voice was slick. He was the smooth one.
Then, without warning, her brain misfired the way it always did, and she could hear Owen’s voice. ‘Couples fight and couples make up.’
Molly straightened her posture and quipped, “Our boyfriends might be back soon.”
He raised his hands and apologized, “Our mistake. You both have a lovely evening.” The tall and smooth operator and his wingman retreated quickly, moving on to stalk another set of prey.
“What the hell was that about? Boyfriends?” Tiffany asked after the two men were out of earshot. “They were kind of hot, and last time I checked, I didn’t have a boyfriend and neither did you.”
“I know, right?” She stared after the guys. They had started talking to two other women. That was fast. But that was how the whole dating world worked. It was a meat market, and they had to be quick. If someone wasn’t interested, they moved on to the next possibility. Time was of the essence and couldn’t be wasted on someone if they didn’t jump at the chance. No one wanted expired meat.
“Oh, I see. Owen?” Tiffany wiggled her eyebrows and started to sip her cocktail.
Molly nodded.
“You really should call him tomorrow, you know, seeing how he’s your boyfriend and all,” Tiffany teased, as she let her bright-green straw rest between her teeth.
“Oh, stop. I had to think fast. It’s hard, Tiff. I’m just shit when it comes to relationships. I don’t know how to read men or what to do,” Molly rambled. It was easy to admit that she was a complete failure at relationships, especially to Tiffany, who honestly wasn’t all that much better than Molly.
“Nothing worth having is ever easy, is it?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had anything worth having or anything close to it.” They both laughed and returned to their cocktails. “You ready to go home?” Molly asked, hoping that Tiffany was ready to call it a night.
“Come dance with me, then we can go,” Tiffany begged, her speech a little slurred. Her large eyes were shiny from a mixture of being slightly intoxicated and the lights inside the club.
“Okay, but only for a couple minutes.” The second Molly slid off the stool her feet reminded her just how badly she wanted to go home, but the smile on Tiffany’s face was worth suffering for a bit longer. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
Chapter Six
Molly clutched her phone in the palm of her hand. She desperately wanted to take Tiffany’s advice and call Owen. So what’s stopping me? She sat near one of the windows of her studio, basking in the bright sun. There was not a cloud in the sky and the remarkable view of the surrounding skyscrapers and the waterfront reminded her why the price tag on her studio was so high. She would be able to enjoy the view a little more if she didn’t have this whole thing weighing on her—to call or not to call? Trying to talk herself out of dialing his number, she reasoned that it was the weekend and maybe he had plans. She caught a glimpse of the time on her phone. It was a little after one. Deep down, she knew he was probably waiting to hear from her. Inhaling then releasing the air slowly, Molly prepared to dial when her buzzer chimed loudly. Saved by the bell, literally.
Thankful for the distraction, she hopped out of her seat with a little too much enthusiasm. When she opened one of the large doors, it was Mackenzie who smiled at her.
“Hey,” Molly said softly. The guilt she felt for going out last night tightened in her gut.
“I was in the neighborhood and figured you’d probably be here.”<
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They entered the studio and Mackenzie gravitated toward the window where Molly had just been sitting.
“I’m glad you stopped by.”
“Are you?” Mackenzie threw her a knowing look.
“Well…yes, I am.” Molly decided she had been a little unsure, but she needed to see if she could try to talk some sense into Mackenzie.
Molly grabbed another chair and brought it next to hers. “Sit,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mackenzie laughed nervously as she sat and stared out of the window. “I think you have one of the best views in all of Seattle.”
“Well, it’s not cheap. On days like this, though, it’s so worth it.”
Mackenzie cleared her throat, “So, how was last night?”
“In all honesty, not very awesome. When did I get old?” Molly joked, hoping it would melt the obvious tension.
“Around the same time I did.”
“Well, I felt it last night. We went to go dancing and have a couple drinks. It wasn’t long before my feet were killing me. The music was too loud, and I was surrounded by kids.”
“Kids?” Mackenzie eyed her curiously.
“Yeah, twenty-something-year-old brats. I felt like a darn chaperone. But two guys did come up to Tiffany and me.” Molly pointed out with a smirk.
“Really? Like they were looking for a cougar?”
“No. These guys were probably our age,” Molly tried to explain.
“So…scavengers, then?”
“What the hell?”
“You know… Guys that are looking for the leftovers.” Mackenzie winked.
“You’re so mean.” Molly playfully slapped Mackenzie’s thigh.
“So what happened with the guys?”
Molly huffed. “I blew it for us. So, no free drinks.”
“Uh oh.” Molly didn’t say anything as Mackenzie searched her eyes, then a smile appeared on her face. “This is about Owen, isn’t it?”
Reeling in Love Page 7
