Unexpected Gift(45)

“Oh, last time I checked, I wasn’t arguing with a wall! Don’t put this all on me.” I follow Molly up the steps to the nursery and watch her pick up Posie. She sits down in the chair that rests in the corner of the room, and the sunbeams through the window and against Molly's hair as she rocks Posie back to sleep.

I lean against the wall, watching the scene in front of me. She is so good with her. She loves Posie so much, and I love that. It makes me want her that much more.

“Just stay away from me,” she says in a hushed, low, emotional tone.

“I wish I could, but for some reason, my best friend thought it would be smart for us to live together. Damn him. Us being together isn’t good for Posie. This isn’t healthy.” Defeat. Something I have never felt before, but here I am, crumbling under it. I’ve never wanted a person so much in my entire life.

No matter how much we want each other, she will never, ever give me a chance. Fear, anger, and whatever else it is stops her from loving me, but we can’t keep doing this. It’s exhausting.

She lays Posie down in her crib, turns around, and storms past me. Her feet pound on the way down the steps until her bedroom door slams, echoing through the house and temporarily filling the silence. I stay in Posie’s room, staring at the pastel purple walls. I painted them last week and put her name in letter blocks above her crib.

I sigh, meandering toward the chair in the corner that Molly just left. I sit down in the chair and start rocking back and forth. Molly's citrus scent lingers, awakening the hunger I have for her. I rub my hand over my face, wondering just what the fuck Brandon had been thinking.

“Man, if you were here right now, I don’t know if I’d punch you or hug you, because that would mean you’d be here.” I hang my head and give it a light shake. “I want to keep this going. I want to make this work. But I don’t know how to do it with her. She is so damn complicated, Brandon.” I feel like a fool for talking to the air because, in a sad way, I expected answers in return. I slap my hands on my thighs and stand up once more.

“This is stupid. You aren’t there. You are dead, and you aren’t ever coming back.” I make sure to whisper the last words so Posie doesn’t hear me. I know she is too young to remember anything, but I still don’t want her hearing anything negative. Not yet, at least. Not until she is older.

I stand in the doorway and turn my head to the right, staring at the picture frame of Brandon and Amelia on Posie’s dresser. I miss them. I keep the door cracked open and head to my room to put on pants and a T-shirt. My amazing plan to seduce Molly Lowell and make her fall in love with me is ruined.

What I want and what I need are two completely different things. I want Molly, but I don’t need Molly. Even the thought makes me rub the ache in the center of my chest. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” I mumble to myself as I parade down the steps.

The stove top is still on, the grease still popping from high and prolonged heat. I run and turn it off, hissing when a few beads of oil burn my arm. “Damn it,” I say as I turn the knob off and curse the air when I see bacon in the pan. It’s shriveled up and burned—a little too crispy for my liking.

I stare at Molly’s door, wishing this morning didn’t happen.





Chapter Twenty





Molly





“So, stupid.” I wipe the tears from my eyes. I seem to be a never-ending hose lately. I haven’t been able to stop crying. He makes me feel like a teenager all over again—and I hated my teenage years. I flip over onto my back and stare at the ceiling. What does he have over me that I can’t seem to shake?

A knock at the door makes me turn my head and stare at the one thing that separates me and that infuriating, annoying, sexy, intelligent, man. “Molly?” His voice makes me sit up in bed and tighten my arms around my waist.

The door creaks open, allowing the light to illuminate the outline of his body. “Molly, can we talk.”

“What else is there to say, Caden?” I take my shirt sleeve and brush it against my cheek to get the stray tear that fell from the outer corner of my eye.

He steps into my room, keeping the door open so we can hear Posie if she needs us. “I never meant to make you cry.”

I roll my eyes and stand up, scoffing at his audacity. “You know, not everything is about you, Caden.”

“Will you stop? I’m not trying to fight with you.” He takes a step closer, grabbing me by my arms. I try to wiggle free, but he holds onto me tighter. “Stop! Stop fighting me all the time just stop!” He smashes his lips against mine, taking me in a hungry, angry, kind of kiss.

I don’t respond at first. I’m too stunned.

“Kiss me back, Molly,” he pulls his lips away from mine just enough to whisper the words.

“Caden.”

“Stop fighting. Let down the walls. I’m tired. Aren’t you tired?” His forehead presses against mine as his heated breath puffs against my face.

I am tired. I am so tired. Tired of being sad, tired of fighting all the time, tired of looking for excuses to hate Caden, but the longer I try and search for reasons, I don’t find any. And that makes me angrier, at him, at myself, at the damn world. I grip his shirt, the soft cloth feathers over the pads of my fingertips as I lean in.