She was sexy as hell—round ass, slender waist, nice big tits—but it was clear that she didn’t get around.
She wasn’t out fucking randoms.
She wasn’t a barfly.
The woman was a single parent and had a good job.
She was old lady material.
Wife material.
Fuck.
I should have never walked up to her at the bar.
“It’s just weird, you know?” Molly said, throwing her arms out to her sides. “I’ve known you forever, so I feel like I know you. But I don’t, really. We were friends in grade school—everyone’s friends in grade school! But you could be a total douche now.”
“Are you asking if I’m a douche?”
“No!” she blurted, eyes wide. “I’m just saying I feel like I know you, but I really don’t.”
“I’m the same guy you grew up with,” I murmured, taking another step closer. Fuck, she was cute. I wanted to bite her, make her whimper for me to stop and then beg me to start again.
“Do you want to watch a movie? Let’s watch a movie!” she suggested out of nowhere, spinning around and racing toward the nice-as-shit entertainment set up she had going.
“Nice TV,” I said in surprise. How the hell had I missed the massive flat screen mounted on her living room wall?
“Thanks,” she chirped, grabbing a couple remotes and flopping down onto the couch. “I’m an only child, so my dad goes a little overboard on birthday gifts.”
“That right?” I asked, moving toward the couch.
“I know, I know. So why do I live in a trailer, right?” she asked with a small smile. “He’d totally support us—no question. But I want to do it on my own. I have a good job, so there’s no reason for him to be paying my bills.”
Complete Old Lady material.
I was so fucked.
“You like being a nurse?” I asked as I sat down beside her. I wanted to wrap my arm around her, but I was pretty sure she’d bolt off the couch with some excuse to leave the room.
“I love it,” she answered. “I like helping people, and the human body is freaking fascinating and gross.” She laughed. “Really gross. But that’s what’s cool about it.”
“Did you—”
“How’s your mom?” she asked at the same time.
“My mom?” There went the half-chub I’d been sporting since I’d seen her in the bar earlier.
“Yeah—I loved her when we were kids,” Molly said, leaning her head back against the couch and rolling it toward me. “She always brought the best snacks and when I’d stand next to her, she’d run her hand down the back of my head like she was smoothing my hair down.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She sighed, giving me a sleepy smile as she lifted the remote in her hand toward me. “You pick.”
She was going to fall asleep. We knew it, but instead of getting up to leave and letting her go to bed, I took the remote from her hand and turned on the TV.
“How about 300?” Molly asked as I scrolled through the cable listings.
“Really?”
“I’ll probably be asleep before anything actually happens,” she said, quietly laughing.
“You want me to go?” I looked down at where she’d curled herself into a ball on the couch.
“Not really.”
“Alright.” I reached down and pulled at the laces of my boots, breathing a sigh of relief when I pulled them off and my socks weren’t stained and didn’t smell like ass. “Come here,” I murmured, pulling Molly against my side.
I was in the fucking Twilight Zone.
I tried to remember the last time I’d spent time with a chick when I hadn’t been getting into her pants—but I didn’t have even one memory. From the time I was fourteen years old and I’d realized how soft women’s bodies were, I’d had one end game. Getting off.
There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening with Molly as she sleepily leaned into me.
I hadn’t even kissed her.
“Oh, I forgot about the uniforms in this movie,” Molly murmured with a low hum. “Look at those muscles.”
I froze, glancing down at her as her eyes widened.
Then I covered her face with my hand. “Aren’t you falling asleep?” I grumbled. “Better shut those eyes.”
Less than fifteen minutes later, her body was like a noodle, and her head was sliding farther and farther down my chest with each breath she took. There was no way she was comfortable like that, but she slept right through it.
Screw it.
“Will?” Molly asked as I lifted her up so I could stretch out on the couch next to her.
“Still here,” I said quietly, kissing the top of her head.
“Oh, good.”
Then she was out again—even as I moved her limp arms and legs around so she was lying against the back of the couch and covering me like a blanket.
I was such a pussy. If any of the boys had seen me then, they would have given me shit about it for the rest of my life.