Page 73 of Pity Present
But now that I’ve met someone I really like and want to get to know better, I’m forced to consider that maybe Trina knows what she’s doing. She definitely comes up with fresh, out-of-the-box activities—like last night’s group square dancing lesson …
In a rare moment of charitable thinking, I’m about to give mad props to Trina, but there’s a knock on my door. On my way to answer it, I stop in front of the mirror to tame the bedhead I have every morning.
After making sure I’m somewhat presentable, I open the door. It’s early, so I’m surprised to see Molly standing there. She looks gorgeous in her fuzzy red turtleneck sweater and skinny jeans, and it’s all I can do not to pull her into my arms. “Molly.” I step back to let her come in, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she just stands there with her mouth hanging wide open. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“I … um … I’m … well …”
“Having a stroke?” I tease.
She points toward my bare chest and manages to utter, “You’re naked.”
Looking down at my plaid flannel pajama pants, I assure her, “Not naked. I just don’t have a shirt on.”
“Wh … Why? I mean, why? Why don’t you have a shirt on?” I wonder if she’s this flustered with everyone or I just make her nervous. I hope it’s the latter because that would mean she has feelings for me too.
Her expression is so odd, you’d think she’d never seen a man’s bare chest before. “I just woke up. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet.”
She surprises me by saying, “But it’s ten thirty.”
“Are you serious? I never sleep this late.” I step back into the room. “Do you want to come in? I’ll throw on some clothes so we get down to the dining room in time for breakfast.”
“I … um … no. I’ll just stay here.”
“Suit yourself,” I tell her before blowing her a kiss and shutting the door. Molly is adorable when she blushes, which is something she’s been doing nonstop since I opened the door.
Hurrying to my closet, I grab a fresh pair of jeans and a grey cashmere sweater. I barely got the chance to wear warm sweaters in LA, so I’m loving the heck out of doing so now that I’m back in the Midwest. Once I’m dressed, I run into the bathroom and brush my teeth. Then I add a splash of my signature aftershave.
When I step out into the hallway, Molly is leaning against the wall like she’s using it as a support to keep her from falling to the floor. “You ready?” I ask.
“Uh … um …” She leans in toward me and practically inhales my neck. “Y … you smell great!”
I bend down and sniff her back, letting the tip of my nose touch the delicate skin at the base of her neck. Then I lift my head so that my mouth is resting next to her ear. “You smell pretty incredible yourself.”
She visibly shivers. I love having such an obvious effect on her. “Th … thank you.”
“You mean thump queue?” I tease, remembering our first encounter on the train.
Her blush is delightful, but she doesn’t comment.
“Before we go down to the dining room, Molly, I wanted to make sure you understood what’s going on here.”
A look of panic crosses her face. “What’s that?”
“I want you to understand how much I like you,” I tell her with a slow grin.
“Oh.”
“And I wonder if I might give you a small, good morning kiss to remind you.” I assure her, “I just brushed my teeth.”
“I … um …”
Her chin bobs up and down slightly, which I take to mean that she’s okay with it. Lowering my mouth to hers, I let my lips briefly touch hers before starting to pull back. But she doesn’t let me break contact. She moves with me until our bodies are pressed against each other.
“You still like me this morning, huh?” she asks breathlessly.
“Very much,” I assure her. “Do you still like me?”
“Mmmm.”
