Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Anna stretches dramatically, standing up and tossing her hair over her shoulder like the reigning champion. “Monopoly is too easy. Let’s play charades.”
“You mean cheat at charades,” I call after her, dodging yet another pillow.
It doesn’t take long for charades to turn into absolute chaos.
Anna’s “dancing giraffe” has everyone crying with laughter, and Mom’s over-the-top impression of a bodybuilder has Dad practically falling out of his chair.
But the real show is Molly trying to waddle across the room, arms pinned to her sides, attempting to be a penguin.
“Penguin,” I whisper, leaning in just enough to make her jump.
“Stop sabotaging me!” she hisses, swatting at me, but she’s laughing too hard for me to take her seriously.
“Not my fault you’re a terrible penguin.” I grin when she glares at me.
“You’re going to regret this.” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Oh, I’m terrified,” I deadpan.
By the time Anna declares herself the victor again, the room is filled with groans.
Of course she won. She cheated.
Molly is now curled up in the corner of the couch.
Anna stretches with a yawn. “I’m done. You guys suck.”
“Thanks for cheating . . . again.”
Anna makes sure to flip me off before she heads up the stairs.
As Mom and Dad follow, the room feels quieter, softer.
The only sound is the occasional pop of the fire. I glance at Molly, who’s staring into her mug like it might tell her the mystery of life.
“You held your own tonight,” I say, breaking the silence.
She shrugs, her eyes still on the mug. “It was fun. Your family’s great.”
“You say that like it surprises you.”
She hesitates, her fingers tightening around the mug. “It does a little,” she admits softly.
“What do you mean?” I ask, leaning closer.
She’s quiet for a second, and then she sighs. “Not everyone grows up with this,” she says, her voice softer than I’ve heard all night. “My uncle wasn’t exactly the game night type.”
Her smile is forced, and it twists something in my chest. I reach over and take the mug from her hands, setting it on the table. “Molly,” I say gently.
She looks at me, her eyes shadowed with something I don’t fully understand but want to.
“It’s just . . . different here,” she says finally. “I didn’t realize how much I missed out on until tonight.”
“You deserved this kind of family,” I say, my voice firmer than I intended. “You still do.”
She glances away, her fingers twisting in her lap. “I’m just glad I get to borrow yours for a while,” she says, trying to sound light, but the crack in her voice gives her away.
“It’s not borrowing,” I say, reaching out to brush my hand against hers. “You’re part of this now. Whether you realize it or not.”
Her breath catches. Slowly, she looks back at me, her eyes wide and unsure.
“Hudson—” she starts, but I cut her off, curling my fingers around hers.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her quietly. “Just know that you’re not alone anymore.”
Her eyes glisten with tears she quickly blinks away, but when she squeezes my hand, I know she believes me.
82
Molly
Hudson leans against the counter as he watches me work.
Despite the season being over, I still have plenty of things to do for Dane. Something that Hudson doesn’t understand.
“I don’t get it, Molly,” he says, breaking the silence. His voice is low and measured, but I can hear the edge beneath it. “Why are you still doing this to yourself?”
“Doing what?” I ask as I stand from the table and head over to the sink.
“This.” He gestures to my computer. “Living your entire life for Dane. Putting his career before your own life.”
My chest tightens, and I force myself to focus on rinsing my coffee mug. “You don’t understand,” I say quietly.
“Then help me understand,” he says, stepping closer.
I sigh. “What do you want me to say, Hudson? That I owe him everything? That he fought for me when no one else did? That I wouldn’t even be standing here if it weren’t for him?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he counters, his voice steady but firm. “I know what Dane’s done for you. I know he’s your brother, and you love him. But you don’t have to spend your whole life repaying him like it’s some kind of debt.”
“It’s not a debt.” My voice rises more than I want. “It’s loyalty. Something you wouldn’t understand.”
As soon as I say the words, I regret them.
His eyes flash. He wants to snap, but he doesn’t. Somehow, he refrains. “This isn’t about loyalty, Molly. It’s about you. Your life. Your dreams. Do you even have those?”
I open my mouth to argue, but the words catch in my throat. I can’t speak. His words hit too close to home. To the fears I have.
“That’s what I thought.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t let you in so you can then throw it back in my face,” I say, my voice trembling.