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)
Everyone loses their shit.
The guys roar with laughter, and even though I should be celebrating, I can’t help but wonder where Molly is.
It’s a compulsion.
The need to seek her out is all-consuming. I try to stop myself, but I can’t.
When did I become so obsessed with her?
After the charity event?
Dinner with my family?
Most likely, it’s everything in between. All the little moments.
In the past, I would have ignored this voice telling me to go find her, but I can’t stop myself any longer. I don’t know what’s happening to me.
I don’t recognize this version of me.
I step outside the locker room, not able to hold back another second. It’s much quieter out here. Everyone is too busy celebrating inside.
A small crowd has formed, but it’s nothing like what’s going on inside. I start to make my way through the people milling about.
Luckily, no one stops me as I head to seek her out. I find her relatively fast. She’s standing at the far end of the hallway, leaning against the wall, scrolling through her phone.
“Anything interesting on that thing?” I ask once I’m near.
She doesn’t look up, but her lip twitches. “Just some story about a hotshot scoring a goal.”
“Oh, really?” I can’t help the cocky grin pulling at the edges of my lips. I am a hotshot. Glad she knows it. “And who is this hotshot?”
“No one you know, Wilde.”
Although her words are sarcastic, there’s no hate in her voice. Unlike back then, her barbs are light and airy.
I don’t answer.
Instead, I take her wrist and gently tug her down the hallway, away from the prying eyes of the media and staff. I don’t need another Redville Post headline accusing me of debauchery.
“What are you doing?” Molly stumbles slightly as she tries to keep up with me. “Where are we going? Someone might see us.”
“No one’s looking, Hex.”
I make a left and head down one of the back hallways, then I turn another corner. This place is a maze, but right now, I welcome it.
In the corner, outside a closet, is a stack of crates holding equipment.
I glance around, confirming we’re alone. “This will have to do.”
She furrows her brows. “What will have to do?”
I maneuver us so we’re hidden out of sight.
Once we’re blocked by the walls, I turn to face her. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her eyes widen at my admission, she looks stunned.
Her lips twitch into a grin.
Reckless Molly is coming out to play.
Molly flips her hair over her shoulder. “Let me get this straight . . . you just won your game, and you’re thinking about me?”
“Yeah.” I move closer, my fingers toying with the edge of her shirt. “That’s right.”
Molly opens her mouth, most likely to fire back a witty rebuttal, but whatever she’s about to say dies on her lips the moment I cup her cheeks and bring my mouth to hers.
The kiss isn’t soft or gentle.
It’s filled with want and desire. Fueled by weeks—years—of tension.
Molly’s fingers clutch the front of my shirt, pulling me closer yet pushing me away at the same time.
This woman is one big contradiction.
But as long as she kisses me back, I don’t care.
She freezes for half a second.
A sound penetrates my ears. Footsteps, maybe. But I don’t care. I’m lost in this woman. All that matters is how she feels. How she tastes. The world could implode, and I wouldn’t fucking care.
“Hudson?” It’s Mason. The fucker has the worst timing on the planet. “You back here?”
Shit.
Molly jerks back like she’s been electrocuted.
Her hands press against my chest to create space between us, but I don’t budge. Her breath hitches, and for a split second, she looks as rattled as I feel.
I don’t let her get far.
I cage her in without thinking, one hand braced against the wall beside her, the other curling loosely around her waist.
My heart slams in my chest, hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.
I look down at Molly. Her eyes are wide, and her cheeks are flush, pink streaking up from her neck to the tips of her ears.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to kiss her again, Mason be damned.
She sucks in a breath, her chest rising and falling against mine. Her lips are still parted, still red. Still mine.
I lift my finger to my mouth to signal for her to be quiet.
She shoots me a look, her brows furrowed like I’m somehow the one to blame for this chaos. Her gaze darts around the room, scanning for an escape route, but there’s nowhere to go.
I dip my head down until my lips brush the shell of her ear. Close enough that my words don’t carry, and I feel her shiver. “Relax, Hex.”
“This is a disaster.”
“I know.” I smirk, the corner of my mouth twitching. “We didn’t even get to the best part.”