Molly nodded shakily.
"It'll be all right," I repeated.
I just broke a woman-free streak that had lasted years, and I was about to spend the weekend with her. And a camera crew. And my grandma. And I was supposed to keep my hands off her now that I knew exactly how she tasted and the noises she made when she sucked my tongue into her mouth.
No problem.
Chapter Eighteen
Molly
A few things became clear to me over the next eighteen hours since I walked on Jell-O legs out of Noah's new house.
1-Noah could still kiss
2-I was an idiot
3-I needed an intervention because I tossed and turned the entire night afterward, replaying that kiss like he'd just served me the best sex of my entire life
Number two was the one I needed to focus on the most. It should have told me everything I needed to know that it wasn't in the number one spot in the first place. Rick and Marty wanted to do some editing before we left for South Dakota, and Noah had a big practice before the weekend leading into preseason, so we didn’t film the next day.
Work provided a meager distraction, but not enough to quiet my screaming thoughts. The whole day at my desk, my thoughts had done this basic dance.
Did kissing count as fraternization?
No.
Yes.
Maybe, because there was a lot of tongue action.
But probably not.
Fraternization was probably just P into V. Actual intercourse, like the way they'd taught us in middle school. Nothing else counted.
Would Beatrice demote me for making out with him?
No.
Yes.
Maybe, because holy shit there was a lot of tongue action.
I called Isabel as soon as I left the parking lot because I knew she was working, and I knew there were no classes scheduled that night.
"Can I come do a training session with you?"
On the other end of the phone, I heard the thumping bass and the mic'd up voice of one of their instructors running a class. She must have closed the door to her office because it quieted considerably. "Sure. I need to be here anyway because Amy is doing a one on one with a client, and we always make sure neither of us is alone when it's someone new."
"Good," I exhaled gustily. "I need you to beat the thoughts in my head into submission."
"I'll see what I can do," she promised.
By the time I got there, Claire and Lia decided to join too, and I grinned on my way into the building. The mirrored doors swung open, and I saw my sisters stretching in the empty square that was surrounded by steel frames and swinging chains holding heavy one-hundred-and-fifty-pound bags.
Isabel's hands were wrapped in black, her hair slicked back into a sleek ponytail at the top of her head, and her tall, lean body was covered in black leggings and a black halter top.
I'm nicer after kickboxing her shirt proclaimed in big block letters.
It was hard for me to recognize sometimes exactly how my little sister turned into such a badass.
Amy, the gym's owner, was in the back corner by the racks of free weights, medicine balls, and jump ropes. She was stretching too, and she waved at me as I joined my sisters.
"Will her client care that we're here?" I asked Iz as I plopped on the ground and started tying my shoes.
She shrugged. "I can't see why. He's still getting a personal training session."
"You don't think Amy could handle some new guy alone?" Lia snorted. "Amy could beat the shit out of Logan on a bad day."
We all laughed.
Isabel smiled. "She could, but that's not the point. It's a safety thing. When we don't know the client, male or female, we make sure we're not here alone with them."
Claire laid back on the rubber mat floor. "I'll just relax here. Someone wake me when you're done."
Lia nudged her as she stood. "Slacker. Come on, we're here for Molly."
When Lia glared at me, I held up my hands. "Don't blame me. I didn't invite you."
"You didn't have to," Claire said. "In lieu of a golden retriever, younger sisters must act in an emotional support assistance capacity."
"We really do need a dog," Isabel said. "Because you two complain too much."
Lia kicked her leg out, which Iz dodged nimbly. Then she shoved her hands into the focus mitts that I'd end up punching the shit out of and slapped them together sharply. It sounded like a gunshot in the gym, and Claire jumped. Isabel chuckled. "Come on, lazy ass, get up. We're not here to waste my time; we're here to work. Let's go. Two laps around the gym, then back to your bags and give me a side lunge into a side kick. Each side five times. If that heel isn't higher than your toes when you kick the bag, you owe me a burpee."
We all groaned but did as she asked.
Thirty minutes later, my mind was clearer, my shirt was soaked in sweat, and my arms and legs were burning.
I loved how yoga improved my flexibility and core, but sometimes, I just wanted to beat the shit out of the bag.
Trying to decide what to do after making out with Noah and dry humping him against his front door was one of those times.
I flopped onto the ground when I was supposed to be doing push-ups and watched with an exhausted grin as Isabel yelled at Lia to move faster.
"I'm done," gasped Claire as she joined me. "Next time you need emotional support, please go to a dog shelter or something, okay?"
That had me laughing, though it quickly dissolved to a groan when that hurt too.
"Why are we supporting you again?" she asked.
I gave a quick side-eye at her phrasing. "Just ... it's a big weekend. I needed to clear my head before I'm stuck in a cabin with Noah."
Stuck in a cabin. Imagining his hands. And lips. And oh, my stars, how big and strong and hard and ... big ... and hard ... he was.
Thank goodness my face was already bright red from the beatdown Iz was giving us.
Isabel came over and frowned at the two of us. "You're not done."
"Yes," I said. "We are."
"I need to be able to walk tomorrow, Iz."
She blew a raspberry with her lips. "Walking easily is overrated. How else will you appreciate the body you have if you don't feel every single ... muscle." Her eyes went laser sharp, and her voice trailed off as someone walked into the gym. I sat up and turned, and Claire did the same. "Holy shit," Isabel whispered.
Holy shit was right.
New client was tall and dark and handsome. New client had muscles on muscles, and a dark, forbidding expression that sent a shiver down my spine.
"I know him," Lia murmured as she came to stand next to Isabel. "He was an MMA fighter. Finn loved watching his fights."
Just before he approached Amy, he glanced at us, eyes touching briefly on Isabel, before he dismissed us completely.
I heard Iz suck in a breath. "Yeah, he was. His wife just died, so he retired to take care of his daughter."
That cast a quiet hush over the four of us.
"You okay, Iz?" Claire asked.
She blinked. "Yeah. We're done, right?"
I exchanged glances with Lia and Claire, who gave me identical shrugs. "Yeah, we're done. I should go home to shower and pack anyway."
"When do you leave?" Lia asked.
"I have about three hours. But we're taking a private plane, so I can get to the air strip right before we take off and be fine."
"Baller." Claire grinned.
"Ha. Yeah, I am."
Isabel started picking up around the bags, and her cheeks were bright pink.
"What's her deal?" I whispered.
Lia shrugged again. "Who knows. I'd ask but ..." Her voice trailed off, and we all knew why.
We could ask, but unless Isabel wanted to share, she wouldn't tell us shit.
"Maybe she was a fan of his," Claire said, pointing at Mr. Tall, Dark and Scary-looking.
"Maybe." I sighed. "Okay. Tell me that I'll be fine this weekend."
“You will,” Claire said. “No matter what happens, you’ll be fine.”
Lia grabbed my shoulders, serious face in place. "You can do this. He's just a big dumb football player who won't remember you when he's gone from Washington, which will probably be soon since players are traded all the time."
Claire's mouth fell open. "You are terrible at this,” she told her twin.