Focused: A hate to love sports romance

My brother wrapped his arm around me. "I'll take that as a compliment, kiddo."

Allie watched us with a sad smile. "Do you want help with your desk?"

I shook my head. "I'd rather do this alone, if that's okay with you guys."

"Of course." She met me in the middle of my office and gave me a tight squeeze. "You're a rock star, Molly. If there's anything I can do moving forward, let me know, okay? We're always looking for help at the Team Sutton Foundation."

Another job I'd get without blinking because of my last name. I smiled at her all the same. "Thank you, Allie. I will."

Logan took longer to convince, but after three more hugs and five more offers to stand outside my office while I cleaned up to make sure whoever came from HR was nice to me, I all but shoved him out of the room that wouldn't be my office anymore.

He was just beyond the corner when I called his name. His head popped back through the open door. "Yeah?"

"Not a word to Noah."

Logan opened his mouth to argue.

"No." I pointed a finger at him. "It happened weeks ago. I am an adult, and so is he. You don't get to interfere this time."

He narrowed his eyes. "Define interfere."

After a second, I ticked off the most obvious answers on my fingers. "No yelling, no telling him what happened, no threatening, no embarrassing him or me in front of the guys, because Logan Ward, if you march back in that practice and get in his face about this, I am the one who is embarrassed. Do you understand me?"

Paige had these scary eyes that she used on my brother when she went from I'm serious to I will end you if you cross me. I'd seen them often over the past ten years, and I gave it my best attempt. It must have worked because he grimaced. "Fine."

"I mean it."

He held up his hands. "I promise! Geez. You're as bad as Paige," he mumbled before he left.

I was grinning as he went back to practice. And given the current situation, that was pretty impressive. Everything after that went as smoothly as possible.

I signed some papers. Filled two file boxes. And the security guard who walked me out started tearing up because I'd known him since I was five.

"Ain't right," he said under his breath.

I wrapped my arm around his thin waist and gave him a squeeze. "I'll be okay, Rod, I promise."

He hugged me back, wiping at his face with the sleeves of his shirt after he took my security badge from me. Before I walked out the door into the parking lot, my eyes watered up again as I stared at the red and black logo of the wolf tossing its head back in a howl.

I let out a slow breath and left the building.

Everything held a surreal quality as I walked numbly to my car. Like when you have a cold and your head feels disconnected from your body. Or everyone around you is moving at a different speed. There were boxes in my hands, but I hardly felt them, like someone else's arms were holding them up.

My car was right where I left it, and I set the boxes on the hood so I could dig my keys out of my purse. With the trunk opened, and the boxes set carefully inside, I couldn't get over the strange sense of detachment I felt.

Later, I'd probably cry again at the loss of a job I loved.

I'd probably cry at the knowledge that I wouldn't see Noah anymore. Then I snorted. Please, I hadn't seen him in eight weeks unless it was on a TV screen.

That was when I heard him. "Molly?"

The sound of Noah's voice sent chills racing down the length of my spine, one after another, tumbling on top of each other to see which could go faster. They were powerful enough, those racing, chasing chills, that I shivered. Just once.

For the past eight weeks, I'd fought against every impulse to show up at his door some night. To catch a glimpse of him after a game or when he was sweaty after practice. But I'd been right to stay away. Because I knew, I knew so deep in the darkest, most vulnerable part of my heart that I couldn't go to him. Not this time.

With my hands still braced on the lid of my trunk, I took a deep breath, dropping my arms slowly as I turned to see Noah, watching me with a careful expression on his face.

If his voice gave me chills, then his face melted me to my core.

"Hi, Noah," I said, keeping my own expression just as neutral.

His jaw clenched. And I held my breath to see what he'd say next.





Chapter Twenty-Four





Noah





She looked terrible.

And beautiful.

Her nose was red, and her eyes rimmed like she had a cold or had been crying. There was no messy bun today, the kind I was used to, the one that she'd no doubt done and redone a dozen times, and her hair was down in messy waves.

It was shorter, just below her shoulders.

Molly's eyes surveyed me in much the way that I was her, and it occurred to me, after a few beats of awkward silence, that it was my turn to talk.

"How are you?"

If I'd ever wanted to find the situation in life that I sucked at the most, it was this, right here. I couldn't have sounded more painfully polite. More disinterested. But inexplicably, her eyes softened at my robotic tone.

"It was kind of a rough day," she answered quietly. "Or not nearly as good as yours was yesterday, at any rate."

I grimaced. "Yeah." My eyes searched her face. “What happened? Are you okay?”

When she smiled sadly, I knew she wasn’t going to answer me. "Congratulations on breaking the record." She shook her head. "You've looked great out there."

My eyes held hers, and she blushed.

"Or played great," she stammered. "Not looked great. Not that I can see your face under the helmet."

"I knew what you meant." I gentled my tone. "And thank you."

Molly glanced away, staring hard at the facility behind me. I had to close my eyes for a second and try to formulate a plan. Walking out to my car, I hadn't expected to see her or have this awkward facsimile of a conversation with the one person I never struggled to talk to. Rick and Marty's words about her rang through my head, louder and louder until I wanted to smack my temple and dislodge them. Empty my ears like they were water I'd allowed in while swimming.

"Are you still liking the house?"

I nodded. Good plan, Griffin. Stand awkwardly until she felt forced to speak because you couldn't get out of your own head.

"Yeah, umm, I'm still slow at buying furniture and stuff. I don't do much besides sleep and eat there."

That made her look sad. For me.

"Did you get your telescope at least?"

"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck. "It's still in the box they shipped it in."

This was getting better and better.

She gave me a tiny smile. "I found a constellation the other day."

"Yeah? Which one?"

"The Big Dipper."

I smiled widely, and it felt like that simple motion cracked a concrete mask off my face.

How far had my blinders extended? I'd been so focused on work—eating it, breathing it, sleeping it—gladly allowing it to drown out every other thing in my head so that I didn't have to dissect what was remaining. And in one uncomfortable conversation, she sliced them off with the neat clips of a blade.

No wonder I never dipped my toes into the ocean of dating and women. I sucked at this. I'd managed one stupid question, the kind you'd ask a stranger.

But this was Molly. The same woman who made me laugh, when laughing was the last thing I wanted to do. Who made me smile, and surprised me when I thought I was beyond surprising. The same woman who singlehandedly obliterated my legendary control because I couldn't imagine not kissing her or tasting her. The only thing I could do was be honest.

But she spoke first. "I should go."

"Wait." I strode forward, stopping just shy of touching her. "Why is this so hard?" I asked.

Molly slumped against her car and gave me a miserable look. "Come on, Noah. You know why."

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