“Oh, sweetie,” Riley said, rubbing Mollie’s arm. “Does he know?”
Mollie shook her head. “We haven’t really talked about what we are. Where we’re going. I mean, we can’t go anywhere, right? It would be the end of holidays with my sister. The end of everything with my sister. I can’t even imagine the level of awkwardness. And if the press finds out he’s hooked up with me…”
“But maybe that doesn’t matter as much now, right?” Julie said. “I mean, he’s still famous, but that will fade the longer he’s out of the spotlight. He may never be able to go completely unrecognized, but eventually the media will find someone else to focus on.”
“Julie’s right,” Emma said. “It won’t be easy at first, but if you two wanted to make it work, eventually people would accept it.”
“I don’t know,” Mollie said. “Even if I could mend things with my sister, wouldn’t I always be the girl who broke up America’s golden couple, or whatever?”
“Probably,” Riley said bluntly, in what Mollie was quickly realizing was her default manner of speaking. “So then I guess you’ll have to decide.”
“Decide what?” Mollie asked warily.
“If loving him is worth it.”
Chapter 26
By the time they’d seen the last of their friends out the door—the last being a chattering Penelope who wanted to know what Jackson had been thinking on every play he’d ever called—Mollie was exhausted.
While she’d enjoyed herself thoroughly, there’d been a lot to keep straight. Names, who worked where, who was partnered with whom.
That, and Riley’s question, which continued to weigh heavily on her.
Was loving Jackson worth it? Was it worth the risk of her reputation? Of his? Or the risk of losing her sister? God, she couldn’t even think about that.
And perhaps most gut-wrenching of all, was it worth breaking her heart?
Because not once had Jackson implied they were anything other than friends with benefits. And temporary ones, at that. She knew that he cared about her—she’d never doubted that. But in terms of him feeling the big L? There’d been no hint. No sign. No talk of tomorrow, much less next week or a year from now. And certainly no talk of forever.
Give the guy a break. He’s recently divorced, and this thing with you is new.
They had plenty of time to figure it out.
Jackson closed the door, and the slight downward dip of his chin told her he was as exhausted as she was.
He flicked his hazel eyes to hers. “Clean up tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she agreed enthusiastically. “I’m so glad you suggested renting the stemware. Otherwise I think my entire weekend would have been spent hand-washing all those glasses.”
He winked. “Not my first rodeo.”
Just like that, Mollie’s happy elation vanished. Of course it wasn’t his first time hosting. He’d done this dozens of times. Probably hundreds of times.
Just when she was starting to feel like a grown-up, patting herself on the back for having a cocktail party worthy of Sex and the City, he had to go and remind her that this was nothing new to him. He’d done it before. With Madison.
Mollie closed her eyes. How many of these moments would there be if they tried to make this work? How many of his firsts would have been not just with another woman but with Mollie’s sister?
Could she survive it?
Could they?
Jackson’s hands slipped around her waist as he pulled her toward him. “Hey now. Where’d you go?”
Mollie opened her eyes and lightly rested her hands on his shoulders before sliding them down slightly over his biceps, relishing the feel of his muscles beneath her palms.
He’d showered and shaved before the party, and while she was putting on her makeup he’d asked her to pick something for him to wear. The casual intimacy of the request had made her heart squeeze.
She’d chosen dark jeans and a black dress shirt, which he’d rolled up to his elbows within seconds of putting it on. He looked both casual and urbane, cowboy and city, and breathtakingly handsome.
“Why is your body so perfect?” she whispered, sliding her hands all the way down his arms, then moving to his torso, letting her fingers explore the hard planes of his abs through the fabric of his shirt.
“Funny, I’ve been thinking the same thing about you all night.” His hands glided from her waist to her back, his fingers touching the skin exposed by the straps of her dress, and Mollie shivered.
“Cold?” he murmured.
She shook her head.
“Ah. Let’s see what happens if I…” His words trailed off as he dipped his head to her neck, slipping beneath her hair to drag his lips along the column of her neck.
She gave a soft moan as his mouth opened there, softly sucking the skin between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue.
“I love the way you taste right here,” he said, his hand coming up and trailing a finger along the side of her neck. “You taste clean. And sweet. You taste like Mollie.”