Focused: A hate to love sports romance(62)

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."

"No, I don't," I said. I ran my hands into my hair, a helpless gesture when what I wanted to do was tug her into my arms and feel my soul settle again. "Help me understand why it's so hard to see you, why we can't talk like normal."

"What's our normal?" she asked quietly, shaking her head as she did. "We hated each other until we didn't. We slept together, then stopped talking. And here we are."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's a massive simplification of what happened between us."

"I know it is."

"Nor was it my idea to stop talking," I reminded her gently.

That made her eyes flash dangerously. "Can you blame me for backing away? Would it have been easier to try to pretend that weekend didn't happen? Film, work, be around each other every single day and just ... pretend." Her voice sounded thick. "That sounded like hell to me."

"No, it wouldn't have been easier. I hate pretending. I don't ... I don't think I could have." I took a step closer. "But this hasn't been easy either, has it?"

She dropped her head into her hands and exhaled shakily. I got the distinct impression that the only thing allowing her to keep hold on her emotions was if she physically blocked out my presence like that. I took a step back.

"What do you want me to say, Noah?" she asked, voice muffled behind her hands. "I had a shitty day, and I'm tired, and I don't know what you want me to say right now."

"I want you to be honest with me." Curling my hands around her wrists, I gently pulled her hands away from her face. "I know you said that we never had a normal ... but ... I don't know what to make of that. You were my friend, Molly. I talked to you more than I talked to anyone. I miss you," I told her fiercely. "It was easy to ignore how much when you weren't around, but I do. And I hate how weird things are right now. Don't you?"

I couldn't believe what had just tumbled out of my mouth.

Unpracticed.

Unrehearsed.

Hell, I'd barely registered how I felt, but standing in front of her, it was like someone took a wood-chipper to whatever I'd been using to block out everything I'd suppressed for the past eight weeks.