Tapping my Uber app, I requested the ride before I could talk myself out of it. This was the impulsive Molly I didn’t let out often, but in this situation, I wasn’t going to second-guess it. Why he was still at the house, I had no clue, but I wasn't second-guessing that either. All I knew was that ignoring him was stupid because we still had to spend a lot of time together. Ignoring him was pointless, actually.
When a driver accepted the trip, I stood and sent Noah a quick text, telling him I'd be there. Instead of waiting to see what he said, I tucked the phone into the side pocket of my leggings.
"I need to go to work," I proclaimed to anyone who would listen.
And just like that, their arguing stopped. Like magic.
"Now?" Isabel asked. "You've been drinking."
"I have an Uber coming."
"Why do you need to work so late?" Claire asked.
"I just … do."
Isabel's face softened in understanding.
"Quit fighting, okay?" I said gently. "Let Claire do her paper on whatever she wants. It's not up to you two, and it's not fair to make it harder on her than necessary."
Claire pushed up from the couch to wrap me in a tight hug. I kissed her cheek when she whispered her thanks into my ear.
Isabel wiped a hand over her weary face. "Sorry, Claire."
I cleared my throat.
"And sorry, Lia," she mumbled.
"I'm sorry too," Lia added.
I pinched my cheeks and looked down at my Wolves tank top and white sneakers. My hair was pulled back and anchored into place with a few hair pins. I shrugged.
"Be careful," Iz told me.
"I'm just going for some filming they're doing of his new place." When she lifted an eyebrow in disbelief, I propped my hands on my hips. "I am."
As I skipped down the steps outside our apartment to my waiting Uber, I thought about her warning and had a moment of pause.
"Ready?" my driver asked.
I blew out a breath. No second-guessing. "Yup. Let's go."
Chapter Sixteen
Molly
A bright flurry of nerves popped and bubbled like champagne as I approached the house. The pictures didn't do it justice. As I walked up the covered front porch with solid wood beams holding up the peaked roofline, I got the distinct impression that this house had been built for someone as strong and intimidating as Noah was. Someone tall and strong, who'd fill the space and not be dwarfed by it.
Looking at the massive wood front doors, flanked by custom cut glass windows and artfully dimmed porch lights, I couldn't help but feel a little dwarfed myself. I lifted my chin and knocked, though, because the whole point of this—my job, the promotion, showing up to prove that I could be unaffected by Noah—was to prove that these things wouldn't and couldn't overwhelm me.
Beyond the door, I heard his deep voice tell me to come in, so I tested the door handle carefully. It opened, and I couldn't help but gasp when I walked into the house.
"Holy shit," I breathed. It was stunning. Even though the skies outside were dark, the soaring ceilings and crisp white walls made it seem bright and airy and welcoming. Rugs covered the floor around the solidly built furniture, and windows facing Lake Washington sparkled with the lights of nearby houses and buildings across the water.
"Thanks for coming."
I jumped, slapping a hand over my chest when I saw him round a corner. A ghost of a smile graced his lips, and my fingers itched to push it further, see how the motion would transform his already handsome face.
"It's …" I shook my head, eyes still trying to take in the space. "It's amazing, Noah."
He approached slowly, hands hanging loosely at his sides. His legs were covered in black track pants with the bright red Wolves logo near a pocket, and stretched over his chest was a white T-shirt so worn, it was practically indecent.
Underneath it, I could see the shadows and lines of his upper body, and a hole in the neckline gave me an extra glimpse of tanned, smooth skin. My entire body swayed toward him. That same tug I always felt.
I guess I was a bit more tuggable after a bottle of wine.
His forehead creased. "Have you been drinking?"
"A little," I heard myself admit.
Why was his face doing that thing? The swirling, ominous thundercloud thing that made him look like lightning was about to crackle from the surface of his skin. The mental picture made me grin, and his face pinched further.
"You were drinking and then drove here? Are you insane?" he said, voice low and dangerous and deep as he took another step toward.