Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
As I sit there, once again my mind wanders to the fact that Molly isn’t dating anyone. Why is she single? Jeez, I’ve never met anyone so funny, smart, and cute. Trust me when I say this: a lot of girls cross my path on a regular basis—girls who want to be with me because I’m an athlete, and not much else. They know I’m headed to a Division One school, probably the pros after that, and they want to say they’ve screwed me. It wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t good-looking. Take Rick for example. In my opinion, his face is fucked up, and that dude can still get a blow job any time of the day.
There’s just something about Molly.
Something…different.
Like, she’s got class. Plus, as an added bonus, Molly knows more shit about hockey than most guys who sit at my lunch table. Talk about a complete turn-on. I almost came in my pants when she said trick shot.
Her voice breaks into my thoughts as I turn into a parking lot, and I realize I’ve been daydreaming far too long.
“The Shedd Aquarium? Weston, this is…incredible!” She’s got this doe-eyed expression across her face as I pull into the aquarium’s parking structure. I roll down my window as I pull up to the automated teller, push the large round green button for a ticket stub, and once I have it, I slap it on my dash.
Soon we’re approaching the building, and I bust ahead so I can hold the door for her. She’s got her jacket on, and damn if I don’t mourn the loss of the view of her bare shoulders.
CHAPTER 13
MOLLY
“You want my advice? Because I’m gonna give it to you, anyway. If you want this guy, you just have to kiss the shit out of the dumb bastard.”
– Jenna
We’re walking past the moon jellyfish exhibition when Weston suggests we stop and sit on the bench seated in front of the wall-size aquarium. The room where the exhibit is housed is actually dark, and the tank in front of us is dark too. Only the soft blue glow from the jellyfish lights up the room.
There is an unoccupied bench directly in front of the huge reservoir of sea life, so that’s where we sit. Pulsing and drifting in a weightless dance, the jellyfish look like ghosts with their translucent bodies lit by a black light. Soft music is being pumped into the room, and I have to admit, this has been the perfect date.
I am aware of Weston’s soft breathing beside me and the heat from his large body. Our thighs and hips are touching, and every cell in my body is humming from the contact.
We sit for several minutes without speaking, content to watch hundreds of glowing sea creatures dance a water ballet in front of us. The sight is breathtaking.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Weston’s voice breaks the silence, and it’s so random I throw my head back and laugh. The sound echoes off the walls in the hollow cavernous room, and I have to admit that, even to my own ears, it sounds throaty and kind of…erotic.
“I thought guys hated that question. That’s right up there with Do these jeans make me look fat?”
“Yeah, I guess I never got that memo. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.” Then he gives me a sideways glance. “So…”
“Oh okay. You want me to play along, I see. What am I thinking about, what am I thinking about…” I tap on my chin, pretending to ponder my answer. “Well, I was thinking about how the jellyfish look like floating ballerinas.” I laugh again at his scrunched-up expression. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Well, no, actually. That answer sucked.”
“Did it leave you unfulfilled?” I tease.
“Uh, yeah, it did.”
My mom and I always say we’re ‘unfulfilled’ when we spend a whole day shopping and leave the mall without having purchased anything fun. I remember this one time, we spent an entire day going to garage sales, and all I spent was six dollars on an old chandelier I spray painted for my bedroom and two bucks on a pair of jeans. Ugh, did I feel empty inside that day. I chuckle at my own fond memory.
We’re quiet for a bit in companionable silence, and then I murmur, “It’s so peaceful here. Thank you for bringing me.” I’m tempted to lay my head on his shoulder but can’t dig deep enough to gather up the courage. Instead, our eyes stay glued to the blue glowing jellyfish that pulse and float in front of us, up…then down…up…then down…slow and languishing like a lullaby. Watching them is spellbinding, and I can see how it would be therapeutic.
A person could stay here all day.
Soon, we’re back to quietly talking in hushed tones. Maybe it’s just us, but the atmosphere just makes you want to whisper. We talk about his sister Kendall, and he tells me about Zoe, the sister he lost to a battle to childhood leukemia almost five years ago at the tender age of seven. Zoe, the one name tattooed on his arm.