Page 41 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

Me: Invite me over to watch it with you when I get home Sunday night, and I’ll make the popcorn.

Molly: I see what you did there.

Me: It’s what I’m going to keep doing until you admit we’d have the best first date either one of us has ever had.

Molly: Think pretty highly of yourself, huh?

Me: No, I think highly of US.

Molly: Bobby . . .

Me: Molly . . .

Me: Do you think two people in a committed relationship should share their phone passwords?

Molly: What? Why are you asking me these questions? You asked a ton of questions last night too, now that I think about it.

Feeling like the jig is up, I pull out my phone and snap a selfie with my book purchase, a sheepish expression on my face. I send the picture to her and she answers right away.

Molly: That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

Me: Cute, as in, so cute I have to ask that man on a date??

Molly: Yes.

Me: I accept!

Me: Wait. Seriously, though. You’re saying yes to a date? A real live, I’ll plan it, pick you up, and pay for it date?

Molly: Well, yes, to all of that but the paying for it thing. We can split the cost.

Me: You’ll have to fight me for the bill before I let that happen.

Molly: Bobby . . .

Me: Molly...Just let me bask in the warmth of your yes, okay?

Molly: Wish I was there to warm you up.

I squeeze my eyes shut and groan out loud. Fuck, why did this have to happen during an away streak? Molly isflirtingwith me. It’s historic. Possibly a one-time thing. I don’t want to give her enough time to rethink this date.

Me: What are you wearing? (And no, that’s not a question from the book).

Molly: Well, I’m actually only wearing a towel. (And that’s not me being flirtatious).

Me: Yes! See? Already feeling warmer. Wait, why are you in a towel? (And that’s too bad. I like flirtatious Molly).

Molly: I went to a yoga class this morning that Coco recommended. And now I have a house to show one of my clients.

Me: So, it’s true. I’m not your only client.

Molly: You’re the only client I’ve agreed to go on a date with... (This is me flirting).

Me: All right I won’t be mad. Especially won’t be mad if you send me a selfie in your towel. (Just assume that every text I send you is me flirting with you).

I nearly melt the chair I’m sitting on when Molly sends me a selfie several minutes later. The lighting is low, and the high angle is perfect. I see her luscious boobs pressed into a white fluffy towel, the ends of her wet hair dangling into the shot. Her curvy legs below the towel end in fire engine red toenails that tempt me.

Me: Dammit, Molly. You’re beautiful, and I can’t wait to take you out on a date when I get back home.

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