Page 17 of Molly's Mr. Wrong
There was nothing wrong with tightening and replacing tarps on haystacks. Not one thing. But it wasn’t what he wanted to do anymore.
CHAPTER FIVE
AFTERSKIPPINGENGLISH, Finn told himself he had to go to math—even if it meant receiving another red-ink-bleeding paper. How else would he find out if math was another area in which he’d been fooling himself into thinking he had basic skills? Was it possible that his high school As in the subject had been the gift of teachers who were concerned with the school’s sports success?
Recalling Mrs. Birdie’s stern face, he thought not. The woman had been out for him, calling him on every infraction of the rules, then grudgingly giving him decent marks on his work. Mrs. Birdie hadn’t been a sports fan or a Finn Culver fan. Yet he’d gotten an A in the class.
Finn drove into the lot and, seeing Molly’s small car, parked next to it. He wasn’t certain exactly what his objective was—it was more of a go-with-his-gut moment. He walked into class a few minutes late, but congratulated himself on being there at all, and then found a seat in the back and waited to get his assessment paper back. The instructor smiled at him as she set down the paper and moved on. Annoyed that his heart was beating faster—it was only a math paper, for Pete’s sake—Finn flipped the paper over, then fought a smile as the taut muscles in his shoulders relaxed.
The only ink on the paper was turquoise, rather than killer red, a brief note asking him to show more of his work. He could do that—although he wasn’t all that good at laying out the steps in his head on paper in a way that others could easily follow. He knew that because it had driven Mrs. Birdie nuts. And many times he tackled things in a roundabout way that made sense to him, but wasn’t the prescribed method for solving the problem. But what did it matter as long as he came up with the proper solution?
Bottom line—this paper showed that he wasn’t deluding himself. He could do math. Did he need English at all?
Well...yes—if he was going to get a degree. But he didn’t need English right now. This semester he’d focus on his math class, learn to follow the prescribed steps and how to show his work. By the end of the semester, he’d be more comfortable in an academic environment and have a better idea of how to tackle learning without feeling intimidated. And he wasn’t going to give Molly another shot at eviscerating him.
And maybe tonight was the time to tell her that. Nicely, of course.
* * *
TRUETOFORM, Molly was already breaking her promise to herself not to stay late on campus working. But the grading was piling up and if she didn’t keep on top of it, she’d get buried. Besides, Allie Brody might need to knock on the wall.
She set down her pen, pulled her glasses off and pressed the heels of her hands to her tired eyes.
“Hey...”
Molly jumped a mile at the unexpected male voice, automatically reached for her glasses and instead hit them with the back of her hand, sending them skittering onto the floor. Finn bent down to pick them up and solemnly handed them back to her. Molly set the heavy dark brown frames back on the desk. Having Finn a little out of focus wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“You missed class yesterday.”
Finn leaned carelessly against the door frame, the picture of the who-gives-a-damn jock he’d been in high school. “I’m going to drop it. I thought I’d give you official notice.”
Molly looked down at the papers in front of her. There were remarks written on the top one, but nothing like what she’d done to Finn. “But you haven’t dropped it yet?” When she looked back up at him, she saw him watching her carefully.
“Tomorrow. Just thought I’d let you know.” He smiled tightly and then pushed off the door frame and walked back down the hall, leaving Molly staring at the empty space he’d just filled. For a moment she sat stone still, then she jumped to her feet, grabbed her glasses so she didn’t trip over anything and started after Finn. He was already on his way out the main exit, so she hurried her steps, finally giving up and calling his name after pushing through the glass-and-steel doors.
He slowed down, then stopped and turned. Now she’d done it. She’d engaged and she had to follow through.
Drawing in a deep breath that wasn’t nearly as calming as she’d hoped it would be, she started toward him. “I think we should talk about this.”
“No offense, Molly, but there’s not a lot to say.”
Molly stopped a few feet away from him. “I want you to know that I wasn’t engaging in some sort of petty revenge when I marked your paper.”
He said nothing as he studied her with those striking hazel eyes, but if he hoped to fluster her, it wasn’t going to work. Much.
All right. It wasn’t going to work in any way that showed.
“I didn’t say one thing on your paper that wasn’t true, but... I was a bit overzealous with my pen.”
“Yet there was no petty revenge involved.” Finn sauntered forward as he spoke. A slow, almost predatory movement, as if he were a big cat moving in on his prey. Molly’s prey days were over, so she took a step forward, too. A brisk no-nonsense step that brought them almost chest to chest. Miscalculation on her part, but she wasn’t going to have him in the power role.
And she wasn’t going to react to the heat coming off his body or the fact that his scent now seemed to surround her and certain parts of her body were taking notice. That was what the Finns of the world, the Blakes of the world, banked on.
“Perhaps a little.” She’d almost stuttered. Damn. The old Molly was starting to take over now that they were so close, and she would not have that. She pushed her glasses up a little higher, straightened her back. Finn’s gaze narrowed, as if he was wondering what she was doing.
“And you have me pegged as a dumb athlete who was handed a diploma he didn’t deserve.”
“I didn’t say that.”
