Page 31 of Molly's Mr. Wrong
“How so?”
“You have all of it.” His idea of distracting himself—and her—with a sexual vibe was now a smoking pile of ashes. How was he supposed to do that when he was fighting to keep up with everyone else, despite having remedial assignments?
“And you don’t like that?” Her voice got just the tiniest bit cold, as if he’d touched a nerve.
“Maybe it’ll just take me a little time to get used to it.” If he didn’t academically crash and burn first.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“WHATDOYOUTHINK?” Georgina held up two dresses, but before Molly could answer, she said, “Or should I go with jeans? You can’t go wrong with jeans. Unless it’s a formal occasion.” She laid the dresses on the bed. “With jeans, I have to find a top. With dresses, I don’t.”
“The red,” Molly said, pointing to the dress on the left.
“You think?”
“You wore it last week. You looked great. It’s casual and you won’t have to find the right top.”
“Yeah,” Georgina said as she tapped a forefinger on her bottom lip and studied the two knit dresses. “I agree.”
And Molly couldn’t remember the last time her sister had put this much thought into what she was going to wear. Or the last time that she, herself, had spent so much time brooding over a guy who wasn’t Blake. But while Finn wasn’t Blake, he was reacting like him. The fact that he wasn’t the one in control bothered him—he’d come right out and admitted it, so it wasn’t as if Molly was reading things into the situation.
She was so damned tired of macho men.
“I like this guy,” Georgina said, somehow guessing the direction of Molly’s thoughts. Maybe the bemused frown had tipped her off.
“You don’t know this guy.”
“Well...sometimes you just feel that something.” She hung the dresses back in the tiny closet she’d finally made peace with and closed the door.
“Have you felt that something before?”
“Nope. First time.”
Georgina had dated a lot but had never gotten all that serious about any one guy. That was where Molly had made her mistake. She hadn’t been with that many guys before getting together with Blake. After they’d hooked up, she’d been overwhelmed by her good fortune in landing him. He was intelligent, charismatic, sexy. Being with him had helped her take charge of other areas of her life, and then finding out she hadn’t been enough had broken that confidence into about a zillion little pieces. If she’d made such a mistake with him, then maybe she was making mistakes in other areas? Maybe she had reason to be insecure?
Thank goodness for anger. If Molly hadn’t been so angry about being cheated on, she might have messed up. Taken him back. Given him a second chance, a third, a fourth. She had no idea how many second chances Blake’s mother had given his father, but she wasn’t about to play that game. Blake had shattered her world, so she set about building a new one, drawing on strength she hadn’t realized she had.
And she never wanted to do that again, so she’d made a few strict life rules to make certain she neverhadto do that again. Number one rule—stay in control. Number two—don’t be taken in by charm, good looks, sex appeal. There would be no more Blakes in her life. The men she dated would have substance...and small egos. They’d be the kind of men who were comfortable owning up to mistakes, who didn’t see themselves as near perfect. Men who could compromise without feeling as if they were endangering their manhood.
Molly ended up calling upon both rules when Finn strolled into her office late Monday afternoon, carrying a printout of the writing exercises she’d asked him to complete. He set them on her desk, then stepped back and shoved his hands into his back pockets, as if he had no idea what to do with them. He sucked in his cheeks momentarily, accentuating the amazing hollows there. The guy had bones. Bones and an ego...and from the looks of things, his ego might be the slightest bit bruised from yet another reality check. Molly was not beyond taking advantage, because she knew from her experiences with Blake that bruised egos healed and became stronger.
“Did you have any major issues?” she asked.
“Definemajor.”
“Major as in something that would make you react defensively to a simple question.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Actually, there was nothing major. It just took a lot of time.”
“Did you learn something?”
“I did.”
Molly waited, just in case he was going to expand on his answer, and found herself wishing that he hadn’t worn a simple gray T-shirt. Would it have killed him to put on a regular shirt over it, so that she didn’t have to be distracted by...him?
She raised her eyebrows in a coolly polite expression. “Anything you want to go over?”
“It was pretty straightforward.” He shifted his weight, folding his arms over his chest. “Anything you want to tutor me on?”
