Oliver took a drink of his own beer, looking up as the first stars appeared in the fading blue sky before returning his attention to her. “You know, I’d like to kick this guy’s ass for doing that to you. I know you’re fine with it, but the fact that he’s just out there living and breathing like he’s not a jerk pisses me off.”
Her shoulders shook again in laughter and he felt like a king. “I probably feel the same,” she said. “But breakups happen. No retaliation needed.”
“He’s the one who fucked around, so it didn’t just happen, Molly,” Oliver insisted, needing to know she wasn’t screwed up about the facts. “He made it happen. If he had a problem with your relationship, he should have come to you like a man and told you.”
“I know,” Molly said, “and not that it’s an excuse, but I honestly wasn’t around much to even have the conversation.”
“Oh, so it was hard for him to keep his dick in his pants while his fiancée was working her ass off? Give me a break. That’s not the way partners operate. You pick up the slack when the other person is busy. It’s the bare basics of being a decent human being. You don’t go out and dip your wick into another warm body when you have one at home, and a smoking hot one at that.”
Molly just stared at him and he hoped like hell he hadn’t overstepped. But then she said, “Definitely. I’m not arguing with you, Oliver.”
He lifted her chin with his finger so she could see how serious he was when he said, “I just feel like you’re not hearing me. People don’t cheat because the person isn’t around. They cheat because they’re assholes. Would you have cheated on him if he was working hard trying to succeed at something amazing and wasn’t around to have sex with you all the time?”
“Of course not.”
“Exactly. Molly, he committed to marrying you. Marriage means you weather any storm that comes along—together. A month spent with my dick in my hand would be easy compared to not being with the woman I loved for the rest of my life.”
Molly’s brow furrowed and he loved watching her brain work to figure out what he meant. “I know he’s an asshole, Oliver, I do,” she said, swallowing when he stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. “All I’m trying to say is that I’m not perfect, either. That doesn’t mean he should have cheated on me, but I’m only human as well.”
He wanted to tell her she was perfect, but that would just scare the shit out of her so he kept his mouth shut.
“I appreciate you saying that stuff,” she continued when he didn’t respond. Instead he was too occupied with the feel of her skin under his hand. So he did it, brushed his thumb across the slant of her jaw and watched her eyes bloom with awareness. Yeah, the heat between them was still there.
“I don’t want you to appreciate it, I want you to believe it. You’re a fucking catch, Molly. Don’t let some jerk ever make you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated well because you have a job you love. That’s nonsense.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet, the air between them charged and electric as their eyes stayed locked on each other. “That’s nice of you to say, Oliver. You’re a good friend.”
“I’m not saying it to be nice, I’m saying it because it’s true. Not all guys cheat, Molly.”
She nodded, but her expression grew uncertain. “After it happened I did kind of wonder if maybe there’d been something missing, you know? Like maybe I wasn’t satisfying him. I know probably every woman thinks that who’s been cheated on, so...” She stopped and shrugged. “But I know that’s bullshit, too. I won’t let him have that kind of power over me.”
“Good. And as someone who has been with you, I can tell you with confidence that you’re the best I’ve ever had.”
He heard her little inhale of breath and his dick went stiff. Christ, this was too damn soon. She needed some time first, to get over her ex, to be ready to date again. To, hell, he didn’t know—he just knew he felt like the asshole now because he couldn’t stop touching her. She was looking for reassurance because some douchebag had made her feel like she wasn’t Molly Madix, his walking wet dream, and he’d gone and doubled down on flirting with her. He was a different kind of bastard altogether.
“That can’t be true,” she told him. “You’ve probably slept with, like, hundreds of women.”
And there went a glass of ice water on his burgeoning erection.
“Excuse me?” he asked, his thumb stilling on her chin, pressing into the skin there without his really meaning to.
“Well,” she said, her eyes clouding with embarrassment as one of her hands gestured wildly to encompass his body, “look at you. Anyone would want to have sex with you.”
“So what?” he pressed, cursing himself as his other arm went around her back, pulling her closer into him. “You think I just have sex with whoever wants me?”
“No, of course not,” she told him, eyes apologetic and voice soft.
“Did I ever make you feel like I was looking at other girls when we were together on the boat back then?”
She shook her head.
“You just think I’m a man-whore because of my pretty face, then, or did I do something else?”
“No, I don’t think that, but you left me, too, you know,” Molly managed, but her breathing had turned heavy, and he knew he was affecting her just as she was doing to him. “Which leads me to believe that maybe you’re exaggerating about me being the best you’ve ever had.”
He saw the uncertainty in her eyes and gentled his hand on her face, brushing his thumb over the baby-soft skin of her jaw. “Molly, you
