Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

MOLLY

It was almost forty minutes before Gerry returned to the family room where Molly sat waiting, her legs tucked beneath her on the couch, idly watching television. Her heart had grown heavier with each passing minute, the quiet stretching between them as the hours of their evening began to dwindle. She clutched the remote, barely paying attention to the screen until a familiar sound caught her ear. SportsCenter was on, and a recap of the hockey games filled the room with animated voices and clips of last night’s highlights.

Her breath hitched when she saw it—a brief but unmistakable snippet of Gerry, larger than life on the screen. The camera showed him skating across the ice, her cradled in his strong arms, both of them kissing. It was the kind of moment she would have fretted over endlessly in the past. Was her hair a mess? Did her clothes look unflattering? Was her makeup smudged?

But this time was different.

The scene unfolding on the screen didn’t matter for those reasons. What struck her was the expression on Gerry’s face. Pure, unguarded affection radiated from hi m as he held her close. She couldn’t help but notice the way he looked at her—as though she was the only person in the world. And when she glanced at her own reflection at the moment, she realized her feelings mirrored his.

“Ladies,” the commentator on the television quipped, her voice playful and teasing, “looks like another of the North Texas Coyotes is officially off the market! Our favorite player, Gerry Thierry—A.K.A. Thor—has a new love in his life, and I’d almost wonder if hockey might have to take a back seat to that lucky little lady…”

The words made Molly’s cheeks flush with warmth. The scene was so surreal, so intimate, and public all at once. Her hand trembled as she fumbled with the remote to turn off the television just as the door creaked open.

Gerry stepped in hesitantly, his usual confident demeanor replaced with something softer, shyer. His dark eyes darted toward her before quickly looking away.

“Sorry,” he began, his voice low. “I know it’s getting late and?—”

“Take me home,” she whispered, cutting him off. Her words were gentle but filled with a quiet urgency. She didn’t want to spend another second dancing around what they were feeling. She wanted to be somewhere private, just the two of them, where they could talk, hold each other, and maybe, just maybe, build on the connection that had sparked so fiercely between them.

Gerry blinked, his brow furrowing slightly. “I will,” he said after a pause, though his tone was cautious. “Maybe we could try this again? Another time, when it’s not so late?—”

“Gerry,” she said, standing and taking a step toward him, her voice firm but tender. “Take me home and spend time with me.” She gave him a small, reassuring smile. “If you don’t mind the late hour, then I certainly don ’t. We could cuddle, chat until the sun comes up…”

His head snapped up, surprise written all over his face. “Are you serious?”

“Are you?” she countered, tilting her head as she studied him. Her tone softened as she continued, “If you’re sure about us—about wanting to see where this goes—and if you believe there might be something real between us, then yes, I’m serious.”

Gerry exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Molly, I’d love to spend more time with you away from work, but…” He hesitated, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that made her chest tighten. “I think we need to clear the air first. Make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings.”

“Oh?” she prompted, her brow arching slightly.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” he said quietly, his words deliberate and his gaze unwavering. “I believe in marriage, and if I come over, then…”

Before he could finish, Molly burst out laughing. It was so adorably old-fashioned and sweet coming from him. The sheer earnestness in his voice melted her heart. She hadn’t been inviting him over to sleep with her but rather to simply spend time together, talking and enjoying each other’s company. Yet his modesty had taken her words as an actual proposition.

“I’m not sleeping with you either,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile. “I believe in marriage, too. Just because I invited you to cuddle doesn’t mean we’re going to have some wild throwdown in the bedroom, buster.”

“Dang,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair and chuckling nervously. His sheepish grin made her heart skip a beat. “I mean, if you tried, I wouldn’t protest too much. I’d make a show of resisting, but then, you know—give up completely.”

Molly coul dn’t help but laugh again, her cheeks warming with a rosy blush that spread to the tips of her ears. Her heart felt impossibly full as if it had expanded to hold all the unexpected joy of this moment. It was incredible—this shift, this turn they had taken. Just days ago, they had been locked in a battle of sharp words and cold stares, each treating the other like an enemy to guard against. But now, they were leaning toward each other, opening up, daring to share fragments of themselves they’d kept hidden.

This openness was intoxicating, like stepping into the first warmth of spring after a long, bitter winter. It was welcome, healing even, filling a void she hadn’t realized was there. When he smiled at her—genuinely smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners—it felt like the sun breaking through clouds. Then, without hesitation, he turned and linked his hand with hers, his touch grounding her even as her thoughts raced.

They walked in companionable silence down the private walkway toward the parking lot, the world around them muted and distant, as if the universe had folded in on itself to make space for just them. It felt natural, effortless, and yet as they approached her car, she hesitated, the practical part of her brain catching up. Her steps faltered, and he noticed immediately, tilting his head to look at her with that mix of curiosity and concern she was beginning to adore.

“What?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

She bit her lip, suddenly sheepish. “Well, if I leave my car, then…”

He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a lopsided grin. “Then I can bring you back tomorrow.”

The simplicity of his solution made her laugh again, though this time it was more nervous than amused. She gave a small shrug, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I suppose you can sleep on the couch,” she said lightly, starting forward again.

Her words seemed to hit him like a jolt of electricity. This time, it was his turn to hesitate, his feet rooted to the ground as he stared at her, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amazement.

“What?” she asked, genuinely perplexed by his reaction.

“You sure move fast when you’re all in, don’t you?” he said hoarsely, his voice thick with something she couldn’t quite name. “Maybe I should just ask you to marry me now.”

“What?!” she yelped, stopping so abruptly that she nearly tripped. Her wide-eyed stare locked on his, her heart thundering in her chest. Surely, she hadn’t heard him right.

He held up his hands, a laugh escaping his lips. “I was talking about coming back to your place tomorrow to pick you up so we could come get your car—but you literally invited me to sleep over and?—”

“Whoa,” she cut him off, holding up a hand like a traffic cop. “Slow your roll, Romeo.” Her tone was sharp, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. “Yes, I invited you over—to talk and cuddle. But we already established we’re not sleeping together. I wouldn’t kick you out if it got late and you were tired. I’d toss you a blanket and pillow, giving you the couch. If I can’t trust you twenty feet away from me behind a locked door, then we have massive problems in our new relationship.”

His expression softened instantly, his hand reaching for hers again. “You can trust me,” he said with quiet conviction, his voice like a vow. “And for the record, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

Her eyes narrowed, her lips twitching in a mix of incredulity and amusement. “You sure know how to scare off a girl.”

“I’m not trying to scare you off,” he said, his voice steady but gentle. “I just want to make sure we’re both looking for the same thing.”

Her gaze s oftened, the teasing edge falling away. “A relationship,” she said simply.

“Exactly.” His tone was firm now, his sincerity unmistakable. “I’m not looking for a romp, a one-night stand, or some casual fling. I’m looking for forever.”

His words hung in the air between them, weighty and profound, yet somehow comforting. Molly’s heart thudded heavily in her chest, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she smiled—small, tentative, but real—because for the first time in a long time, forever didn’t sound so impossible.

“Good,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “Me too.”

A s they arrived at her apartment, Molly felt a thrill rush through her—a mix of nervous energy and a growing excitement that lit her up from the inside. There was something in Gerry’s gaze, an intensity that spoke of unspoken desires and unacknowledged feelings. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable but charged, as if the air was heavy with words neither dared to say. Both were lost in their thoughts, each acutely aware of how monumental this moment was. They were crossing a threshold, stepping toward a relationship they hadn’t even realized they craved until now.

Molly’s mind raced. Could this really be happening? She’d never imagined her carefully suppressed work crush on Gerry would evolve into something this profound, this deeply moving. It was terrifying, exhilarating. She stole another glance at him. His strong profile softened by the dim hallway light, and her chest tightened.

She was falling for him.

The realization came like a whisper, but it carried the weight of certainty. As absurd as it seemed, her imagination began to run wild. She saw them sharing la ughter over late-night talks, exchanging shy smiles across holiday dinner tables, building a life together filled with warmth and connection. He made her feel seen, special—like she belonged somewhere, like her soul was truly at home.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended, as she opened the door and stepped inside.

“Are you really asking, or is this a loaded question?” Gerry teased, his chuckle breaking the tension.

“I’m asking,” she said, smirking at the memory of their playful debates at work. “I think I could go for a grilled cheese. I’ve got a fresh loaf of sourdough and…”

“Yup,” he interrupted with a laugh, grinning at her. “I like food, and I’m pretty easy to please—as long as you’re not going to start talking about calories and fat and…”

“Gerry,” she cut in softly, her gaze steady. “Just keep up with the exercises, and I’m done nagging. When we’re away from work, I want us to relax, to be a couple instead of coworkers. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad.”

He blinked, taken aback, then smiled gently. “It’s in the past, right? So, how about some company in the kitchen? I like being around you, and I like being real with each other.”

Her heart did a little flip at his words. “I’d love some company,” she said, slipping off her shoes and trying not to feel self-conscious about her tiny apartment. It was cozy, with a killer view, but it suddenly felt even smaller with him in it. “This is it. My home away from the arena.”

“It’s nice,” he said, looking around. His tone was genuine, though his brows rose slightly. “You don’t have a lot of furniture.”

“I don’t have a lot of apartment,” she countered with a laugh. “It makes it easy to move, you know?”

“You’re not planning on moving again, are you?” he asked, his voice light, but his words carried a w eight that made her pause.

“Only if I need to look for another job. That’s how I ended up here.”

“Then you’re not moving again,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Unless I get traded, and then we’ll make it a dual proposition.”

Her stomach dropped. “I’m not sure it works like that. Wait—are you possibly getting traded?”

“There’s a rumor floating around the forums, the locker room, and the sports channels,” he admitted, his tone casual. “The big three are looking for some fresh meat—from Dallas.”

Her reaction was immediate, slamming the skillet onto the stove a little too loudly. “You’re kidding,” she said, eyes wide with disbelief. “Seriously?”

“It happens,” he said with a shrug. “Athletes move. Money, contracts, personalities—it’s part of the business. But don’t worry. My agent’s got me covered. Want me to grab the cheese?”

Her mouth opened, but no words came. Instead, she stared at him, and before she could protest, he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, his touch so tender it made her breath hitch.

“Does this mean you’d miss me?” he teased.

“Gerry…”

“I’d miss you,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “I’d miss you a lot. But don’t worry, okay? I’m not getting traded. My agent negotiated a killer deal. I’m too expensive for most teams.”

She studied his face, searching for any sign of unease, but he seemed genuinely unfazed. “You don’t seem upset about this,” she murmured.

“Because I’m not. Do you like Seattle?” he asked suddenly, the question tossed out like a grenade, hi s expression deadpan.

Her heart skipped a beat. “You’re joking,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He grinned wickedly. “I meant Calgary.”

She slapped his arm, glaring at him as he laughed, the sound warm and rich, filling the tiny apartment. The grilled cheese sizzled in the pan, a comforting sound amid the chaos of her thoughts. And as she watched him, his eyes crinkling with laughter, she couldn’t help but smile, her heart settling into a rhythm that felt oddly, wonderfully right.