Chapter 15

This morning,I feel almost human. I still look like I got run over by a garbage truck but I’m desperate to get out of my apartment and into the fresh air.

I have a particular destination in mind.

First, I stop by the garage. Jerry takes one look at my face and tells me to take a few more days off. Should I be grateful or worried he’s planning to fire me?

I can’t stress about it today.

My engine thrums beneath me on the highway. Aches and pains still rule my body, but for the first time in months, my mind feels more centered and grounded. Thank fuck I’m home in time to enjoy at least a few weeks of perfect riding weather before I’ll have to park my Harley for the winter. The sharp scent of motor oil mingles with the earthier aroma of damp, fallen leaves—my favorite scents of fall.

I tighten my grip on the handlebars and twist the throttle. My shoulder protests the movement and I relax my grip. An urgent need to see Molly pulls me along. Even if I don’t talk to her or reveal myself to her, I have to know she’s okay.

It’s loud, but my bike will still blend in better than my vintage muscle car with the identifiable red and purple pinstripes. Not many cars with that color scheme around. I love my Harley but damn, that Ninja I was able to take for a joyride would be a lot more fun for this trip.

I’d peeked at the copy of her schedule Remy had stuck to the refrigerator, then looked up the college online and tried to figure out the best place to catch a glimpse of Molly. I have an idea of where she’ll be on the small campus and when. If I know my girl, she’ll probably stop for coffee and a muffin after class. I’ll try the coffee shop that’s near her English 101 class first, and go from there.

The ride only takes an hour. I can easily see myself making this trip to visit Molly whenever she wants me to.

If she wants me here at all.

I slow for the exit, guiding the bike into the small college town. Large trees line the streets, their branches meeting overhead, creating an almost tunnel-like feeling as I guide my bike into the visitor parking lot and tuck it into a spot in the back, hidden by a big monster truck and a prickly green bush.

I take off my helmet and slip an old green ball cap over my head—careful to avoid my stitches. My hair’s a bit longer—I really need to get it cut—so it sticks out from under the cap, tickling my ears. I zip my hooded sweatshirt. Pulling the hood up will probably draw more attention to me. My disguise isn’t great, but it should be enough. Molly isn’t expecting to see me here. Hell, I might be overestimating my detective skills and not even be able to find her today. What if she decided to skip class? No, I can’t see Molly doing that. She didn’t work hard and spend a fortune on school just to blow off classes.

I grab my backpack with my laptop, hoping it’ll provide me with camouflage among all the other students. Not like I’d know how to blend in with this kind of crowd. I haven’t set foot on a college campus in the daylight since my sophomore year of high school when we all took a trip to the Empire State’s campus library. That campus had seemed way too big and overwhelming—like its own city. This campus is much nicer. Smaller. I can picture Molly on these sidewalks, darting between ivy-covered brick buildings to get to her next class on time.

I head to the small cafe in the middle of the campus. It’s in the basement of a building. Christ, I’m too big to hide if I run into Molly on the stairs. There’s no way she won’t recognize me this close up. I move down the stairs as quickly as my bad knee allows and push my way through the heavy glass doors. The scent of roasted coffee beans and cinnamon slaps me in the face. Four people stand in line ahead of me.

There’s an empty booth, three empty tables and a long counter with a few unoccupied stools. The only spot that gives me a clear view of the door is the booth near the back. Damn, I hope no one takes it.

The line moves fast. I order a black coffee and a blueberry-lemon muffin. If they serve these every day, there’s a good chance this is where Molly stops for breakfast.

I flick my gaze to the menu above my head. For a second, I panic, thinking they only accept student meal cards as payment but when I hand over a twenty, the cashier accepts it without comment and gives me my change. I drop the coins in the tip jar and slide down to the next window to wait for my order. It’s waiting for me and I grab it, then hustle to the table in the back.

I slouch down on the bench, take out my laptop, open it, but don’t bother turning it on. It’s just camouflage.

Eyes on the door, I sip my coffee and break off bits of the muffin and try to ignore the agony in my knee. The ride home’s gonna be rough. A steady stream of students rotates in and out of the cafe, their chatter echoing in the small space. People meet between classes, sit at tables and gossip about class. A few kids are busy on their phones, ear buds in, blocking out the world.

After the last few months I’ve had, I feel like I’ve landed on an alien planet. None of these kids look like they could last two seconds in a cage without crying for their mom.

I don’t belong here.

A heavy knot of doubt creeps up and chokes me lifeless. As much as I hated being at the Supreme Fighter mansion, I didn’t feel as out of place there as I feel now, listening to this nonstop babble.

The door swings open and my heart thuds faster. Molly.

Her long, brown hair’s a little shorter, and is it a lighter shade of brown? It’s layered or curled or something…different. But it’s definitely her. I’ve spent years memorizing the curve of her cheek, the set of her shoulders, her every movement.

She’s with a tall girl I don’t recognize. They seem familiar enough to stand arm to arm in line, talking while they eye the menu.

Molly’s making new friends at school. That’s good. Does she get along with her roommate? After living with Remy for the last few years, she should be able to tolerate the quirks of any roommate.

A solemn mood seems to cling to Molly. She nods and gives half-smiles to her friend. But her usual grin and laughter seem to be missing.

She’s between classes, not headed to a party. Of course she’s serious.

With my head cocked like an eager golden retriever, her voice is clear above the other noise as she steps up to place her order. “Vanilla pumpkin latte and a pumpkin spice scone, please.”

Scone?The fuck? The girl has never turned down a blueberry muffin as long as I’ve known her, let alone a lemon-blueberry one. It’s not like I bought the last one. An entire tray of them were in the case.

I slide down in the booth and tug my cap lower as Molly slowly walks to the end of the counter to pick up her order. The guy who hands it to her greets her by name. He touches her hand way longer than necessary as he passes Molly the bag. She gives an uninterested but polite smile and turns away.

Sorry, buddy. She’s mine.

But not really.

Not anymore.

Juliet hinted that Molly had a terrible summer. Remy hadn’t been as delicate—he said it had been hell on her after that stupid episode aired.

It looks like things are back to normal for her. She’s starting over in a new place. Seems like she’s adjusting to college well. What am I supposed to do—approach her like nothing happened and shatter the peace she’s found here?

I care about her way too much to be that guy.

Molly and her friend head out of the cafe.

I wait a few beats then shove my laptop in my backpack, grab my coffee and go. That short glimpse of Molly wasn’t enough.

Outside, I duck my head out of the building first and look both ways. The girls have moved fast, already halfway down the long sidewalk to my right.

I hurry out, slip my arms through my backpack straps, jam my hands in my pockets and hustle to get closer. Not too close. Just enough to catch Molly’s scent in the air or hear her voice again.

Every cell in my body wants to continue following her for the rest of the day. To see where her classes are. Where her dorm is. Who she hangs out with.

No.Confronting her here would be a shitty thing to do. I’m so fucking proud of her and I love her too damn much to do anything that might upset her when she’s focused on school.

Even casually dressed in loose green sweats and a big black hoodie, Molly’s still the most beautiful person anywhere. My gaze hasn’t strayed from her once.

Hoodie.Wait.

I almost stumble over my feet.

That’s mine. One of the many hoodies she’s stolen from me over the years. It’s old. A faded roses and brass knuckles design Vapor drew years ago spills over the back of the sweatshirt. If it’s the shirt I’m thinking of, Stonewall is embroidered into one of the sleeves. She went no contact with me after the Kiki incident, but she brought one of my old sweatshirts with her to college? Molly’s way too sentimental for that to be an accident.

She hasn’t given up on me. On us.

My confidence returns with a vengeance.

I’m going to win back my girl.

Not today, but soon.