AN: Why did I write this!? I have two other longer stories I should be working on! But this wouldn't get out of my head until I wrote enough of it to post.
I have two more chapters to start off with and a planned ending I'll get to when I feel like writing Molly again. This should be short and sweet. Fingers crossed. Then winced a little at the dull monotone I'd found myself using more and more lately. Gresham was probably still out to lunch so, as the only one here, I put aside the barcode scanner and the box of recipe books to make sure we weren't gonna be shoplifted or pranked again.
Fuckin' teenagers Sighing at the endless march of time, I hopped down from my stool and wove my way through the haphazardly stacked boxes. The rainbow curtain of beads jingled as I stepped out behind the counter of Gresham's Books. I fiddled with the pamphlets displaying various nerdy activities Brandon insisted we start having on the weekend.
Credit where credit is due, sales had gone up once we started hosting tabletop sessions and card game tournaments. Welcome to Gresham's Books. The tall redheaded man dressed in a crimson blazer and charcoal gray slacks spun on one shiny heel to face me. Golden eyes glinted as he strode toward me with a growing smirk, as if he knew he was hitting all of teenage Molly's kinks at once. My eyes didn't know where to look! His sharp jawline and high cheekbones? The lips I wanted to bite?
The flame like hair that poured to his shoulders and drew the eye to his bare chest with its rippling muscles and down to the bulge in hisβ. Forgive me for a moment while my brains unscramble themselves and I accept the fact that my favorite pair of panties are a lost cause. I stood as straight and tall as I could, which isn't saying much, flicked my head to get loose hair out of my bright red face and gave him my best unimpressed glare.
