Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons 2)

“Please?”

“Melanie,” I warned.

“Please? Please? Please?” Each time she said the word, she changed her tone of voice. I knew from experience that she’d just keep going if I didn’t stop her.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “But I’m not getting all gussied up.”

“Totally cool,” Mel said quickly, lifting her hands in a placating gesture. “Wear whatever you want.”

I huffed as Rebel began to laugh at something in her book.

“You want to hang out with Heather tonight?” I asked Rebel, lifting her out of the basket.

“I’m just going to go call the sisterbeast while you’re still telling me yes,” Mel said, skipping out of the room.

“You realize your Auntie Mel is annoying, right?” I asked Reb as she watched me with wide eyes. “I mean, she’s fun sometimes, but man does she drive me nuts.”

Rebel reached up to put her hand on my cheek.

“Can you say Mama?” I asked softly as Reb tilted her head to the side. “I know you can. I heard you saying it in your room the other day. You want to try? Ma-ma.”

She quickly shook her head.

“Yes. Say Ma-ma.”

Another head shake.

“Ma-ma. Ma-ma. Ma-ma.” I said over and over, my voice growing growly and making Reb burst into a fit of giggles.

“You’re so stubborn,” I exclaimed loudly, kissing her on the forehead.

“We’re set for tonight!” Mel called from the doorway.

* * *

A few hours later, Mel’s seventeen-year-old sister was pushing through the doorway, her bright purple mohawk sticking up at least six inches from her scalp.

“You changed the color,” I said with a smile, walking over to pull her into a tight hug. I loved Heather. She looked so much like Mel, but where Mel always dressed super trendy, Heather made sure she stuck out in a crowd. Hence the purple mohawk that had been red the last time I’d seen it.

“Yeah, the roots were out of control,” she said, hugging me back. “Now, where’s my baby?”

“Sisterbeast!” Mel called as she came out of the bathroom.

“Gerta,” Heather replied, calling Mel by the middle name she hated.

“We shouldn’t be very late,” I started, stuffing my phone into my pocket.

“Yes, we will,” Mel cut in. “Very late.”

“No worries.” Heather shrugged. “I’ve got no place to be.”

Just then, Rebel came out of her room, waddling down the hallway with a huge smile on her face.

“Reb!” Heather called excitedly, dropping to her knees. “You’ve got hair just like mine!”

Rebel giggled as she threw herself at Heather with all the force of her twenty-pound body. I’d used some of the colored hair goop that Heather bought her for her first birthday to spike up the top of her hair, so she looked like a little blue dinosaur.

“Just make sure you wash it out before she goes to bed, okay?” I said as they giggled together on the floor. “That stuff stains everything.”

“No prob, mama,” Heather said, flicking her hand at me in a shooing motion. “Get outta here.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, leaning over to kiss Rebel on the cheek. “Thanks, sisterbeast.”

I followed Mel to the car and climbed in her passenger seat, immediately turning to her once I had my seatbelt on.

“Do not leave me in the bar again,” I warned. “You can drop me off at home if Rocky decides to rock your world again.”

“Look at you with the puns,” Mel replied happily.

“I’m serious, Melanie.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just see how it goes.”

I huffed and fell back against the seat. I really didn’t want to go out, and I was still irritated that she’d talked me into it. I hadn’t actually left the house in yoga pants, though I’d considered it. Instead, I’d pulled on a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt I’d gotten at the Down Syndrome Buddy Walk a couple years before. I was PMSing, I had a zit on my forehead, and I’d refused to put any makeup on in a lame attempt of protest.

As we pulled up to the same bar we’d gone to three weeks earlier, I wished I’d used at least a little foundation to cover the zit.

The place wasn’t as packed as it had been before, but there was still a pretty big crowd of people playing pool and sitting at the tables around the room. After a quick look around, I deflated a little when I realized Will wasn’t there.

Good. I didn’t want to see him anyway.

“Come on,” Mel said, grabbing my hand. “I’ll grab our drinks, you grab that table in the back.”

I made my way across the bar, wishing I’d gussied up a little as I passed a bunch of women who were obviously looking for a hook-up. Their hair and makeup were flawless and almost every one of them were wearing dresses.

I looked like a hobo in comparison.

Oh, well. I lifted my chin a little as I pulled out my phone and placed it on the table as I sat down. Hopefully, Mel would have a drink or two and we could leave. I glanced down at my shoes and felt my face heat as I pulled my feet under my chair. The checkered Vans I was wearing were at least ten years old, and I’d worn them out forgetting that Mel had filled in some of the white checks with Sharpie so it looked like I had a digital dick and balls on the toes of my shoes.