Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons 2)

“Well,” she said, drawing out the word as she watched me take a bite of my pizza. “None of that has anything to do with banging Will.”

She smiled as I glared and stuffed even more pizza in my mouth.

* * *

“Are you sure?” I asked Heather later that night as I changed Rebel’s Pull-Up.

“Yeah, she’s slept with me tons of times,” Heather replied. “Sleepover status: achieved.”

“I know, but you guys aren’t at our house,” I said worriedly as Rebel reached behind her on the bed and pulled a stuffed animal against her face.

“You’re right down the hall, Molly. I’m pretty sure we can hack it.”

“Okay,” I said, sighing. “Just bring her back if it doesn’t work.”

“I’m not coming anywhere near this room after lights out,” Heather joked, raising her hands out in front of her. “That guy Will has a serious thing for you.”

“We have history,” I replied darkly.

“Don’t we all,” she said, nodding her head. “But sometimes that’s all it is, just history.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re talking about?” I asked dubiously as I lifted Rebel into my arms.

“None whatsoever,” Heather admitted. “Now gimme that baby.”

“Good night, princess,” I said softly, kissing Rebel’s hair. “You wanna go with Hawk?”

She didn’t answer me, but turned toward Heather and sleepily reached for her.

“Boom,” Heather joked. “Told ya.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, pulling all of Rebel’s sleeping supplies off the bed and stuffing them into Heather’s arms.

I dropped to the bed with a huff after they were gone. It was late, and I should have been tired, but I’d slept all day. I was wide-awake and had absolutely nothing to do. I wondered if there were any snacks to be had in the little kitchen off the side of the bar. I’d never been in there, but I’d seen people come out of there with all sorts of food.

I got to my feet and shuffled quietly out of the room, hearing different voices coming from random bedrooms down the hallway. It was close quarters, especially for the moms that had more than one kid with them. I could hear people making beds and arguing about phones—I was pretty sure that one was Farrah—and a deeper voice was talking to Trix. Probably her brother, Leo. He’d introduced himself earlier. He wasn’t a super friendly guy, but that was probably because when he’d stopped to talk to me, I’d jerked in surprise at the scars on his face. I’d felt like shit afterward, especially since I knew what it felt like when people stared, but he’d seemed even more uncomfortable with my apology.

“—they’re spillin’ all sorts of shit,” Casper was saying as I reached the main room. “Kozlov’s soft. Dragon says he’s singin’.”

“Kozlov’s Rocky’s ex’s pop, right?” Will asked, making my eyes widen.

“Yep. The man’s—” Casper’s words cut off as I cleared my throat.

“Hey, sugar,” Will said, pushing off the bar. “Thought you were goin’ to bed.”

I glanced at the other men, smiling nervously when Amy’s husband, Poet, shot me a little wave.

“I was,” I said quietly when Will got to me. “But I was kind of hungry.”

“Figures,” Will said, grabbing my hand. “You barely ate today.”

“Get what you want,” Casper said with a nod. “Food’s there for everyone.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled as Will pulled me past them.

“Finish this in a bit,” Will said, lifting his chin.

“Eh, that’s fine, boyo,” Poet said. “Take care of your woman.”

My eyes went wide when we got into the kitchen. The appliances were all restaurant sized and stainless steel, and the pantry took up two full walls. They had everything, from Froot Loops to big cans of baked beans.

“Holy crap,” I muttered.

“Whatcha hungry for?” Will asked, moving toward one of the walls. “Salty or sweet?”

“Sweet,” I said, searching the shelves. “Oh, a Twinkie,” I ordered, pointing to a huge box of them near the ceiling.

“You want a Twinkie?” he asked, walking to where I’d pointed. “Classy.”

“Twinkies are good,” I argued as he shook the box, then stuffed his hand in the side and pulled two out. “I hope both of those are for me.”

He shot me a look and tossed me the snacks before reaching back in the box and grabbing one for himself. “You want something to drink?”

“No, I’ve got some water back in the room,” I answered around the pastry thing in my mouth. Was it a pastry? It was a kind of cake. Sort of.

“Come on,” Will said, herding me back down the hallway while I stuffed my face. God, those things were good.

When we got to his room, I expected him to leave me there, but he didn’t. Instead, he closed the door behind us and leaned against the dresser to eat his Twinkie.

“Good, right?” I asked, opening my second one.

“It’s a Twinkie,” he answered blandly, stuffing it into his mouth.

“You’re going to choke,” I pointed out, biting mine in half.