Biker's Virgin
Page 373
“No.” Ben sounded confident.
“How do you know?”
“Because I make sure security monitors any and all people staying at this resort who have not actually checked into the resort. Our suite guests are given leeway here and there, but anyone else is required to check in a visitor, regardless of how they’re related.”
“Huh… I didn’t realize you did that.”
“You don’t realize a lot of what I do.”
“Okay, okay, let’s assess your value later,” I said impatiently. “Would you happen to know if Molly went back with one of her dates…to their hotels, I mean?”
“No, she hasn’t,” Ben replied, and again, he sounded confident.
“How do you know?” I asked again.
“Security,” he replied simply. “Molly has slept at the resort every single night since she arrived here. And since she doesn’t bring up any of her dates, I’m safely surmising that she hasn’t slept with anyone—yet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, taken by an irrational panic.
“Molly is an attractive young woman,” he said. “At some point, she’s going to sleep with someone.”
I gritted my teeth together. “Fuck,” I said, under my breath.
“What is your hang up with this woman?” he asked curiously.
“You yourself just mentioned how attractive she is.”
 
; “Sure,” he nodded. “But so are all the women you’ve dated in the past. Why is this girl different?”
I looked up at Ben, and a part of me realized that this was the first time we were having a real, personal conversation. It was strangely freeing. “I don’t know,” I said. “She’s just stuck in my head.”
“For how long?”
“What?”
“Has she always been stuck in your head?” he asked. “Or has she only been on your mind since she arrived at the resort?”
I thought about that question for a moment. I thought about the six years that stood between us and wondered… Had I thought of her often during that time? Did I feel as though something was missing, without really being able to put my finger on it? Sometimes I felt wisps of longing, but I had never associated those feelings with Molly...not directly anyway.
Then little things kept coming back to me. It was almost as though my own mind was throwing the evidence in my face. I remembered ordering pizza with mushroom for no other reason than Molly liked it. I remembered looking twice at every blonde woman I met, hoping to find some part of Molly hidden beneath her features. I remembered having a fondness for horror movies because it reminded me of those cozy nights when Jason, Molly, and I would pick a new horror flick and watch it in the family room.
Had I spent half my life pining for a woman without even realizing it? The thought seemed almost too preposterous to consider.
“I… She Jason’s sister,” I said. “She’s always been on the periphery of my thoughts.”
Ben pursed his lips at me.
“What?” I demanded.
“We’re friends right?” he clarified first.
“Yes,” I said reluctantly.
“Then as your friend, it is my duty to inform you that this level of preoccupation with a woman is not normal—unless, of course, you harbor deep feelings for her.”
I narrowed my eyes at Ben. “I take it back; we’re not friends.”