Chapter 26: Running Away

-Molly's POV-

I was hiding from Scott. I could lie to everyone else, but it made no sense to lie to myself.
I had gone antique shopping with my mother, something I would never truly want to do normally. All of this just so I could avoid Scott when he woke up.
Why?
Well, that was a damned good question. Was I embarrassed by what happened last night? Yes, But not for the reasons I felt I should be embarrassed. I was mortified by my begging and pleading. I knew I should be more embarrassed by WHOM I was begging.
But I just couldn't bring myself to feel it. My rational mind kept reminding me we were two consenting adults not related by blood AT ALL.
But every time I thought about last night, my words would play over and over again in my head, and a flush would race through me.
Though, it wasn't all embarrassment. Every time it came to mind, there was a rush of heat that would hit me, throwing me off guard. Before I knew it, I would be replaying the night, and my breath would quietly grow rugged.
A few times, I'd had to excuse myself altogether to go somewhere private until I could get a handle on myself again. This had prompted my mother to ask several times if I was okay. Which had only made me blush worse.
"Yes! Yes! I'm fine, Mom. It's just a rather warm day," I would insist, hoping she believed me.
Whether or not she did, she would let it go each time.
Mom had finally called her enthusiastic shopping spree quits in time for lunch. I had never been happier to find a place to sit down and drink whatever liquid they put in front of me before I melted into a puddle. Not because of the temperature outside. All in all, it was a rather nice day.
But the looping memory of last night kept my body almost twice as warm as normal, or at least that's how it felt.
We sat down at a cute little cafe and drank some fruity concoction that the waiter had suggested while eating a small salad. Well, my mother ate her salad. I just mostly pushed the food around on my plate.
"Honey, are you okay?" my mother asked, sounding almost exasperated.
My head flew up as I looked at her in surprise. She sounded like she was frustrated with me, and for a moment, it baffled me.
"What?" I asked her, startled.
"You have been incredibly quiet and distracted the whole time we've been out today. I just asked you a question, and I'll guarantee you didn't hear it. Don't get me wrong, I have loved our day together, but I feel as if you aren't really here with me. I don't want to complain since we're together. But I am starting to get worried!"
I felt the full body flush again and took another sip of the drink in front of me. I almost choked as my mind called up a quick snippet from last night. I had to squash it so hard that I almost gave myself a headache. I was beginning to worry that there was a little demon in my head tormenting me and trying to get me to admit everything.
"It's fine, Mom. I'm just a bit distracted today. I'm sorry. I was hoping getting out of the house would clear my head. I really have enjoyed spending time with you!"
I insisted, forcing a smile on my face.
Mom's face softened, and then she reached across the table to grab my hand.
"Honey, I can tell your mind is distracted, and you look like you're running a fever. Why do you just head home, and I'll call Hannah to send a car when I'm ready to come home," Mom replied.
Her normally flawless, thanks to Botox, was wrinkled with concern as she reached over and touched my forehead.
I gave her another weak smile. "I'm fine, Mom. I promise. Maybe, after lunch, we could go walk through The Louvre."
When my mother's brows furrowed, I knew I had just screwed up royally. While The Louvre was a beautiful place to go, my mother was the art fanatic in the house, not me. The minute I said I wanted to go there, my mother was immediately suspicious.
"Molly, wha-"
My phone rang loudly, interrupting what she was about to say. I was so relieved that I didn't even look at the caller id before answering it.
"Hello?" I asked, hoping that the relief didn't show in my voice.
My heart dropped, then sped up as the flush rushed back over my body.
"Scott," I stated, wondering if it had sounded as breathless as it had felt.
I suddenly felt like I had jumped out of the frying pan and right into the fire.
"That Scott?" my mother asked unnecessarily.
My eyes desperately searched her face for some indication that she suspected what was going through my head. But there was nothing.
"Molly?" her mother prompted.
"Oh! Yes, sorry. It's Scott," I replied to my mother.
Calm... the hell... down, Molly. I chided myself angrily. It's not unusual for Scott to call me. My mother wouldn't even think twice about it.
"Good! Tell him to come and grab you. I'll go to The Louvre alone," Mom suggested loud enough that Scott could hear.
"Sounds great! Where are you?" Scott jumped on it.
"No!" I denied him quickly and then took a breath. "No. It's okay. I'll go with you."
"Molly! Don't be ridiculous! You hate art and will be miserable the whole time. Go home, and we'll catch up later," my mother insisted.
I grimaced. "I don't hate art-"
"Just tell me where you are, and I'll come to get you!" Scott told me, sounding exasperated.
"Just go! I'll be fine! I'll even call Claudia and see if she can come," my mother informed me.
They both began to speak at the same time. Trying to concentrate on one or the other overwhelmed me.
"Fine!" I shouted, my nerves frayed.
My mother reeled back, not used to me snapping at her. More to my shock, Scott went silent as well.
"Fine," I repeated, trying to reign in my temper. "I will go home. But I will call a taxi."
I had no intention of going home. Scott was there. But I really didn't want to stick with my mother either. My choice to try to keep myself busy so I wouldn't think about last night was not working. It was time to try something else. No choice in my head included going back home where Scott was.