My heart literally skipped a beat. "I d-do?"

He nodded, green eyes locked on mine, and gave me back my earlier words, "I really like it."

"Um…" Face burning from the attention, I roughly cleared my throat and looked away, more affected by his presence than was good for me.

"I missed you, Dolly," he said then, snapping my attention back to his beautiful face. "More than a lot."

"Yeah, D." I blew out a pained breath and fell back into step beside him as we walked. "I missed you, too."

21 Molly

By Saturday afternoon, I had successfully binged my way through three boxsets of Styles and Scott, before reluctantly acknowledging that it was time to get my butt in gear and stop wallowing in self-pity over a bunch of girls who didn’t know a damn thing about me.

It was ridiculous to allow what happened at school ruin my mood all weekend, but I was weak like that, and my skin wasn't nearly as thick as I pretended it to be.

Still, I made a conscious decision to force the mean girls from my mind and do something productive.

After showering and getting dressed, and with nothing better to do, I decided to deep clean the kitchen.

With Redneck Woman by Gretchen Wilson blasting from the iPod dock in my kitchen, I sang the lyrics at the top of my lungs, releasing every ounce of angst and energy that had built up inside of me after what could only be described as a day from hell at school.

With a mop in my hands, and my favorite country music playlist on shuffle, I glided across the kitchen tiles, combining an impressive display of air-guitar and cleaning as I went.

I was so caught up in the music, so dang wrapped up in my less than stellar performance of Carrie Underwood's Cowboy Casanova, that I didn’t hear the doorbell ring.

With the handle of the mop pressed to my mouth, I danced around the kitchen.

Clad in a baggy t-shirt, my grey pajama shorts, and fluffy socks, I climbed onto the kitchen island and hit the high notes with determined relish.

It wasn’t until the sound of a throat clearing, followed by a loud knock, filled my ears, that I realized I had an audience.

"Oh my god!" I screamed, flinging the mop at the tall figure leaning against the kitchen doorframe before leaping down from the island and hiding behind it. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"The back door was open," Daryl explained, looking sheepish. Yeah, because I had left it open to dry the floor. "Sorry. I did ring the bell out front, but you were, ah, busy." He smirked. "Didn’t mean to interrupt the show, Celine."

"Funny." Mortified, I stayed hidden behind the island, with only my head peeking up, and my heart hammering violently in my chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I was driving past your house." Kicking off his shoes, Daryl walked inside and set the plastic bags he was holding on top of the island. "I figured I'd stop and see if you wanted to hang out."