The Reckless Collision

19| Smells Like Teen Spirit

"We didn't go that far yet," Sam answered, watching Spot wiggle his tail.

"What? Why?" Molly questioned, her voice felt almost hysterical.

"Remember, how I lied to Scott about my period?" Sam raised her eyebrow.

"Oh, okay." Molly giggled. "Here, take this." She gave Sam a tray. "And we can have some wine." She swayed a bottle of white wine, Ray, and Sam brought.

The girls took everything they might need from the kitchen and went to the living room. Crossing the corridor again, Spot followed them, wiggling his tail, and tapping his nails against the wooden floor.

Mason sat on a couch, and Ray rested in a big armchair. Some tension in the room remained visible as the girls walked in.

"Why aren't you guys playing?" Molly asked, putting wine and glasses on the small table in the middle of the room.

"He hates me," Ray blurted out, motioning toward Mason.

"Babe." Molly peered furiously at Mason, putting her hands on her hips.

"I don't hate him." Mason frowned. "He beat me at my game, babe." He looked up at Molly.

"That's so great," Molly said, making Ray smile as Mason pouted toward his girlfriend. "What? No one won against you, and now you can stop calling yourself Speed King," she explained, sitting down beside Mason on the couch, tapping his knee.

Sam placed down a tray with snacks on the same table as the wine. She looked for a place to sit down. Raymond caught her hand and pulled her toward himself, inviting Sam to sit on his lap. What she should've mentioned to him, she wasn't fond of displaying affection in front of other people. Holding hands felt fine, but not much more than that.

So she froze when Ray required this revealing act. But seeing emotions in his brown eyes made her overlook her beliefs. Therefore, Sam sat down on his lap, throwing her legs over the side of the armchair. His legs will probably fall asleep soon, anyway.

Mason poured the wine for everyone, and Molly turned on some music. And they chatted, savoring the snacks.

"So, Ray, tell us about yourself," Molly said, sipping the beverage.

Ray glanced at Sam. "There is not much to tell. But you can ask whatever you want," A wineglass occupied Ray's left hand. As the right one stroked Sam's back, giving her a slight shiver.

"Okay then," Molly said, tapping her finger on her lips. "What's your favorite color."

Ray scoffed. "Does that truly matter? My favorite color, really?" he asked and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, so you want hard questions?" Molly asked, Ray, confirmed her suggestion with a slow nod. "How many girlfriends did you have before, Sam?"

"Two," he said, sipping the wine.

Molly laughed. "You realize how unbelievable that sounds?" she asked.

Ray looked at Samantha. "I told you." He smiled at Molly. "That's the truth, take it or leave it," he added.

"But you are a rock star—" Ray quickly cut off Molly.

"I'm not different from other people. Just because my career choice gives me a certain label, it doesn't mean that assumptions fit my character," Ray explained in a firm tone. From the manner Ray spoke, it sounded like this wasn't the first time he explained himself on this topic.

"Okay—We don't need to know about his girlfriends. Right, babe?" Mason tried to lighten the mood. "How old are you, Ray?"

"I will be twenty-five in a month," Ray replied.