Page 109 of Not Dating Material
I’d thought we were on the same page. That he had fun with me and that the sex is goddamn incredible. We’re friendly. And if he likes the friend stuff and he likes the sex stuff and he thinks I’m cute, why, whyyy am I still not good enough?
Don’t I deserve to have a man fight for me for once? Don’t I deserve to have a man make me feel like I’m everything to them?
Seven takes over making the coffees while I sink into a stool at the counter. I watch him move around the kitchen, back muscles tensed, and wish I could read his mind. The tension between us is growing thick and not in a hot I-want-to-bend-you-over-the-island-and-take-you-to-pound-town kind of way.
“Forget what I said,” I manage.
Seven doesn’t look convinced. “You know what we are.”
“Yeah, for sure.” But do I? Because Seven acts one way and then gets all cold the next. I hate it. I hate the games and the guesswork and the constant need to chase after people.
I promised myself I wasn’t going to do that anymore, and here I am, repeating all the same mistakes.
“Sugar?” he asks, but my brain is already overloaded.
“No, thanks.”
He passes over my mug and drinks his at the sink, looking out over the backyard.
“Is everything—” I start, but Madden walks inside and lets out a “ho-ho” sound at the sight of me.
“Seeing Damien today,” Madden says, pulling up at the stool beside me. “Are you in or what? I don’t want to leave the guy hanging.”
“Oh, ah …”
Madden, clearly not picking up on the tension in the room, adds, “Think he’s ready, Seven?”
Seven turns toward us slowly, hip propped on the sink. “What do you mean?”
“There’s this guy I do work for sometimes who’s exactly Molly’s type. He’s got a few houses under his belt, been divorced for long enough that he’s not all mopey about it, and when I showed him the photo of Molly, I swear his eyes turned into love hearts. Mols said he was going to check with you if he’s ready.”
“That’s not what I said,” I hurry, hoping Seven doesn’t get the wrong idea.
“Hmm, pretty sure that’s exactly what you said.” Madden frowns, gaze swinging from me to Seven and back again. “Everything okay here?”
“Totally.” Seven dumps the contents of his mug down the drain and sets his cup in the dishwasher. “I was going to mention that to Molly today, actually. He’s ready to get back out there. This Damien guy sounds fan-fucking-tastic.”
My mouth drops.
Madden blinks at him. “Dude, did you just swear?”
“I’m going to be late for work.” Seven’s eyes meet mine. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” Then he leaves, and a moment later, I catch the sound of his heavy steps jogging up the stairs.
“Tell me it wasn’t just me,” Madden says. “But that was weird, right?”
“Very weird.”
“Damn, okay, so … do I tell Damien yes?”
But I’m still staring after Seven, still trying to work out what that was. I’m sure I detected jealousy, sure of it, but what if I’m wrong? What if I say no to this perfectly lovely guy and Seven still doesn’t want me?
“I’ve gotta go deal with something,” I tell Madden, sliding from the stool.
“Doesn’t really answer my question. Yes? No? Maybe? I’ve gotta leave for work soon.”
“I’ll text you.”
I practically run through the house, wanting to catch Seven before he leaves. There’s no way I can get through an entire day without having this conversation, and I’m done with being left guessing.
