Page 42 of Not Dating Material

Derek nods. “Good. Xander should have more than just him to rely on.”

Chapter 11

SEVEN

It’s killing me not to hear anything. My client knows something is up, but we don’t talk about it. She just keeps throwing me concerned looks between flinching with pain. The way I’m fighting with myself to stop from running out of here is next-level, but Molly said he can handle it.

I don’t believe him for a second, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Taking the gamble with Xander makes me feel like a failure. He needs me. If I could quit my job and make sure I’m always there for him, I would. But I need the money, and Suri pays well. Really gosh darn well.

So well that he expects bums in seats when we have a booking. The customers come first, and the few times I’ve had to ditch for Xander, he’s been understanding but not impressed. He’s never said a thing about me risking my job, but I also don’t want to get to the point where he has to.

It’s what stops me from leaving, no matter what Molly said.

And hey, by this point, we’ve got things down pat. Derek will do his calming medical magic, and it’ll get Xander back to himself. The day he had a panic attack while we waited for Gabe’s antihistamines was probably the luckiest moment of our lives.

Those emergency visits were sending us both broke.

It’s a pretty bleak day when the location of a panic attack is “lucky.”

“There you go,” I say, wiping off the woman’s tattoo. She told me her name when she got here, but that information was lost the second I got the call from Molly—if only she’d had her own name tattooed on her instead of her kids’.

“Thank you. It looks amazing.”

I manage a friendly smile and lead her to the front for payment. Once she’s gone, I immediately grab my phone and almost break the screen hitting Xander’s number. He answers after a few rings.

“I’m here and I hate myself,” he says in his bored voice. It’s the tone I hate most. I’d take our arguments and his petty insults over this tone.

Because when Xander sounds bored, he’s disassociating from himself. I have no idea if that’s the exact medical term or whatever because he still hasn’t been to see a damn psychologist, so I’ve had to do my own research. And since I’m a bit of an idiot, my research doesn’t always go well.

But after an attack that really gets to him, sometimes he just … checks out. Empties of feeling.

“That bad, huh?”

“Well, I almost made myself pass out, and Molly saw it all, so yeah, good times.”

“It’s been a while since something hit you this hard.”

“I’m fine. I just love being messed up in the head. It’s my favorite thing about myself.”

I clench my jaw. Yeah, I definitely prefer when Xander is mad at me over this. Petty insults directed my way, I can take. When he directs them toward himself, I want to shake him.

“How was Molly?”

“A complete peach. Did everything you said. It was very subby of him.”

I ignore that last part. “Good to hear.”

“Makes me hate myself even more.”

“What?” It’s a mission to keep my frustration under control. “Why?”

“Because I’ve probably freaked him the fuck out and ruined any chance of you two being together.”

“Can we not go there again?”

“Well, there’s no point now, is there?”

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