Page 59 of Not Catching Love

“Angry. I’d want to fix it.”

“Because you care about him.”

Xander nods. “Sometimes more than Seven.”

That’s surprising. “I thought Seven was everything to you.”

“He is. But Seven can look after himself. Molly’s … precious. Too breakable.”

“Molly seems like a very capable man, not that I know him well.”

Xander thinks for a long moment. “They’re mine, you know. Both of them.”

“I know.”

“And if anything happens between … I know I joke, but, like, us or … whoever. If I ever find someone who doesn’t get sick of me one day, they’ll be his as well.”

It’s like a knife to my fucking chest every time he says things like that. Sick of him? No one can get sick of Xander. I’ve seen the way his friends love him. The way the residents love him. How much Seven and Molly care. And I know how I feel about him as well.

My fingers find his cheek, andfuck me, it’s so soft. His eyes drift closed, and my heart is beating out of my chest.

“Xander, I?—”

Xander’s eyes snap open. “Now!” He lets go and flings away from me. The chains untangle in an aggressive twist that shoots me one way and yanks me the other. I nearly lose it backward off the seat, and when I’m sure it’s stopped trying to murder me, I suck down a breath and look over at him.

Xander’s whole face is flushed bright.

“Never again.”

He cracks up laughing as I’m still trying to orient myself.

I’m never going to survive him.

Chapter Twenty-One

Xander

I have exactly one iota of willpower left, and it’s almost depleted. I fully expect it will be gone by the end of the night, which is why I’m finally going to show Derek my “art.” He’s going to be woefully unimpressed, but if that somehow still leads to sympathy sex, I’ll take it.

Going to a club and dirty dancing all over him briefly crossed my mind instead, but that would have been a terrible idea.

I can’t dance, and I hate going out. The stares, the pressure to drink and be sexy. I’m more of a homebody. A few drinks and a game night with my friends is my idea of heaven—except when all of their boyfriends stop by and I’m the pitiful extra.

I wish Derek could be that for me, and I understand why it’s not possible, but I also think it’s really, really stupid. In our case, anyway. He hasn’t taken advantage, there haven’t beenlines crossed, all Derek ever does is make me feel good, and I don’t understand how someone else gets to have an opinion on what could be an amazing relationship.

Does it kill me that he’s not around during the moments when I can’t get my brain to brain right? More than I’ll ever tell him. But if the trade-off is a shot with him, it’ll be worth all the pain.

Hopefully.

To tip the odds in my favor, I’ve dressed super fucking slutty tonight.

I don’t want to leave anything to the imagination. I don’t want Derek to be able to keep his hands off me.

I’m so fucking sick of being a virgin.

It’s not even the label. If it was only about getting it over with, I would have done it already. Probably. If I’d found someone who wasn’t a complete turnoff.

It’s about the fact that I want to feel hands on me. I want to know what another naked body is like against mine. I want real fucking intimacy. And I want to experience that with Derek.

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