Page 14 of Not Dating Material

“Nothing.”

A chuckle comes from behind Madden, drawing my attention to Seven and Xander.

“You definitely said something,” Seven says.

I look from him to Xander to Madden.

“I maybe said he could do me in the bathrooms,” I rush out. “And everyone heard me.”

Madden’s booming laugh starts first, followed by Seven’s, and then … I let out a huge breath of anxiety and join them.

“What is wrong with me?” I groan. “Why can’t I be normal?”

“Normal’s overrated,” Xander says. “You’re normal for you. If it helps, I would have accepted your offer.”

Seven slaps his thigh. “Down, boy.”

“What?” Xander’s aqua eyes widen. “Molly’s cute as hell. I would have.”

“Thanks,” I say around a grin, then flop onto the couch across from them. As much as laughing has helped, I’m … tired. Ever since my college boyfriend cheated on me, I’ve been more than unlucky in love. It feels like I’m cursed some days. Guys my own age are always too much of a mess in themselves for a relationship, so I made the decision to date older guys and keep striking out there as well. I don’t know if I just keep picking the wrong men or the right ones aren’t interested in someone like me—unless it’s to spread my legs.

I thought I’d found someone back in Kilborough. Ford is one of my dad’s friends. He’s flirty and handsome and seemed like a no-nonsense type of guy. The kind of guy who’d treat me right. But then he went and found himself a boyfriend, and I was so bitter and petty and over never being enough that I’d kissed him.

Safe to say that hadn’t gone well. His boyfriend had been ridiculously kind about it, and then I spent the next few months hiding from both of them until I could move here.

Where Seattle men aren’t much different.

“Why am I so bad at this?” I ask no one in particular.

“You’re not bad at it, Mols,” Madden says, sitting down next to me. “You just haven’t found your man. It’ll happen.”

“Not soon enough.”

“How do we know he’s not bad at it though?” Seven asks.

Xander’s mouth drops. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not. It’s a question.” Everything about Seven is rough. From his dark red hair to his large frame to his tattoos and piercings, and then he looks at me with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. “You said a lot the other day about lunch dates and calling and messaging … In the nicest way possible, it sounded a little stalkerish, man.”

“Stalkerish?”

“Don’t freak out, I could be wrong. I obviously don’t know you well, but if things are as sucky as you say … maybe it is you.”

No one, and I mean literally no one, has ever even suggested that. My best friend Will is always on my side over how jerkishly I’m treated, Dad always tells me that if they’re not interested, they don’t deserve me, and even Madden, right now, is giving me empty platitudes.

I blink at Seven, my mouth hanging roughly around my ankles. “Me?”

“Whoa, don’t look at me like that.”

“Maybe you need to stop talking,” Xander hisses, then turns to me. “Seven doesn’t always watch his words.”

He huffs. “I watch them, wiener brain. I just don’t sugarcoat things like the rest of you.”

“Some people like sugar.”

“Then I’m not for them.” Seven shrugs, and being so blatantly okay with not being everyone’s cup of tea is something I wish I could learn.

“Maybe it’s me …” I mutter, turning it over in my head. “But how do I know?”

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