Page 17 of Not Dating Material

He pretends to gasp. “If it’s to do with you, it’s always my business.”

I cross the room to grab his arm and haul him out of bed. Then I throw him over my shoulder, carry him into the hall, and set him on his feet again.

Xander glares up at me.

I press a kiss to his forehead and lower my voice. “This isn’t to do with me,” I assure him. “And if Molly’s okay with you knowing, you’ll be the first one I tell.”

“Okay.” He turns to go but stops himself. “Be nice to him. He’s … not like us.”

“Like us?” I hitch up an eyebrow.

Xander twists his hands in front of him. “Damaged.”

“Everyone’s damaged in some way.”

“Maybe, but if he is, his is like a bruise you have to poke at to bring out the pain.”

“Whereas ours is like a gaping flesh wound?”

“You got it.” He slaps my chest. “Be nice. And also, quick. I’ve been relatively healthy the last few days, so I expect I’ll be dying anytime now.”

Even though he’s joking and even though we both laugh, my chest clenches a little as I watch him walk away. Gaping flesh wound, indeed.

Molly is up out of bed, T-shirt on and struggling to flatten his mop of brown hair when I step back into his room.

“You got a minute?”

“Yeah, of course.” He’s like an overeager puppy. All bright eyes and bouncy. I … I don’t know what to do with all that enthusiasm.

“So … about last night …”

“Don’t worry about it. I actually think you were right. Or maybe onto something. It was valid anyway, so don’t apologize for being honest.”

Apologize? Huh. “Ah, I wasn’t going to.”

“Oh.” His cute nose wrinkles with confusion, and he drops to sit on the side of his bed. “It’s just … when you said about last night, and then Xander was telling me not to worry about it like he thought you’d upset me, which you totally didn’t, I guess I—”

“Maybe I should do the talking?”

Molly’s mouth snaps closed against a giggle, and he hurries to nod.

I’m already regretting my idea. “I had a thought that might help you.”

“Really?”

“You said you could be the problem but didn’t know how to figure out if that was the case.”

“Exactly. It’s not like I can call all my failed dates and be like do you have time to complete a short survey and then start asking them questions.”

“Well, no. But you can ask me.”

That nose wrinkle again. “Ah, Seven? I might have seen you naked, but we’ve never actually dated.”

And wonderful, we’re bringing that up. How nice. I’ve already lost patience with this idea, but Molly helped me out, and I don’t like being in his debt.

“The idea was that you use me as a surrogate boyfriend. We’ll go on dates, you’ll do everything you usually do, and I’ll point out where you’re—” Being clingy? Annoying? Stalkerish? “Overenthusiastic.” How’s that for thinking my words through, Z?

“You’d be my fake boyfriend?”

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