Page 37 of Not Dating Material

I shoulder my way into the bathroom, immediately surrounded by a cloud of steam and then—

“Oh, shit,” Molly gasps, foot on the side of the bath and razor poised over his smooth-as-glass balls.

Heat sweeps over me at the sight of his soft cock, his lean muscle, and small frame. Xander’s right. Molly is exactly my type.

I tear my gaze from his light abs to focus on the way he’s staring at me like Bambi.

“Ah, hey …” He very slowly lowers his foot and then clasps his hands in front of his junk.

“Watch that razor.”

“Eeep.” He tosses it in the sink, and I hand him a towel.

“Fun fact. That little knob on the back of the door handle? It’s a lock. I tend to use it when I’m showering, jerking off, manscaping …”

“You’re funny. I thought it was locked.” But even when he wraps the towel around his narrow hips, it doesn’t help. A trickle of water drips from his wet hair and slides over his left pec. I imagine following it with my tongue.

When I drag my gaze away, I find Molly’s cheeks flushed and his teeth buried in his bottom lip.

“You didn’t look at me like that on our date.”

I stifle a groan. “You weren’t standing in front of me naked, were you?”

“I didn’t think nudity would bother you with Madden around.”

“Yeah …” I can’t stop myself from going back for another look. “Madden’s not my type.”

“But I am.”

I groan, and not trusting myself to touch him, I grab the razor from the sink and poke him with the handle, nudging him toward the door. “Get out. I need to jerk off.”

“But I didn’t finish shaving my balls!”

“Don’t need any more material, thank you.”

He’s laughing as I shove him into the hall and slam the door behind him. Then I turn the lock all the way like a normal human being.

Now I have to pray Xander never finds out about this.

Chapter 10

MOLLY

The house gets quiet during the day. Seven, Rush, and Madden are all at work, and Xander’s either in his studio or sleeping or … I don’t know. There are times when the house feels so alive and others when it’s like this. Sleepy. Almost eerie.

I wonder what it was like when Christian and Gabe were here.

Footsteps come barreling down the stairs at the front of the house, and a moment later, Rush appears in the kitchen. He’s a tall guy with a permanent five-o’clock shadow and the aura of someone completely fucking lost.

“Ah, hi,” he says, blinking me into focus. Then he starts forward with his hand outstretched. “I’m Rush. Nice to meet you.”

I shake his hand, trying not to laugh. “Molly. Nice to meet you. Again.”

“Again, right … right … yes …” He looks around, knot between his eyebrows.

“Lost something?”

“Yeah, my phone. I slept through the alarm, and now I’m late for work.”

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