Page 38 of Not Dating Material

“Your phone? Like … the one in your hand?”

Rush lifts the hand holding his phone and blinks at it. “Was I holding this the whole time I got dressed …” he mutters to himself.

“Want a coffee to go?” I offer.

“Please.”

He sits down at the counter while I grab a to-go cup out of the cupboard and pour him a cup from the pot. “Sugar? Cream?”

“Just one sugar and some cold water. Thanks.”

I follow his instructions, then give it a stir, pop on the lid, and hand it over.

Rush takes a long sip and lets his eyes fall closed. “Thanks, Molly, this is great.”

“You’re welcome.”

He smiles at me, and I smile at him, and things get really awkward really quickly.

“Ah … you gonna go?” I ask.

“Oh. Did you need the kitchen?”

I swallow my laugh again. “I thought you were late for work?”

“Holy shit, I am. Thanks, Molly. I’ll see you at Monopoly Monday later.”

Rush runs from the room, and I don’t have the heart to remind him it’s Thursday.

I got most of my big jobs completed yesterday, and so I only have a couple of smaller ones going into the weekend. I’m just debating whether to put those off until Monday and to work on my graphic novel today when a voice comes from down the hall.

“Help … Help!”

I almost drop my coffee, setting it on the counter before I head toward Xander’s voice.

“Molly!”

“Hey, hey, hey …” I call, pushing open the door. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”

He blinks back tears. “Seven’s not answering, and I’ve been bitten by something, and it hurts. My throat’s closing up, Molly, I think I’m allergic.”

When I first moved in, Madden warned me that Xander’s delicate—his words—and that now and then, he’ll have a medical anxiety attack where he thinks he’s dying.

I’m ashamed to say that I blew the warning off, but as I watch, slack-jawed, as Xander gasps loudly, something deep in my gut twists.

Is this what he was talking about?

Did something actually bite Xander?

Fuck, is his throat swelling?

“It’s okay, I’m here.” I grab his shaking hand, scrambling to check him over with no clue what the hell I’m supposed to be looking for. He doesn’t look like he’s swelling or whatever, but what the hell would I know?

“Should I call an ambulance?” Holy hell, my voice is shrill.

Xander shakes his head, tears finally spilling over. “S-seven.”

I scramble for Xander’s phone and try Seven again.

---