Page 75 of Not Dating Material

Chapter 20

MOLLY

I love seeing Seven go such a bright shade of red. Behind all those tattoos, his skin is pale and gives away all of his secrets. I wriggle against him again, loving the way his breathing hitches for a moment, and the bulge in his swim trunks grows again.

While he might not want more with me, he’ll never be able to deny that the attraction is there. And boy, is it there. Sipping this drink, body pressed up against his big one, sneaking glimpses of his tattoos and pierced dick print, and those strong thighs that make my mouth water … whoever invented swimsuits was a goddamn genius, and I want to kiss Elle for renting this house out for the weekend.

I grin and stretch my arm out across his body. “Look at how bare I am compared to you.”

Seven snatches up my wrist and runs his other fingers down the inside of my arm, uncovering goose bumps in his wake. “You have no idea how much I’d love to get my needle into this skin.”

“Things creepy stalkers say for five hundred!”

He chuckles, and I love bringing the rare sound out in him. “For real. Would you ever let me tattoo you?”

The thought of that is nowhere near appealing, even with Seven being the one to ask. “It looks painful.”

“It is.” He releases my wrist, but before I can pull my arm away, he grabs my hand again and rests it between us.

I fucking melt.

“Pain isn’t my friend,” I say breathlessly.

“I’d be gentle.”

“Now why, when you say that, do I picture you meaning it in a very, very different way?”

“Because you have a filthy mind.”

I snap the fingers on my free hand. “That must be it.”

“Seriously though. If it wasn’t for the pain, would you get one?”

“Maybe. I think it’s one of those things where I’m kinda nervous about committing too? Like, it’s permanent. What would I get? What if I don’t like it in ten years?”

“Remove it? Get it tattooed over?”

“Is that what you’re going to do with Sevipus when you eventually get sick of me?”

He squeezes my hand so hard it almost hurts. “Don’t say that bull dirt.”

“There’s more chance of it happening than not.”

Seven bites his thumbnail that’s already been bitten back as far as it can go. All his nails are like that, a raggedy mess, and I can only imagine the anxiety that runs through him for them to end up like that. “You’re really hard on yourself, you know that?” he asks.

“Maybe I’m just honest.”

“Nah. I’m honest. You’re … it’s like … never mind.”

“Never mind? You did not just never mind me. How am I supposed to go about my day when all I’ll be thinking about is what the hell you were going to say?”

“My opinion isn’t all that important.”

“I’d argue it’s very important, given our deal is you literally giving me your opinion on how I’m screwing up on dates.”

“True.”

“So what was the never mind?”

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