Page 80 of Not Dating Material

And I can’t resist teasing him. “Technically, we only had the one date before getting nasty.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t a real date, so it doesn’t count. But I’ve already got plans for our second, so start thinking about the third. I want to power through them and learn everything I can because I was lust-drunk when I agreed not to hook up with anyone while you were training me.” Molly rests his face on my shoulder. “I’m going to be so horny by the end of it.”

My jaw clenches at the idea of him going on his first date, so boned up from all the celibacy, that he jumps straight into bed with the guy. His choice though. Nothing I can do about it. I was an idiot for sleeping with Molly the first time, and it’s not going to happen again.

“And your needs are my main priority,” I say, snappier than I mean to.

“Good. Now, are you sure you don’t want to talk?”

“Positive.” Until he’d come in here, I’d successfully distracted myself. If anything, Molly went and ruined all that progress I’d been making. That said, it’s not like I’m any worse off now. Well, other than the whole picturing him sleeping around thing, but that’s a completely separate issue.

“What are you working on?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Urg … you are so boring. I got up in the middle of the night for you, and you’re all nothing, no, leave me alone.” He picks up the tea and has a sip before setting it down in front of me. “Well, fine. If you won’t let me talk, and you won’t spill your deepest secrets, and you won’t even let me blow you—”

Say what, now?

He stands up and sets his hands on my shoulders. “You asked for this.”

“For what?”

But Molly straddles my lap, slim thighs slotting on either side of my hips, and then … he wraps his arms around me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hugging you. And don’t fight me on it—you need this. I’m not afraid to bite.”

I almost laugh but rein it in. “And what if I don’t like hugs?”

“You do.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I might not know much about you, but I still pay attention. Don’t tell me your secrets. I don’t care. But I’m going to help with whatever had you awake anyway. I’m stubborn like that.”

I sigh as Molly rests his head against my shoulder and makes himself comfortable. He’s right though. I do like hugs. Thanks to Xander.

He was the only person I ever willingly let touch me once I was old and big enough to have control over that, and then when we moved in here, these guys became like my brothers. Madden has no personal-space issues, Christian used to need a literal pile-on to stop his spirals, Gabe was always friendly with a shoulder squeeze or a tap to the head, and Rush will sometimes grab you out of nowhere while he’s trying to manage his thoughts into a coherent stream. Learning the difference between good touch and bad was a real lesson, but everything about Molly’s touch is good.

So good.

And surprisingly, strictly platonic.

I don’t feel taken advantage of or pressured, just … safe. Protected.

When usually that’s all me.

“You can keep working,” comes his muffled voice. “I’m facing the other way. I promise.”

I believe him. But I don’t need to keep working now because Molly’s giving me everything I needed from Xander, but instead of feeling like I’m piling more crap on Xander, who’s already overloaded, it feels like Molly’s taking it from me, offloading it from my shoulders and burning the darkness with his sunshine.

I’m not thinking when I wrap my arms around him. Crush him against my chest. Bury my face in his neck and squeeze my eyes closed against the tears. I refuse to let any of them fall, but it’s a struggle. Made even harder when Molly’s fingers dip into my hair and massage my scalp.

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “You’re always here for me, and now it’s my turn.”

I don’t say anything back, just hold him. Bathed in relief and letting myself be weak, to need him. Because I really, really need this.

---