Exactly Like You: A Cupid Cafe Story Read online

  They made their way to the canned food aisle and Kurt perused the selection. “So can I have her number?”

  “Hell, no. Did you not hear what I said?”

  “Oh, I heard you. Broken chicks are my specialty.” He offered a wolfish grin as he grabbed can after can of mixed vegetables.

  “That’s a really asshole thing to say, man. I told you how hurt she seemed, what an amazing person she is, and all you heard was, ‘This could be my next booty call?’”

  “Look, you should really rethink it, too. I’m more than happy to step aside so you can have a chance.”

  “You’re broken. There’s something wrong with you and I don’t think anything can fix it.” Aidan shook his head as they took their place in the checkout line. “And there’s no ‘stepping aside.’ You don’t get a shot at her. Got it?”

  “Oh, I think I’m starting to. So, let me explain why you should totally try to tap that.”

  “Please don’t.” Aidan grabbed the sacks of potatoes and hauled them up, both at once, onto the conveyor belt. The worst part of it was, if he hadn’t known her before, if he didn’t know without a doubt that something was wrong in her life, he would’ve tried to make a move. Just thinking of her made his dick twitch, which he was doing his best to ignore, and Kurt wasn’t making it any easier.

  Kurt didn’t help put the groceries on the checkout, just stood there, looking up into space with a gleam in his eyes. “First of all, you listen to their troubles. That’s easy, right? Chicks always talk and at least the ones with problems have interesting stories.”

  “You’re so fucked up.”

  “You comfort them. Build them up, make them feel better about themselves, or their life, or their choices—whatever. You tailor it to the issues.”

  Aidan rolled his eyes. “I’m not—”

  “Then you give them a hug, a hug turns into a kiss. And they trust you now, so they’ve completely let their guards down.”

  “Ass.” Aidan turned to smile at the man behind the checkout counter, checked the total on the monitor, then pulled the money out of his wallet to pay. As they walked out, Aidan couldn’t help himself. He had to ask. “So, what do you do when you’ve gotten sex from this poor hypothetical girl and she wonders why you don’t want to be her boyfriend?”

  “You tell her how broken you are, how you can’t commit because of some bullshit in your past. You’ve got that one covered.”

  Aidan glared at Kurt. Miley’s death was not fodder for getting out of random hookups. He helped haul the groceries into the bed of the truck. Aidan was so pissed, he kind of wanted to punch Kurt. He’d avoid him for the rest of the shift.

  A couple of hours later, the fire bell dinged and they both hustled into their heavy gear and raced for the truck.

  They spent the next several hours fighting a house fire. Luckily, no one was home. A bright spot, even if the house was a total loss. He loved his job, but he couldn’t focus on the people they lost. But, he did focus on the ones who lived—the ones who missed a date with death because they weren’t there or the ones they rescued before the fire got too out of control.

  All in all, it had become a good day. And he could look forward to calling Roxie the following day. One of the guys was having a party, and he could take her there. Best part was, Kurt wouldn’t be present. Aidan could be a good friend to her.

  Kurt came strolling up to him, a grin on his face. “I pissed you off earlier, huh?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Let me ask you this, was it because I said you had an excuse for being heartbroken or because I talked about how to get into your new girlfriend’s pants?”

  “Both. Now, shut up.”

  Kurt turned to face the burnt house they’d spend another hour wetting and checking over. “Yeah,” he said so low Aidan could barely hear him. “I got carried away.”

  “You did.” Aidan stalked back toward the house, determined to put Kurt’s little pep talk out of his mind.

  After coming back from the café, Roxie had managed to avoid her mom the night before by going into her room and locking the door. More and more, she felt like a moody teenager and wondered how her parents handled her.

  Today, she’d spent the entire day at the cat rescue. She helped feed and water the cats, cleaned out their small living quarters, and then worked to socialize one of the more feral ones. This was usually done with food, because all animals could be motivated by food.

  But today she’d been working with a new cat, so all she had to do was go into the room with it and sit, drink some coffee, and talk. She was acclimating the cat to her presence and her voice without being scary or engaging it. That had been nice. She’d talked about meeting Aidan and the incredible motorcycle ride home.

  So, why was she now driving home and dreading having the same conversation with her mom?

  She whipped into the driveway and turned off the engine. She could do this. She used to talk to people for a living, this should be no problem.

  In the kitchen, her mom puttered, making some sandwiches for her dad. “Hi, Mom.” She called out, “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Hello,” he said, in response. This was about as much as she was going to get from him.

  “Ooh, good. You’re here. I’ll put on some coffee and we can talk.” Meredith dumped the grounds in the trashcan and began measuring out spoons of fresh coffee into the filter.

  “Yep.” Roxie so didn’t want to have this conversation. Despite Roxie’s best efforts to teach her mom to have low expectations—especially when it came to her—her mother was a born optimist. She pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down.

  Her mom returned to building Dad’s sandwiches, placing a couple of slices of ham on both. “So… tell me about yesterday! Who brought you home on the loud motorcycle?”

  “An old friend.”

  “Motorcycles are sexy, aren’t they?” She sliced a tomato and plopped it onto the ham.

  “Mom! Really, let’s not go into what you find sexy.” That motorcycle had been seriously sexy. The look of it, the air whooshing all over her, and the hum of it between her legs. But she wasn’t having a conversation about that with her mother.

  Meredith sliced another tomato, throwing a saucy grin over her shoulder. “Fine. So, what was the opportunity for opening your heart?”

  “That’s not what it said. It said ‘open your heart to opportunity.’ There’s a difference. I don’t think I was supposed to meet the love of my life there or anything.”

  Rolling her eyes, Mom slapped some mayo on the sandwiches. She carried them and a cup of coffee to Dad, then came back and filled up steaming mugs for the two of them. “Okay, so… what was the opportunity? Did anyone tell you why you were there?”

  “This… interesting man met me at the door. He was the manager, his name was Angel, and he knew me by name. He got me coffee, led me to a booth, but he never specified why I was there.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing, Mom. I don’t know what the opportunity was supposed to be, but it never showed up.”

  “Maybe…” Meredith took a sip of her coffee. “Maybe this friend is your opportunity.”

  “I don’t see how that’s possible. I’m sorry.” And she really was. Which was strange. Anything beyond the usual malaise blanketing her was something different.

  Her depression was taking a terrible toll on her parents. If she could’ve gone there and found a cure, some sort of bandage that would make her all better, no one would be happier about it than Roxie herself. Well, no one except her mom.

  Meredith reached across the table to pat her cheek. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. It got you out of the house and you actually socialized. I’m satisfied. Maybe you should go back.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She didn’t know why she felt that way. The environment had been quite soothing, like balm on her troubled soul, but… something was off about the whole thing.

  “Y
ou mean you don’t want to leave the house, other than to visit the rescue.”

  “Well, yeah.” If her mom was going to make her say it, Roxie would be honest. “Pretty much.”

  A few hours later, Roxie was washing up the dinner dishes when her pants started buzzing. She grabbed a dishtowel and started patting her pocket. What the hell was that?

  Her phone! It had been so long since she got a call, she didn’t recognize it, at first. She jerked it out of her pocket and touched the accept button. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Roxie. It’s Aidan.”

  “I didn’t expect you to call so soon. I thought you had work.” She scraped a chair out from the table with a wince and sat down, tossing the dishtowel on her shoulder.

  “I am at work. Just got back from a fire, actually.”

  Roxie chewed on her lip. It was like being a teenager once again, on the phone with a boy and unsure of what to say. “I hope everyone is okay.”

  “Yeah, no one was home. Anyway, a friend of mine is having a party, and I thought you might want to go.” In the background, she could hear other men’s voices shouting out to one another playfully.

  “Like the kind with people?” She sounded like an idiot.

  “You going to a lot of parties without people?”

  “No, no parties.” Shaking her head, Roxie rolled her eyes at herself. She used to be so good with conversations.

  “No, you don’t want to go or no, you haven’t been to any parties without people?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Just then, Meredith came into the kitchen. “Who’s on the phone?” she asked.

  “A friend, Mom.”

  “What friend?”

  Roxie shushed her mother, waving her away.

  Aidan chuckled into the receiver. “So, about the party? You feel like getting out of the house?”

  Roxie sighed softly. She didn’t particularly want to go to a party, even if it was with Aidan, but her mom watched her closely and openly listened in on the conversation.

  She bit her bottom lip then made a snap decision. “Sure. Let’s party it up.”

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight. Wear jeans and bring a light jacket, because we’ll be on the bike.”

  “Okay, bye.” With a touch, she ended the call. Excitement surged through her at the thought of riding on the bike with Aidan, but then anxiety crashed into the pit of her stomach. She’d said yes to a party. The kind with people.

  Playing with her lips in an absent way, she fought the urge to go throw up.

  Chapter Three

  Aidan stood in the middle of the party, loud music reverberating through his bones, people calling out to one another from all directions. He’d picked Roxie up, and she looked beautiful in jeans and a purple tank top. Her full lips were puckered, eyebrows down. She had been clearly worried about going to the party.

  And he’d lost track of her. He’d gotten her a beer, and they’d been standing together, when one of his friends came in. “I’ll be right back,” he told her.

  Now, he’d said hello to his buddy and he couldn’t find her. Finally, a flash of purple caught his attention and, on some animal level, the way it hugged her breasts told him it was Roxie. Then, he noticed the guy bugging her.

  Aidan headed that way, making his way past throngs of people here and there. When he got there and came up on the side, Roxie was giving the guy a withering stare. “I don’t need a boyfriend.”

  “You don’t have to be a bitch,” the guy said and something fiery kicked up in Aidan.

  “Is this guy bothering you?” His voice came out thunderous, even over the pulsating music.

  Whoever he was, he scurried away when Aidan showed up. Aidan watched his progress, shuffling away from them. Something on his own face made it clear a fight was brewing, if he had to guess. He took a step toward the guy and Roxie put a hand on his chest.

  Electricity shot through him, and he leveled his gaze on her.

  “It’s fine now.” She looked up at him with those big green eyes. “Really, Aidan.”

  Damn him if he didn’t want to kiss that mouth, claim it as his own. He shook his head, trying to clear it. No, that wasn’t right. She wasn’t his, never would be.

  Roxie turned back to the party from her place on the edge of it. Her throat worked, eyes wide. She looked like she was in full-on panic mode. He’d seen people pulled out of burning buildings look less scared.

  “Let’s dance.” He took her hand and tugged her to the middle of the room.

  She went, but her face said she’d rather be anywhere else. “I can’t dance.” She shook her head, vehement.

  A slow song started to pound through the speakers. “Everybody can slow dance. Come here.”

  He pulled her into his arms and she relaxed against him. Good, that was better. His hands hooked around her waist, coming to rest above her ass.

  Gradually, they began to move in time to the music. She had a small frame and the top of her head came up to his nose. She smelled of sugar cookies, vanilla, something sweet and irresistible.

  She took a ragged breath, then took a step closer and tucked her head under his chin. Her arms snaked around his neck, curves pressing into the length of his body.

  His eyes drifted closed, and she was everywhere. Her scent, her body; the world tightened down to one pinpoint of sensory overload and he started to get hard.

  She was close enough, she’d feel it if his dick continued on its present course. His cheeks burned at the thought, but he couldn’t let her go, at least not until the song ended.

  It was slow torture, her hips brushing against his in rhythm to the music. Heat from her body branded him. He slowed down, barely moving now, because he couldn’t take much more.

  After a moment, she lifted her head, brows puckered in a question. He pulled her closer, so she couldn’t see his face. God forbid something there betray his current level of want. But that came with another problem, as he was engorged, full and painfully hard against his jeans now.

  The music stopped, and a fast beat raged around them. They broke apart. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Making an abrupt turn, he left her in the middle of the floor and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he locked the door behind him, readjusted his hard-on, and looked in the mirror. He was trying to be her friend because she was too fragile for a one-night stand. His libido needed to calm the fuck down.

  The problem was, she’d clung to him, probably out of nervousness, but remembering how she felt brought all these ideas of what it would feel like to touch her, make her writhe and moan, then sink into her. She’d hold on to him, her arms around his neck, and they’d move together.

  What would it be like to kiss those full, luscious lips? How would it feel for that mouth to roam his own body? A small groan escaped him. “No. Not going to happen.”

  He swiped a hand across his mouth, trying to think of thick smoke and soggy building remnants. Anything he could bring up that wasn’t sexy so he didn’t have to go face her with his dick hard as a steel beam.

  What he wanted was a no-go, but he could take her for a ride. Get out of this stuffy house and show her a sight. Nothing wrong with that.

  He recognized the lie, that he was tempting fate. He didn’t care right this minute. He wanted the thrill of the ride, of her arms wrapped around him. Riding with her was as close as he was going to get to that sweet body of hers. He’d take what he could get, then take her home, and figure out what to do with himself after.

  If he hadn’t brought her, Aidan would go find some willing girl out in the party, because obviously, it had been far too long since his last fuck. But, damn it, he’d do the right thing. And torture himself in the process.

  Aidan opened the door and looked around. At first he didn’t see her but then he spotted her by the door, next to a plant. She had her hands clutched together in front of her. He could do this. He made his way toward her.

  *

  As soon as Aidan ca
me out of the bathroom, Roxie’s gaze flew to him. Her eyes seemed to be drawn to him, no matter where he’d gone throughout the night. Right now, he was pale, and he looked like he might feel sick.

  He stalked through the crowd to stand before her. “We’re leaving.”

  “Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

  “Not at all. It’s too damn hot and stuffy in here. You ready?”

  Was she ready? She’d been ready to leave since they’d arrived. “Sure.”

  When they got to the bike, she huffed out a breath. That dance had just about made her crazy. Crazier—whatever. He’d been touching her, moving against her, and she thought she’d felt him harden against her stomach. She was pretty sure, to be honest, but that didn’t make any sense. Hot firefighter and her? She didn’t think so.

  Now, she’d have to climb up behind him, clutch him tight, and ride with the big machine between her legs, when she was already wet and achy with want.

  “Everything cool?”

  “Yeah, it’s all good.” She grabbed the helmet and pulled it on before he could see her face. She’d never been a good liar.

  He got on the bike and she slung her leg over to clamor up behind him. Once there, she put her hands out in front of her, slowly pressing them into his back. It was that or wrap herself around him, and she didn’t need any more encouragement.

  When she touched him, he took off like a shot, speeding onto the road. Why was he in such a hurry?

  They moved through the streets quickly and out of town, then began to climb a steep incline. At the top, he pulled the bike to the shoulder and turned it off.

  “Where are we?”

  “I want to show you something. Hop off.” His speech was clipped. Was he mad at her?

  When she got off, she slid the helmet over her head, curls going everywhere. She tried her best to smooth them back down. That’s all she needed, to look like a wild woman.

  Aidan took off and Roxie stood there for a second. Was she supposed to follow him? Was he going to take a leak? But, no. He’d gone to the bathroom before they left and he told her he wanted to show her something.

  She rushed to catch up with him. When he stopped short, she ran into his back. “Oh, I’m sorry.”