The Matchmaker's Replacement by Rachel Van Dyken


  I’d even gone so far as to do a background check on the guy, and not the legal kind either.

  He was fine. She was safe with him, but the bastard did have some weird fetishes.

  And in my book a weird fetish for old libraries basically meant he was one bad choice away from snapping and needing to be institutionalized.

  I really hoped Gabi did a good job so she could be done with him and move the hell on.

  Was this how every client was going to be?

  My fingers itched to do damage to the prick’s credit score, just like they itched to check Gabi’s bank accounts and discover where all her money was going.

  And food.

  She’d eaten her pizza like a ravenous cougar, devouring three pieces before coming up for air and locking eyes with me.

  When I asked her when she last ate, she shrugged me off and started asking Ian about Blake’s next game.

  A light tapping at my door startled me, before it opened. Gabi shut it quietly, locked it, then tiptoed over to my bed. “Room for one more?”

  I pulled back the duvet. “Thank God you can read minds.”

  “You’re not the only superhero in this house.”

  “Super villain,” I corrected.

  “Nah.” Gabs sighed against my chest, her soft breath warming my skin. “This afternoon . . . when you said I was a twelve . . .” She yawned. “And told me why you called me Sunshine . . .” Her nails danced along my chest. “Hero.”

  “I did save a frog once.”

  “We should probably notify the chamber of commerce, just in case they want to throw a parade or something.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Heroes never die.”

  “Truth or Dare?”

  “Games in bed? And no rope? Losing your touch, Mr. Luthor . . . and I choose truth.”

  “How many times have you thought about me in the shower?”

  She pinched my nipple. I let out a little yelp. “Twice today while rubbing myself down with my loofah.”

  “Say rubbing yourself down, again.”

  “Nope.”

  “Damn it! Another opportunity lost!”

  “Truth or Dare?”

  “Dare.”

  “He wants a dare, hmm?” Gabi leaned up on her elbows. “I dare you to . . . knock on Ian’s door naked and ask him if he has towels.”

  “That’s a daily occurrence. I’m always out of towels, always naked. Next?”

  Gabi’s eyes narrowed. “Let me wrap you in a blanket for five minutes, arms pinned.”

  I shivered. “Hell no.”

  “Aw, you said dare. This is it, no take backs!”

  “Oh look, you won the game, we should probably sleep or have sex. I’m down for either.”

  “Loser.”

  “The last person who called me a loser was Ian. We were in fifth grade. I rest my case.”

  Gabi made the L sign with her fingers against her forehead and burst out laughing.

  “Are you serious right now?”

  “Lex . . .” She moved to straddle me, and my entire body jumped to attention. “Please?”

  “Stop that,” I hissed as she rocked against me. “Play fair!”

  Gabi leaned over, her hair kissing my chest as her hips ground into me. “Is it still no?”

  “Hmm . . .” I laced my fingers behind my head. “Take off your shorts and move a little to the left, then the right, up and down a bit, and we’ll see.”

  “You really need to burn all those manuals.”

  “Hey! Some people need direction!”

  “Do I?”

  “Hell no!” I gripped her ass with my hands. “Honestly, even if you accidently fell onto my dick, it would still be the best sex of my life.”

  “I’m trying to find romance in that.”

  “You won’t.” I nodded. “So I’d stop trying.”

  She moved her hips again while I hissed out a curse.

  “Still no?”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll let you pin me underneath the blanket for three minutes, and then my dare is over, deal?”

  She nodded.

  “And then I get sex as a reward, lots of sex, and you can’t complain when I ask you to channel your inner gymnast.”

  “Seriously, you’re so romantic I can hardly keep my clothes on,” she said in a dry voice.

  I slapped her on the ass and closed my eyes. “Okay, I’m ready, but for the record you’re doing this against my will. I have a totally legitimate fear of being trapped beneath things. It’s called claustrophobia, not to be confused with medorthophobia, which I clearly don’t have.” I wouldn’t have had claustrophobia either, except that Ian had contributed to my irrational fear by trapping me in sleeping bags during our childhood camping trips.

  “The fear of erect penises?” She wrapped the blanket around the front of my body, then sat on me while my arms stayed pinned to my sides. “How would I confuse the two?”

  I squinted at her face. “How do you even know that?”

  Gabi squirmed, and then her cheeks stained red. “We were talking about phobias in my psych class, and well, let’s just say that a certain ex-boyfriend said he had a friend who suffered from it.”

  “Bullshit!” I burst out laughing. “Please tell me Mark’s afraid of his own junk. It would make my life.”

  “We never had sex, so I wouldn’t know.” Gabi leaned across me, using her body weight to pin me down. “Maybe he’s just afraid of the sudden . . .” Her cheeks reddened more.

  “Oh no you don’t.” I squirmed beneath her. “The sudden what?”

  “Er, the sudden . . . ness.” She nodded. “You know, like, oh look, everything’s totally fine in the world, and then boom. Erection.”

  I fought like hell to keep my laugh in. “Yeah, that’s not how that works.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “Maybe if you’re on a shitload of Viagra. It’s more of a slow . . . rise, you know, like when you do the Pledge of Allegiance and the flag—”

  Gabi covered my mouth with her hand. “If you keep talking, I’m never going to be able to say the Pledge of Allegiance without thinking about man parts.” She pulled her hand away.

  “My theory is this.” I tried to focus on her instead of the terror of being trapped. “Good ol’ Mark was giving a presentation in front of the class when his very hot, very single teacher looked at him . . . and that’s all it took—or to put it in your words, boom, erection. Traumatized for life as kids pointed and laughed.”

  “Huh.” Gabi nodded. “Good theory.”

  “I am a genius, so . . .”

  “A genius who used to cry when Ian trapped you in sleeping bags.”

  “Bastard used to zip them all the way up, Gabs!”

  “Okay.” She pulled away from me. “All done, see? Aren’t you glad you didn’t punk out?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” I rolled my eyes as my hands were freed. “Pay up, woman.”

  She scurried off the bed, laughing. I chased after her and pulled her against my body. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  “I like hard.”

  “Well, lucky for you”—I kissed the side of her neck—“I’m already there.”

  She turned in my arms and whispered, “Truth.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her about the food, the money, everything, but . . . Part of me felt guilty, and I didn’t want to kill the moment, so I gripped her by the ass and lifted her in the air. “How good does it feel when I do this?”

  I jerked her shorts off of her body and kissed her.

  “So”—she sl
ammed her mouth against mine for a brief kiss—“good.”

  “Truth or Dare?” She pulled back, a coy smile on her lips.

  “Truth.”

  “How many girls have been in your bedroom?”

  “One,” I whispered. “The only one.”

  “Good answer.”

  “Heroic?”

  “Don’t push it.” She giggled as we fell against the bed, tangled in one another.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Seven

  Gabi

  Asshole Lex: Truth or Dare?

  Gabi: Truth.

  Asshole Lex: Are you wearing any underwear?

  Gabi: Aw, are these your “ass” office hours? I’ll be sure to text you once they’re over.

  Asshole Lex: Seven to ten every night, expect no gentleman . . . only full asshole man, hell bent on offending your delicate feminine sensibilities as much as he can.

  Gabi: Noted. Now stop texting me during my date.

  Asshole Lex: Truth or Dare.

  Gabi: Seriously?

  Asshole Lex: Just one more . . .

  Gabi: Dare.

  Asshole Lex: Good to know we communicate telepathically now. I was chanting dare in my head . . . Slip the word erection into your dinner talk and see what Mark does. Also, record it. Give the audience what it wants, that’s what I always say.

  Gabi: No!

  Asshole Lex: I trapped myself in a blanket for you last night. Say erection and you’ll be the hero.

  Gabi: I hate you.

  Asshole Lex: I await the video. Don’t let the good people of earth down, Gabi. Think of the children.

  Gabi: Too far.

  Asshole Lex: Sorry, I was on a roll and just went with it.

  I burst out laughing.

  Mark frowned. “Everything okay with your mom?” I may have lied and told him my mom was sick and texting me.

  I cleared my throat and shoved my phone back into my purse. “Just great. How’s the sushi?”

  He stared down at his plate, where the salmon rolls festered. “It’s . . . cold.”

  “Sushi is cold,” I pointed out as I stabbed a tuna roll and watched Mark’s nose scrunch up. “So, I’m assuming Charlie didn’t want you going out with me tonight?”

  He put down his fork and leaned back in his chair, and his black T-shirt hung on his toned body. I could appreciate that he had an okay form, but he was nothing compared to Lex, not even close.

  “She was pissed.”

  “Good.” I nodded. “So, now that you’re an official client, let’s just go over the next few days. I’ll make sure she sees us together a few strategic times, and she’s most likely going to start texting you more, showing up randomly, calling. Be busy during those times. Don’t necessarily brush her off, just say you have a lot going on, alright? When she pressures you to hang out, tell her you can do it next week, you’re busy now, but next week you’re free. You have no social life this week, got it?”

  Mark sighed. “Look, I know you guys have a crazy success rate, it’s just . . . I don’t see how this is going to work. She has to be legitimately jealous of you.”

  My stomach clenched as I tried to keep my face a mask of professionalism. “It worked the other day.”

  “True,” he finally admitted.

  “I’m the best.” Okay so that was a lie, but still, I needed him to trust me. “You have nothing to lose. I promise that by the end of the week you’ll have her ready to lose her mind over you.”

  His posture stiffened, and as he glanced up a small smile teased his lips. “You think so?”

  “I know so,” I said confidently. “Now, as for the um . . . physical part of Wingmen Inc., a situation may pop up.” I was going to kill Lex, because that entire sentence just reminded me of our conversation: erection, boom! Noooo! I coughed into my hand. “A situation may arise.” Nope, that made it worse. “A situation may magically appear.” There, better. “Where I need to touch you.” And back to bad. “Or kiss you.” The thought made me want to puke. “You can’t shy away if that happens, alright?”

  He shrugged.

  “Mark?”

  “Fine.”

  “Great.” I exhaled a sigh of relief. He really was an ass. Worse than Lex had ever been. You couldn’t even compare the two! “So, any weird . . . issues I need to know about? In reference to a sexual relationship?”

  He froze in his seat.

  And then Mark started shaking as he grabbed his fork and attacked his sushi like he hadn’t eaten in months.

  “Anything at all?” I prodded.

  “Nope,” he said, mouth full of fish.

  “Oh good! You have no idea how many weird things we come across. You know, people who don’t know how to kiss, aversions to feet . . .” I cleared my throat. “The fear of arousal or . . . erections.”

  Mark choked on a piece of fish and reached for his water as soy sauce exploded all over his plate.

  “But good to know that you don’t deal with any of those things, hmm, Mark?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t write anything on my sheet.”

  “Wingmen Inc. . . .” I offered a fake smile. “Even if you don’t write it down, our job is to know.”

  He looked away.

  “Is your little”—my lip twitched as I emphasized ‘little’—“problem going to be a . . . problem?”

  “No,” he said a little too quickly. “It’s not. I swear it’s not even what you think.”

  “I don’t think about your penis, so you’re right, it’s not.”

  “Can we just drop it?” he pleaded, a desperate edge in his voice that I’d never heard before. Then again, I’d never known the word “erection” to be a buzzword, but you learn something new every day!

  “Fine.” I wiped my hands on my napkin. “So, tomorrow I’ll stop by your first class so she sees us, and we’ll go from there depending on her reaction, okay?”

  He hesitated, cheeks full of sushi. “Fine.” His mouth was full, and I had a sudden vision of him kissing Charlie and nearly puked. Revulsion crept over his face as he fought back a gag, then swallowed. “But if this doesn’t work, I get my money back, right? That’s how it works?”

  I sighed loudly and stood. “Look, Mark, you either need our help or you don’t. You signed a contract that locks you in for at least seven days. At the end of the seven days, if you aren’t happy, you’ll get your deposit back, but that’s it.”

  He snorted.

  What did I ever see in him?

  “So?” I crossed my arms.

  “Fine.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood. “I’ll meet you tomorrow morning.”

  The minute he stood, my eyes widened, unable to look away from the front of his pants.

  “Er, you have a”—I gulped—“situation.”

  “It’s called priapism,” he grumbled, slinking back down into his seat. “It’s not you.” His words were like venom.

  “So . . .” I held back my smirk, just barely. “Is this another reason you need our . . . help?” Oh my gosh, it was still there! Lurking! Under the table! I couldn’t look away. Face, he had a face. I jerked my head up so I was making eye contact.

  “It’s a simple blood-flow problem.”

  “I’ll say,” I whispered.

  “Happens when I’m upset or nervous,” he grumbled. “Or turned-on. I just . . . It takes effort to control, alright? Especially around Charlie.”

  “Hey!” I held up my hands. “Maybe she’ll like it? You know, screw the guessing game and all that.”

  Mark gave me a defeated stare.

  “Or,” I said, trying again, “we’ll just make sure that y
our first date together is at a restraint—er, restaurant—with really long tablecloths? Dark setting? I’m thinking no light whatsoever?”

  He exhaled loudly. “Gabi? No offense, but the last thing I want to be talking to you about is my inability to control . . . things.” He cursed. “Especially with someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “Yes.” He gritted his teeth. “Just. Like. You.” A heated look crossed his face. “A cock tease. What is it? Do you only open your legs for athletes? God knows you never did it for me.”

  Without thinking, I grabbed my water glass off the table and threw the contents in his face.

  “What the hell!” he bellowed, jumping to his feet.

  “You know what?” I grabbed his water and repeated the motion. “As of two seconds ago, your contract is officially dissolved. We don’t need you as a client, not now, not ever!”

  “Like hell!” he roared. “I paid good money! I’ll sue!”

  “Just try it!” I yelled right back and stomped out of the restaurant, tears streaming down my face.

  I was too angry.

  Too hurt.

  Too anything to even react beyond the tears.

  It wasn’t that I liked him. It was that his comments had hit home. They were the exact comments I’d gotten all through high school from jealous girls who had always assumed Ian and I were more than just friends. When I wouldn’t sleep with Mark, he pulled away and later cheated on me, then blamed me for the cheating, claiming that I was probably already sleeping with Ian anyway.

  What was even worse: the one weak moment I had, where I just wanted to get sex over with, it was Lex. Lex who’d appeared in my time of need.

  Only to make what had been a surface cut a full-blown wound as he, too, passed me by and found another willing girl.

  Every insecurity I’d had came back to the surface full force as I made my way to my car and turned the key. Logically, I knew I was a different person now. I knew it, but words still had the power to hurt, and his words just reminded me how stupid I’d been and how easily I’d fallen for a guy’s words instead of his actions. Which was crazy, since I’d fallen for Lex’s actions more than his words. His words had always been cruel, but his actions?

 
Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]