The Problem With Cupid (Holiday Romance Book 2)

by Robin Daniels

  I shoved my hands in my pockets, wishing I had matching mittens to go with the beanie. “I know about the surface stuff. But I don’t know what you’re thinking or feeling. How are you doing mentally and emotionally? Are you stressed? Are you happy? Are you lonely…?”

  I thought about what I was asking and clamped my mouth shut. What in the heck was I saying? I’m surprised he hadn’t punched me in the face to shut me up yet. Something about being invested in another person’s love life was making me soft and gushy. I sounded like the radio DJ on “Love Line After Dark.”

  Garland stopped walking and faced me. “I wish I was lonely right now. But I can’t be, because you won’t stop bugging me. What’s up with all the touchy-feely psychoanalysis crap? I’m not moving another step until you tell me what’s going on.” He folded his arms defiantly across his chest.

  What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t tell him the truth. I knew without a doubt that he had to think dating Abby was his own idea or it would never happen. Playing games wasn’t normally my style, and I was quickly discovering that I sucked at it.

  Thankfully, I spotted Abby and Sam up the sidewalk. “Hello, girls,” I called, putting a stop to my conversation with Garland.

  He glared at me, then spun around and smiled at them. Under his breath, he whispered, “This isn’t over.”

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Sam said.

  “What are you guys up to?” Abby asked.

  “Taking a study break,” I replied, rocking back on my heels. “Our room was stuffy, and it was hard to concentrate. We decided to stretch our legs.”

  Abby cocked her head to the side. “The dorms are awful, aren’t they? Those windows don’t open nearly wide enough. What happens if there’s a fire? Everyone would be trapped.”

  One of the great things about Garland was his adaptability. He could change his demeanor with the flip of a switch. Watching him smile at Abby, you’d have no clue he was currently mad at me. “I bet you could shimmy out. They open far enough for a tiny person to get through.”

  “I don’t know.” She hummed thoughtfully.

  “We could test it.” Garland threw his arm over my shoulder. “I’m sure Evan’s willing to risk getting stuck, if it brings you peace of mind.”

  “Yeah, I could—” My brow furrowed, and my head snapped to the side. “Wait a second, are you calling me tiny?”

  Garland smirked. “Don’t get all butt-hurt. There’s nothing wrong with being petite.”

  “Petite?” I screeched. Abby started giggling, and Sam full-on laughed at me. “I’m not petite. Feel this.” I flexed my bicep and held my arm out to Abby. Garland might be taller and broader than I was, but I had bigger muscles. “Go on, give it a squeeze.” Abby reached up and wrapped her hand around my arm. “See? Hard as a rock.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. All I can feel is the puffiness of your coat.”

  “Hmpfh.” I grunted. I started to argue, but I saw a conspiratorial look pass between Garland and Abby, so I held my tongue. If they connected through ganging up on me, I’d put up with it. I thrust my arm at Sam. “Abby’s been unduly influenced. I need a second opinion.”

  Sam grinned and wrapped her hand around my arm. It lingered longer than necessary. “Feels pretty hard to me.”

  Abby snorted, which made Garland snort. Then they both lost it. I backhanded him in the stomach. “Keep it PG, dude; we’re in the presence of ladies.”

  “What?” He nodded at Abby. “She started it.”

  “I did not!”

  “Yes, you did. Old dirty mind McGee over there.”

  “Ah!” Abby scoffed. When Garland chuckled, she balled her hand up and took a swing at his shoulder. He dodged it easily by grabbing her fist and twisting her around. She was facing away from him but was trapped against his chest.

  “That was pretty smooth,” Sam said. “Where’d you learn to move like that?”

  “At the ninja academy,” he quipped. Sam gave him a flat look. He released Abby and shrugged. “My sister’s best friend taught me a long time ago. Chrissy loves to punch people.”

  “It’s true,” I confirmed with a nod. “I think she and Abby would get along famously.”

  Garland rubbed his shoulder. “For safety’s sake, I hope they never meet.” I half expected Abby to get defensive, but she only giggled again. She wasn’t so giggly the first time we met. Maybe Garland was having that effect on her. This accidental meetup was going way better than I thought it would.

  “What is it with girls and violence?” I pondered aloud.

  “I’m not violent,” Abby argued. Then she socked me in the arm.

  I threw my hands in the air. “I see how it is. Garland gets a giggle, and I get whacked.”

  “Life’s not fair,” she replied with a one-shouldered shrug and not an ounce of sympathy.

  Garland grew thoughtful for a moment. He looked at me. “Huh, I guess you really did need my protection from girls. Go figure.”

  “Ha ha, funny guy.”

  Our inside joke caused a brief lull in the conversation. I could tell that Abby felt awkward by the way she shifted from one foot to the other. “We should probably get going,” she said.

  “Yeah, us too.” Garland glared sideways at me. “We were supposed to be on a short break.”

  “It was good seeing you again.” Abby smiled at Garland.

  “Hey, what about me?” I pretended to be hurt.

  “Jury’s still out on you,” she teased.

  Sam rescued my pride. “I was happy to see you.”

  “At least someone around here appreciates me.”

  “You’re definitely appreciated.” Sam sent me a lazy smile and winked.

  “Oh, brother.” Garland looked between the two of us and shook his head. He had no right to be annoyed. It’s not like I was flirting back. Well, I wasn’t trying to, anyway. “See you around,” he said, giving the girls a single wave before walking off without me.

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Abby’s statement sounded like a question.

  “I’ll be there,” I replied, while walking backward. “If you promise to be nice.”

  “Says the guy who picks on me every time we talk.”

  “I can’t help it.” I grinned impishly. “You’re just so easy to pick on.”

  “Good-bye, Evan,” she said kind of snarkily as she turned and headed into the dorm.

  “Bye,” I called back and hurried off to catch up with Garland.

  The moment I reached his side, he said, “You told me you didn’t have an agenda. That little meetup was clearly planned. I’m just not sure if you orchestrated it on your own or if you had help.”

  “What?” I gasped. “Running into them was 100 percent coincidental.”

  “Sure it was.” He scoffed. “So which one do you like?”

  “What makes you think I like one of them?”

  Garland’s eyes practically rolled into the back of his head. If his expression got any drier, his face would turn into dust and blow away. “You must think I’m really stupid.”

  “Can’t a guy be just friends with a girl?”

  “Some guys can. You can’t.”

  I huffed out a big puff of air. I could see the breath leave my nostrils, making a thin white cloud in front of my mouth like a bull ready to charge. “I resent that.”

  “Resent away, my friend. I speak the truth, and you know it.” It didn’t matter that I’d turned over a new leaf. Garland would never believe my motives were selfless. “My money’s on Sam. She’s totally your type.”

  I should have copped to liking Sam right then. It would have made things easier. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though. Garland was right. Physically, she was my type in every way. But I had absolutely no interest in her romantically. In fact, it was kind of crazy how much I wasn’t into her. So much so, that it felt wrong lying about it.

  “What makes you think it’s not Abby?” I’m not sure why I said it. It was dumb of
me, considering I wanted Garland to like her, and he wouldn’t if he thought he had to compete. But the words uncontrollably tumbled from my mouth.

  “Because she seems too sweet and innocent for you. And to be honest, she’s kind of on the dorky side.” He paused. “She’s a cute dork, but a dork nonetheless.”

  “You’re on the dorky side, and I like you,” I retorted sassily.

  “That’s different. You don’t want to date me.”

  “Who says?” I asked, just to get him flustered. It worked.

  “Um, how about the copious number of pheromones you emit whenever a hot chick walks into the room? Or the way you eat up the attention any girl gives you?”

  I frowned. “I’m not that bad.” I totally was. Another reason to take a break from dating. The new and improved Evan didn’t want to be seen as a player anymore.

  Garland smirked wickedly. “Besides, if you were into me, I’d have had to request a new roommate months ago. I’m too irresistible.”

  “You really are.” I agreed, and smacked him on the butt.

  He yelped. “Stop sexually harassing me!”

  “You said it yourself, you’re too irresistible.” I laughed.

  He grimaced, distancing himself from me. I let him go, the wheels in my head spinning as I fell farther behind him. Our little field trip had been a success. Garland admitted that Abby was cute. And Abby had done the same about Garland at lunch this week. Attraction was the first essential element, which they seemed to have.

  The next step was getting them to spend more time together. I wouldn’t leave the meeting tomorrow without a commitment to hang out. Unfortunately, that meant I’d be pairing off with Sam. It wasn’t ideal, but it was necessary for the plan to be successful. I’d just have to be careful not to lead her on. It was good if Garland thought I liked Sam, but not so much if Sam thought I liked Sam. That could get messy really quick.

  “How’s my favorite book nerd?” I teased Abby when I walked into the student government meeting. She had her nose in a novel again, but this time she didn’t bother to make eye contact when her face tipped up. She did, however, stick out her tongue at me. “Must be a really good book if you can’t pry your eyes away long enough to stare at the best-looking guy in the room.”

  Her chin popped up, and she scanned the tables. “I don’t see Rusty anywhere.”

  I stuck out my bottom lip as I slapped my hand over my chest. “You wound my heart.”

  She smirked. “Is that where you store your over inflated ego?”

  My eyebrows knit together. “I have a feeling you’re going to be difficult today.”

  “If you can’t take it, don’t dish it.” The smugness was rolling off her. What happened to the timid, bashful, hesitant girl from last week?

  I sat next to her and leaned in until I was only a few inches from her face. To her credit, she steeled her expression, even though I could tell she wanted to pull back. “Oh, I can take it,” I said in a low, throaty voice. “I think you’re the one who can’t handle what I’m dishing.” I winked. “It’s way too steamy for you.”

  She jerked her head to the side and coughed into her hand, masking her chuckle. “It’s steaming, all right. Like a huge pile of poop.”

  I reared back. “Did you just say poop?” After a good laugh, I slid my arm around her shoulder and gave her a side hug. A rosy color crept up her neck and into her cheeks. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that I was teasing her or because I was touching her. Either way, it made me want to hold on longer. Well, that and the sweet, citrusy smell of her perfume.

  “I figured poop was a nicer word than what I was thinking.” She wiggled out of my grip and busied herself by digging through her bag. But she didn’t politely ignore me, and according to Sam, that meant she didn’t mind the attention.

  Before I could come back with another witty retort, the meeting was called to order. I focused my full attention up front, because frankly, Larissa was scary. Going over the official business only took a few minutes. After that, we were instructed to split into our activity groups and select a committee chair. There were six people on the dance committee, including Abby and me. Everyone gathered at our table.

  “So, who’s running this show?” I asked. People looked around the table, but nobody volunteered. “Anyone want to nominate somebody?”

  “Why don’t you do it?” Abby asked.

  “I will, if you want me to, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ve never been to a school dance, so I might screw things up.”

  A girl named Jessie gasped. “You’ve never been to a school dance?”

  “Nope.”

  “Not even homecoming? Or prom?” Abby was as shocked as the rest of the group.

  I shook my head. “We moved around Europe for a lot of my high school years. Dances weren’t something my schools did very often. And when there was one, I always seemed to be leaving right before it happened. We came back to the States in the middle of my senior year. I did plan to attend my prom, but I woke up super sick the morning of the dance. My parents had to take me to the emergency room and everything. I gave my date the tickets, and she went with someone else.”

  “That’s, like, the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jessie replied. “Weren’t you devastated?”

  I shrugged. “A little. But I didn’t know what I was missing, so I got over it.”

  There were three girls in our group besides Abby. She sat back, observing intently while the rest of them consoled me with comforting words and touches. Apparently, I’d skipped out on a very important rite of passage. The situation made me think of what Garland said the day before. Normally, I loved all the attention. But today, it felt like my bubble was being invaded.

  Eventually Trent, the other guy in our group, got fed up with the cooing and coddling. “I’ll be chair. I was student body president at my high school. I’ve organized plenty of dances.”

  “I second that idea,” I said, scooting my seat away from the table to clear some space around me. “Everyone else cool if Trent’s in charge?”

  There was a wave of head bobs. Abby continued to study me as if I were an enigma. What’s worse is I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Her scrutiny shouldn’t have made me self-conscious. It did, though. I don’t know why, but it bothered me for her to see the other girls making a fuss. Like maybe she thought I was seeking their attention.

  I turned toward Trent and held my hand out as if giving the reins over. “Alrighty, take it away, boss.” Thank goodness everyone forgot about me when he stepped in.

  We made a thorough list of things that needed to be done. Rather than asking who wanted to do what, Trent assigned us to partnerships. “Callie and Laura, you’re in charge of music and food. Evan and…”

  He paused. His eyes darted between Abby on my right and Jessie on my left. I did not want to be paired with Jessie. After I scooted back to the table, she repositioned her chair so that she was practically sitting in my lap. I subtly jerked my head toward Abby and pleaded telepathically.

  “…Abby,” Trent finally finished. I breathed a giant sigh of relief and made a mental note to thank him later. “You guys will handle facilities and decorations. Jessie and I can cover marketing and ticket sales.”

  “Sounds good,” I replied a little too enthusiastically. Abby stifled a giggle, so I reached down to pinch her knee. It didn’t help; she only giggled more.

  “Okay,” Trent said, “we’re done here. But I suggest you take a few minutes right now to coordinate with your partner.” He beckoned Jessie to another table, and she reluctantly complied.

  “See you later, Evan.”

  “Bye.” I smiled politely.

  Once Jessie was out of range, Abby snickered. “Shh!” I scolded. “She’ll hear you.”

  “Boy, you ruined her weekend,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “I thought it was just Sam, but now I’m beginning to think you have that effect on all girls.”

  “I seem to b
e powerless over you,” I pointed out.

  It caught her off guard, and she fumbled with her response. “Well, I’m not a typical girl. You know, more XY than XX, and all that.”

  “So I’ve concluded.” After I said it, I realized she might take it the wrong way. “And it has nothing to do with your bra size,” I added.

  “Oh, for the love…” She folded her arms on the table and buried her head in them.

  I chuckled and nudged her in the ribs. “I’m kidding.”

  She raised her head, face flaming with embarrassment. Glancing down at her shirt, she said, “That might be worse.”

  Abby’s habit of saying dumb stuff in my presence was one of the quirks I liked about her. Except once she got started, she had a hard time stopping. I cradled one of my hands behind her head and placed the other gently over her mouth. She froze. “Would you quit blabbering before the hole you’re digging gets so deep I can’t crawl out of it?”

  Her eyes crinkled around the edges. Her lips puckered slightly against my palm. I couldn’t help noticing how soft they were. Her skin was soft, too. Her hair was shiny. She always smelled nice. Abby was like an enchanting, delicate flower—the kind that entices bugs to get close, then sucks them in and eats them for dinner.

  I dropped my hand and she cleared her throat, moving on as if nothing had happened. “So, decorations for the dance. We have a $500 dollar limit. What should we get?”

  I decided to roll with it. “Beats me. I’ve never been to a dance, remember?”

  “Hmm.” Her face scrunched up. The glasses perched on her nose had chunky purple frames and tiny lenses. They resembled my grandma’s bifocals, but oddly enough, she pulled it off. They must have been for reading, because she didn’t wear them all the time. When they started to slip down, she pushed them back up with her index finger. “Maybe we should hit up a party supply store? Walk around and see what there is. Might help us figure out what we need.”

  “Good idea.” I nodded absently, still fixated on her old lady specs. Would Garland think they were cute or that they added to her dorkiness? If he didn’t like them, he was an idiot.