Their Matchmaker

by Allyson Lindt

  “I do.” He could almost hear Gavin in his head. Never asking, just assuming Cyn would say yes.

  “I said I’d only see him if he understood I want to see the two of you back together. And I mean that.”

  “And he was okay with that?”

  “He didn’t protest.”

  “Good, I guess?” Bitterness mingled with hope. It was an unpleasant combination. He didn’t miss the way Gavin and Cyn got along—that spark the first time they met. He trusted her, though. He wanted to feel the same about Gavin, but he couldn’t find that in himself.

  “He still loves you as much as you do him. It’ll take time, but the two of you will work through this.”

  “You sound so certain.”

  “Someone has to be.” She smiled. “You’ll get there; I don’t doubt it for a second.”

  “Thanks.” He wished he was this certain, but he’d use her assurance to bolster his own.

  “In the meantime, do you have plans Friday night?”

  “I’m going to guess I’m spending it with you.”

  “Perfect.” She grinned. “Emily has a friend coming into town, and she asked me to show him around. She assures me he’s charming and intelligent and handsome. You know this city better than I do so...”

  “You want me to be the third wheel on your date?” That sounded less than fun. Jealousy nibbled his nerves.

  Cyn studied him, brows furrowed. “It’s not a date.”

  “Does he know that? Because your friend is trying to set you up.”

  “Emily wouldn’t.”

  “You’d know better than me. I’m sure I’m reading too much into it.” He was pretty sure he wasn’t, but he was also relieved Cyn would rather have him there.

  AARON LOCKED UP HIS moping. If he was going to spend the night on the town, even as a third wheel, he was going to enjoy it. Getting out would be good for him.

  He spotted Cyn outside the restaurant as he approached. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and her posture was stiff. The man she was talking to was handsome; Emily had been right about that. Light-brown hair, dark eyes, and the cut of his torso did dangerous things to his T-shirt.

  If it were six months ago, he’d be the kind of guy Aaron went for. How fucked up was that? Now that he was technically single, he felt worse for looking than he ever had when he and Gavin were together.

  Cyn’s expression shifted to genuine as Aaron approached. “I’m glad you made it.” She wrapped him in a hug, then stepped back. “This is Nathan. Nathan, Aaron.”

  “Great to meet you.” Aaron shook his hand. Nathan’s grip was firm, and his palm warm.

  “Same.” Nathan nodded at the Planet Hollywood. “Thanks, both of you, for indulging my tourist side. I bet both of you are sick of places like this.”

  “I’ve never been,” Cyn said.

  Aaron shook his head. “Same.” Gavin would never go near here, with hordes of people all hoping to catch a glimpse of... whatever star-seekers were looking for.

  “Awesome.” Nathan draped an arm over each of them and steered them toward the entrance. “We’ll be awkward tourists together. I’ve got a few friends who insist the last thing you do when you visit a new place is hit up the tourist spots, but I say that’s like going to France and avoiding the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre.”

  Aaron laughed. “I don’t know that anyone ever has compared Planet Hollywood to The Louvre.”

  “Which is one of the many reasons you’ll enjoy my company this evening. Two seconds.” Nathan left them to approach the host station.

  Inside was a painful expansion of the neon and concrete that decorated the building front. The neon theme continued along booths and tables and display after display of memorabilia and people. There were many voices, Aaron could barely hear himself think. He didn’t have to wallow. He couldn’t ignore the outside world, which meant he was required to exist in it. It was exactly what he needed.

  “If you bail early, I’ll understand.” Cyn’s comment was soft, meant for Aaron’s ears.

  He glanced at her. Her grimace looked plastered on. He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll be fine. We’ll have fun.”

  She raised her brows. “Really?”

  “Absolutely.” If he thought about it, the answer would be I don’t know, but in here, he didn’t have to think.

  Nathan joined them again. “Lady and gentleman, our table awaits.” He gave a deep bow and gestured toward a host waiting with menus.

  They were seated at a table in the middle of the dining room, surrounded by people. It had been years since Gavin was willing to put up with something like this. Even when they visited busy places, he tipped his way into the quietest corner of the room.

  “Are you two an item? Thing? Couple?” Nathan looked between Aaron and Cyn.

  Aaron’s no died in his throat, and he didn’t know why.

  “We’re not.” Cyn didn’t seem to have any trouble spitting it out. Which was appropriate.

  Aaron should follow up the response with a, Because I’m in a long-term relationship. That stuck in his throat too. He wasn’t sure which was the bigger deception—keeping it to himself or saying it aloud.

  “Excellent.” Nathan leaned in, gaze lingering on Aaron. “Then I won’t feel like an ass for hitting on you.”

  Which was Aaron’s cue to mention Gavin.

  Fuck that. They’d had an open relationship, and now that Gavin had ended things, Aaron was going to hesitate? No. If he was going to do tonight, he might as well try to enjoy it.

  Cyn coughed.

  Their waiter chose that moment to interrupt for their drink orders.

  “Iced tea for me,” Cyn said.

  Nathan studied the cocktail page. “If you had to pick, would you go with the ‘Hellboy’ or the ‘Iron Man’?”

  There was no way those were drink names. Aaron flipped to the list, and sure enough, they also had a ‘Gorillas in the Mist’ and a ‘Legally Blonde’. It was ridiculous. Who the hell took something like that seriously?

  “I’m an ‘Iron Man’ kind of guy, personally,” the waiter said.

  “Perfect. Get me one of those.”

  “You know what?” Aaron shoved down the internal protest at what he was about to do. “Give me a ‘Hellboy’. Might as well try them both.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had a drink, but if he was eating and only had the one, he should be able to handle the liquor fine. And it wasn’t as if he was driving.

  “Emily tells me you’re an honest-to-God matchmaker.” Nathan looked at Cyn. “And you have a way to filter out the creeps.”

  She shook her head. “Creeps is a subjective term. I get to pick my clientele.”

  “And the science starts after that?”

  “Yup.” Cyn managed to clip off the short word.

  A memory flashed through Aaron’s mind—the day she pitched her company in the VC offices, and what she told him after. Some people didn’t work with her algorithm. Based on the tight line of Cyn’s jaw, he had a feeling Nathan fell into that category.

  Aaron didn’t have a problem with that. He wasn’t looking for an algorithm to tell him the guy was attractive and some of the most high-energy fun he’d seen in long time.

  Their drinks arrived, and Aaron let the first gulp burn down his throat. Getting drunk was only a mask. He wasn’t interested in it being a long-term solution, but fuck if right now it didn’t sound brilliant. Another bonus to the night.

  Nathan cringed when he took a swallow of his. “Pineapple juice. Ugh. I need to learn to read.” He looked more amused than annoyed and held out his glass. “Trade me?”

  “Sure.” Aaron swapped drinks with him.

  “You work with Emily, right?” Cyn’s tone was strained. “You’re a programmer?”

  “For her sister in law. Rather, I guess technically not by marriage, but Tara might as well be. And it’s all the same company. But my contract there ended a week ago. You’re on the matchmaking board of directors?” Nathan kept most of his attention
focused on Aaron.

  Cyn looked surprised at the question. Did she tell him that? Aaron didn’t miss that Nathan avoided half of her question. He had a lot in common with Gavin, including the rapid-fire dialog to keep the conversation going the way he wanted. There wasn’t a dark cloud floating over Nathan’s head, though.

  “I’ve always wondered how that works. Board member. Is that a profession? Something you get hired for? What does your resume look like?”

  It’s complicated. Aaron bit back the answer. A statement like that bred curiosity, and he didn’t want to linger on the topic. “You know how it goes. Independently wealthy because I cashed out of my first IPO at twenty-five, so I kick it and go where I feel like.”

  Nathan laughed. “I don’t know if you’re joking, though I have a feeling you’re not. I love it either way.”

  Aaron finished his drink and ordered another with his meal. Fuck the outside world. There was too much potential for fun tonight.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A FEW HOURS LATER, the three of them sat in a rum bar Nathan had heard about online. The place was a dive, and as crowded as Planet Hollywood had been. Aaron loved it. Energy thrummed in the air, around the people and through him.

  Or maybe that was the liquor and the fact that Nathan sat so his thigh brushed Aaron’s. The pleasant buzz in Aaron’s skull tried to insist that was a red halo around Nathan’s head. It was just the bar lights, but Aaron liked the contradicting visual.

  Cynthia pushed back from the table. “I’m thinking of calling it a night.”

  Aaron grasped her fingers.

  “Not yet. Soon,” Nathan said.

  “Why Italy?” Aaron brought the topic back to where it was before the interruption.

  “I wanted a change of scenery.” A goofy smile played on Nathan’s face. “And it was a change. God, the things I’ve seen there. Not God, actually. Went to The Vatican and everything. His calendar was booked.”

  It was only a chuckle-worthy joke, but that didn’t stop Aaron from laughing. “I’d love to leave everything behind and go like that.”

  Cynthia frowned. “It’s not for everyone.”

  “It worked for Emily. Hell, half the people in the office were from someplace else.” Nathan’s eyes were bright, and his suggestion light. “I know. You should come back with me when I fly out in a few days.”

  Cynthia tugged free of Aaron’s grasp. Her mask was gone, replaced with a scowl that etched itself into all her features. If she was upset because of Gavin, or for whatever reason, she didn’t have a right to be. Aaron didn’t make that decision, and he was fucking tired of letting it devour him.

  So when he said, “I can’t,” his words caught him off-guard.

  “You sure?” Nathan leaned close enough his breath caressed Aaron’s cheek. He smelled like tequila and aftershave, and it made Aaron’s head swim. “Independently wealthy, right? You can occupy a board seat from another country.”

  “It’s tempting...” Aaron wanted to say yes. Why couldn’t he?

  Nathan brushed his lips over Aaron’s. There were no sparks, but fuck, if the blood didn’t rush from Aaron’s head and straight to his cock.

  “Yup. I’m done. You two enjoy each other.” Irritation dripped from Cyn’s words.

  “We will. Thanks for the hookup.” Nathan waved at her.

  Aaron shoved down the creeping guilt and hurt, cupped Nathan’s face between his palms, and dove in for another kiss. A groan escaped Aaron’s throat, and he pressed closer. They locked lips so long his thoughts swayed.

  Or maybe that was the alcohol. Aaron didn’t know or care. Time slowed to a crawl, as his tongue danced with Nathan’s and their hands roamed everywhere, exploring.

  It was such a simple thing—making out in the middle of a bar—but it made Aaron’s pulse hammer in his ears and filled him with a giddiness he hadn’t experienced in ages. They broke apart with twin gasps.

  “Do you want to head back to my place? Take this somewhere more private?” Aaron asked. He ignored the doubt screaming in the back of his skull. The booze made that easier, which was pleasant.

  “Fuck yes.”

  In the taxi, Aaron didn’t keep his hands to himself. He dove back into the kissing, running his fingers along Nathan’s chest, and falling into the sensation of Nathan’s lips on his neck and ears.

  They were a tangle of limbs as they rode the elevator up to the condo. Aaron was tempted to push him back against the wall, drop to his knees, and suck him off. The way Nathan’s erection dug into him, it was clear the desire flowed both ways.

  The seconds it took to stumble their way to the door were excruciating. Aaron unlocked it, and pushed Nathan inside.

  As they stepped into the house, Gavin’s familiar scent drilled into Aaron’s thoughts, and his mind ground to a halt. He couldn’t smell anything else. His stomach churned.

  Nathan looked around the room, gaze pausing on the pictures near the TV. “Are you... with someone?” For the first time that night, hesitation leaked into his voice.

  “I was, but he’s gone.” Aaron pulled Nathan back to him. Desperation clawed inside, to find what they had seconds earlier.

  Nathan studied him. “So I’m the rebound fuck?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all.” Nathan kissed him again, hard and hungrily, gripped Aaron’s cock through his jeans and stroked.

  Aaron groaned against his mouth, trying to slide back into the moment. Focus on the physical. Force out the thoughts. It didn’t work. Aaron broke away with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this after all.”

  “I get it. No worries.” Nathan’s smile was back, but now it looked more like Cyn’s had most of the night. He stepped around Aaron. “For what it’s worth, he’s a lucky guy, and he was stupid to give you up.”

  “Thanks.” Aaron locked the door behind Nathan, then collapsed on the sofa. He didn’t agree with Nathan’s words. It wasn’t a one-way street with Gavin. They were both lucky, and the fault flowed two ways as well.

  Aaron’s gut churned, and the pleasant buzz was gone. In its place, he found himself drowning in shittiest boyfriend ever.

  CYNTHIA SAT NEXT TO Gavin on a bench in the garden. “I can see why this is a perfect recovery spot. It’s gorgeous here.” She could almost forget the outside world existed. Until the same image flashed through her mind that had tormented her since it imprinted—Nathan kissing Aaron. She was furious on Gavin’s behalf, and used that to convince herself there was no jealousy mingled in. She didn’t give a shit who or what Aaron did, as it related to her.

  “It is nice.” Gavin looked relaxed. At peace. And more handsome than she remembered. “Are you all right?”

  “I should be asking you that.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him about last night. Didn’t even know how to classify it. It wasn’t technically cheating, was it?

  “I’m great. Working through a lot of crap. I have baggage. Who knew?”

  “I think most people do. You’re just confronting yours.” She’d lose herself in this conversation, and things would be fine. The shock of last night would wear off, and she’d realize she was overreacting.

  “I suppose.” His tone was easy and casual. “Why didn’t you pursue psychology?”

  She studied his expression. She didn’t know what she was looking for.

  “You told me you had a degree. I was curious—why get something that involved, and then not use it?”

  She’d forgotten they talked about that. It warmed her from the inside that he remembered. “I use it. It’s part of my business. But in the context you mean? I’m too cynical, and I have a horrible bedside manner.”

  “You’re easy to talk to. Maybe not for other people, but for me, since that first day.”

  She didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. The memory shifted the heat to scorch her skin and make her pulse race. “In my office? Where the two of you...”

  “Almost talked you out of your panties.”


  “Not what I would have said.” Because she couldn’t find a more subtle way to put it.

  “But you were thinking it.”

  “Guilty.” She couldn’t hide her amusement. “But I assumed that kind of conversation was status quo for you.”

  “Nah. Most people don’t appreciate when Aaron and I do that. It tends to piss them off. But you fell into it.”

  A soft breeze carried through the garden, ruffling her hair and kissing away the flames in her cheeks and filling her nostrils with the sweet scent of flowers. It all mingled with Gavin’s easy attitude and helped her relax. “It was fun. It always is with you two.” Was?

  “Which is my point. As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of the best listeners in the world.”

  “Thanks.” She wasn’t sure what else to say to that.

  He shifted in his seat so he was facing her. “What’s your diagnosis?”

  “Excuse me?” She turned as well. The scenery here was nice, but looking him in the eye was better.

  “Despite what you said, that night at dinner, you made an off-the-cuff diagnosis. I’m wondering if it’s still the same, and what it is.”

  It was dangerous territory to step into, under the best circumstances. Unethical, potentially damaging, and a sure-fire way to ruin a friendship if she said the wrong thing. “I think you’re intelligent and compassionate and trying to figure out where you fit in the world. You’re looking everywhere and...” She bit the inside of her cheek. No need to say more.

  “You’re holding back.”

  “Do you blame me?”

  He raised her head to meet his gaze. “I promise not to use what you say against you.”

  She wanted to shake her head in refusal, but didn’t want to break the contact or lose the intensity of his gaze. She could fall into those eyes. “I still can’t.”

  “I’ll help.” He cupped her neck and traced a thumb along the line of her jaw. “I’m looking everywhere for answers, and resenting myself and others when I can’t find them or they’re not what I want to hear.”

  She didn’t like how close to home the words hit, not just for him, but her. Not that their circumstances were the same. She’d lived a vanilla suburban life, and the worst thing that had ever happened to her was when she pissed off her best friend. She still regretted the way she pushed Emily away, but that was nothing compared to what Gavin and Aaron were going through. She didn’t think a phone call and a bit of groveling would repair their rift. “That’s not the way I would have phrased it,” she said.