Imperfect Match

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Imperfect Match Page 7

by Melanie Harlow


  “My younger brother actually works there,” Reid is saying. “Talk about dream job.”

  “Totally!” Kandace agrees.

  “He comes home and talks about how hard his day at work was, and I’m like, ‘Really, bro? Tough day at the comic store?’”

  Kandace’s squeaky giggle floats through the fern, and I wince. “Strike one, annoying laugh,” I whisper to Aspen. “Sounds like nails on a chalkboard.”

  A server comes by, and we both order a martini, vodka for me, gin for Aspen—but only after she inquires about the botanicals in the spirit and whether it was handcrafted locally or not.

  “Now what are they talking about?” Aspen pesters.

  “Boring stuff. Their jobs. Colleges. Comics.”

  My sister frowns. “That is boring. Maybe they don’t have any chemistry.”

  I perk up. “Maybe they don’t.”

  Our drinks arrive, and I take a sip, cheerful at the thought that maybe I was wrong and Reid and Kandace aren’t a good match.

  And then.

  “You know, this is so nice,” I hear Kandace tell him. “I was really nervous about tonight because I don’t really date much. My sister made me try My Heart’s Desire after my last relationship ended badly, and at first, I was totally against the idea. I didn’t think there was any way it would work.”

  “No?”

  “No. I was convinced I’d be forced to go on a bunch of really terrible blind dates with slobs or jerks or creeps. But I’m happy to say I was wrong. You’re none of those things.”

  “Are you sure?” Reid jokes.

  Squeaky laugh. “Pretty sure. And you’re so easy to talk to. I haven’t felt so relaxed on a date in forever. So if it’s all an act, don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.”

  Reid chuckles. “Okay, I won’t.”

  “So what about you? Have you been on many dates with the agency?”

  “Never. This is my first one.”

  “Really?” Kandace sounds happy about that.

  “Really.”

  “Actually, that doesn’t surprise me. A guy like you probably doesn’t need an agency. You must have beautiful women falling all over you all the time.”

  “Nah,” says Reid. “Just once or twice a day.”

  More squeaky laughter. He’s got to be annoyed by now. God knows I am.

  “Handsome and funny,” Kandace says. “I don’t get why you’re still single if you don’t want to be.”

  “I don’t mind being single,” Reid tells her. “It’s better than going on a lot of bad dates.”

  “Tell me about it. I’d pretty much given up before Willow called me with your profile as a match. She’s really good at her job, isn’t she?”

  Aspen pokes me. “Now what are they saying?”

  “Shhh,” I admonish. “They’re talking about me.” Aspen leans over so she can hear too, practically pushing me into the plant. Her craft gin with eight botanicals spills onto my leg.

  “She’s pretty good at everything,” Reid says, making my pulse quicken. I bring my glass to my lips for a sip and remember his tongue slipping between them earlier tonight. My stomach flips wildly.

  “Oh really? Are you two friends?”

  “Yeah. She lives across the hall from me.”

  “How nice,” Kandace says in a voice that tells me she does not really think it’s nice at all.

  “For me, it is. Willow is the best cook in the world. I’d probably starve to death if it wasn’t for her.”

  Kandace laughs politely but there’s not much squeak to it. She leans over to the table and picks up her glass of white wine for a long swallow.

  Reid, meanwhile, keeps talking about me. “She makes this Doritos casserole that’s so good,” he tells her.

  “I don’t really like Doritos,” Kandace says.

  Strike two, I think.

  “She makes other stuff, too. Chicken parm, chili, baked ziti, this eggplant dish that I didn’t think I would like but she forced me to try.”

  “Wow. Sounds like you two are pretty close.” Kandace sets her wine glass down and shifts her position, moving a little closer to Reid.

  “We are.”

  “Is it romantic between you?”

  Reid doesn’t answer right away, and I realize I won’t be able to breathe until he does. I don’t even know how I want him to answer, but somehow everything between us is hanging in the balance with her question. Aspen must know this, because she grabs my arm and squeezes tight.

  “No,” he finally replies. “It isn’t.”

  The weight of it crushes me for no good reason. After all, it’s the truth. It’s not romantic between us. That kiss today was a mistake. That little wrestling match on my floor last week was a near miss. I shouldn’t be upset about this.

  Aspen sighs and sits back in her chair, sipping her drink, but I’m still paralyzed.

  “Good,” Kandace is saying, and now she’s reaching over and touching his leg. “I don’t want to get in the way if something is going on with you guys, but I’m having a really nice time. I hope you are too.”

  “Sure,” he says without much oomph. “This is great.”

  “And not awkward at all,” she goes on. Then she pauses. “Of course, it could get awkward later, if you’re wondering whether you should kiss me goodnight.”

  Silence. I lean farther into the plant, pushing leaves aside so I can see Reid’s expression.

  He looks slightly taken aback but recovers quickly, one brow cocked up. “Yeah, I guess it could.” After a sip of his drink, which looks like maybe an old fashioned, he asks, “So what’s the verdict? Should I?”

  A loud noise escapes me, a sort of frightened shriek. It’s so loud that Aspen claps a hand over my mouth from behind.

  “Definitely.” Kandace’s squeaky laugh is back, and she sways toward him. “But why wait? Why not get it out of the way right now?”

  I want to hit her. Seething, I lean even deeper into the plant for a better view.

  How could I have thought this was a good idea?

  Nine

  Reid

  The woman leaning toward me with her hand on my leg and her eyes on my mouth is cute, engaging, and sweet.

  But she’s not Willow, and I don’t want to kiss her.

  However, it would serve Willow right if I did kiss Kandace, considering that she is spying on us from the other side of that giant plant. Did she think I wouldn’t notice her and Aspen sneaking in and staking out right behind us? It’s fucking ridiculous how obvious they are.

  But right now, I’ve got a bigger problem.

  “I’m a man who likes the element of surprise,” I tell Kandace. “I think it’s more romantic.”

  Her face falls, but she smiles as she sits back. “You’re right. A surprise kiss is more romantic.”

  And it’s right at that moment that Willow topples off her chair and into the plant before landing on the floor on her back, her martini glass clattering on the dark wood.

  Kandace squeals, clapping a hand over her heart. “Oh my goodness, are you okay?”

  Willow looks a little stunned but grabs her glass, pops to her feet, and smooths her hair. “I’m fine.”

  “Aren’t you … Willow? From the agency?” Kandace asks in confusion.

  “Yes. Hello.” She plasters a smile on her face and looks from Kandace to me. “Fancy seeing you here. What a coincidence.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and decide to mess with her. “Not really, since you made the reservation for us.”

  She blinks at me several times, probably wishing her glass wasn’t empty and she had something to toss in my face. “Did I? I must have forgotten.”

  “Must have.” I give her a grin.

  “Well, we should be going, Aspen,” Willow says to her sister. “We’re scouting out several different places tonight to send potential matches,” she tells us, as if that explains what she was doing hiding in a plant. “Enjoy your evening.”

  “You too,” Kand
ace says as Willow grabs her sister by the sleeve and drags her to the front of the bar. “That was odd, wasn’t it?” she asks once we’re alone.

  “Not if you know those two. Wills is usually pretty sane, but her sister is certifiable.”

  “You’re … close with her family?” Kandace picks up her wine again.

  “I don’t know if I’d say close, but I’ve known them for years. They’re a little nutty, but they’re good people.”

  Kandace switches the subject then, and we order another round of drinks. The next hour I spend with her is perfectly pleasant, so I ask her to dinner, mostly because I’m starving at that point.

  We enjoy a leisurely meal and expensive bottle of wine at a nice Italian restaurant, and she’s all the things Willow promised she would be, but I don’t feel any spark. So after paying the bill, I walk her out, give her a hug and friendly kiss on the cheek, and put her in a cab. I can tell from the look on her face she’s disappointed, but what was I supposed to do? Pretend to be more interested than I was? Waste her time? Take her home and bang her just to get rid of the tension?

  I wouldn’t do that—although believe me, I thought about it for a hot second.

  But she’s not Willow. And Willow is all I can think about.

  I walk back to our apartment building in no particular hurry, trying to work out in my head what’s going on in my heart. Or at least in my pants.

  I’ve always found Willow attractive, but it’s never been worth wrecking what has come to be the closest relationship I’ve ever had with anyone, male or female, outside of my brother. Willow knows me. She gets me. And she still loves me. I don’t want to fuck with that, so I understand why she called that kiss a mistake. If I give in to whatever is pulling me toward her, I worry that I’ll lose the one person in my world who sees me for who I am and accepts me, faults and all.

  Because what the fuck do I know about how to make a woman happy?

  I cross the street, hands in my pockets. I certainly never saw an example growing up with my parents. I thought I made Glinda happy, and look what happened. She said I was a terrible boyfriend who took her for granted. She called me selfish and immature. She told me I never really let her in, and maybe she was right. Maybe I hadn’t. Maybe deep down, some part of me knew I shouldn’t trust her.

  Still, the breakup sucked and I never want to go through that shit again.

  But what am I going to do about these crazy feelings for Willow? They don’t feel like the same old urges to get her naked. They’re stronger and more intense. They can’t be buried or shoved aside. They’re like this constant pressure inside me, these nagging questions that refuse to leave me alone.

  What would it be like to have her that way? Skin to skin? Breathless and begging? My body inside hers?

  I want answers, I think as I open the door to our building.

  No, I need them.

  I take the elevator up to our floor and go right to her apartment. Using the key she gave me, I unlock her door, smiling that she still hasn’t changed the lock, and head inside.

  “Reid?” She jumps off the couch and I freeze.

  Jesus, she’s fucking beautiful. I’ve seen her a million times like this, but I don’t know what it is—I can’t breathe.

  Her hair is piled up on top of her head in some sort of nest, the glasses that she swears she doesn’t need are on, and her legs ... God, her legs. Long, sweet, slender … they would look perfect around my neck.

  “What are you doing here? If this is about …” She stops talking and looks at me, her eyes full of confusion as I watch her chest rise and fall.

  I walk toward her, unable to stand still. My hands grip her cheeks, and I pull her mouth to mine. Her gasp is swallowed by the searing kiss. Her fingers wrap around my wrists and I don’t know if she’s trying to stop me, but I’m going to keep going until she does.

  Yet she never does. Instead of pushing me away, her hands move to my hips.

  Willow kisses me back.

  She kisses me like this is the only option.

  She kisses me harder and more passionately than the last time.

  She gives as much as she takes and I fucking revel in it.

  This is crazy, but I don’t care. It’s right. It’s everything that finally makes sense. I wondered what it would be like and now I know—it’s fucking perfect.

  “Reid.” She says my name and then pulls my mouth back to hers.

  I kiss her, loving how our mouths fit and the way her tongue feels against mine.

  “Tell me to stop.” I give her an out that I pray she won’t take.

  “What?”

  “Tell me now, Wills.”

  I’m desperate for her. Seeing her tonight, knowing she was spying on me, did something to my heart that I can’t explain. It was the answer to the question that neither of us was willing to face.

  There’s something here.

  Maybe it’s new. Maybe it’s always been there but we didn’t see it. Maybe Willow and I needed to be pushed. Whatever the reason, the outcome is this.

  She touches my face. Her fingertips are soft, and she moves her thumb to my lip. “I can’t. I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want it to stop.”

  “Good, because I don’t think I could.”

  My mouth is back to hers the second the words are out.

  She giggles against my lips and I drink it in. Everything about Willow is sweet. Her mouth, her laughter, her heart. They all make her irresistible. I don’t know how I never saw it.

  I break the kiss and scoop her into my arms, bringing her back to the bedroom. She doesn’t say anything, and I’m glad for it.

  We’re both always in our heads and I’m very much ready to be in her instead.

  I lay her down and crawl over her, loving how she looks at me with lust-filled eyes. “Tell me what you want, Wills.” She shakes her head and I know what she’s doing, but I’m not having it. “Don’t think, baby, just tell me.”

  Her lids fall, closing me off to what she doesn’t want me to see, and I take a beat to really look at her. Lips swollen, shirt falling off her shoulder, hair fanning out on the bed. She looks like an angel.

  “I want you to kiss me,” she whispers.

  I do as she asks, leaning down, kissing her for just long enough and then pull back. “Like that?”

  She nods. “More.”

  “More? How much more?”

  Willow wraps her hand around my neck, this time not willing to speak, but willing to show me. I fucking love it. I love when a woman is confident in bed and will take what she wants. I moan into her mouth and then she pushes me back.

  “What do you want, Reid?”

  “You, this, everything.”

  She grins. “Be more specific.”

  Who am I to deny the lady? “Sit up.”

  I watch as she leans up and then grabs the bottom of her shirt, lifting it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra, and I thank God for small miracles.

  My hands are on her breasts, kneading and squeezing, watching how she responds. I’ve thought about this in so many ways, but actually feeling her skin is something else.

  She’s something else.

  In some ways, I think that Willow and I always knew this would happen. They say guys and girls can’t be just friends, but we were—until we weren’t. I don’t know when it changed, but I thank the Lord that it did.

  “Fuck, Wills,” I say and then press my lips to hers.

  Her hands are on my shirt, lifting it up. We break apart just long enough to remove it, and then I need to kiss her again. I’m kissing her for all the times that I could have and didn’t. I’m kissing her because if she fucking stops to think and goes back in her head, she’ll push me away, and I want all I can get.

  “Reid, please,” she whimpers and I could blow my load right now.

  Hearing her say my name like that is almost too much.

  “What do you want, sweetheart?”

  “Touch me.”

&n
bsp; My hands are on her breasts already, so I know it’s not that. “It would be my pleasure.”

  I slide my palms down her perfect body, loving how she squirms beneath me. I reach for her shorts and pull them off.

  I take a second, because this is Willow. My Willow. And she’s naked.

  “You have no idea how beautiful you are, Wills.”

  Her cheeks flame and I see a hint of her retreat. Hell no. I need to touch her, taste her, feel her, so I move in.

  She didn’t say how she wanted me to touch her, so I take the liberty of deciding for her.

  My tongue slides around her nipple, teasing, nipping just enough to make her stop thinking, and my hand slips between us. I find her clit and rub circles while mimicking the motion with my tongue.

  Willow moans, her head tossing from side to side. Her breathing grows louder and more rapid as I make her climb.

  I want to make her come so many times she can’t see straight. The male ego inside of me is roaring to make her forget every other man and desire no one but me.

  As she starts to move her legs, I know she’s getting close and I have to taste her.

  “Reid!” she calls out when I remove my hand, and I don’t waste a second.

  I grip her legs, tossing them over my shoulder, and then I run my tongue against her pussy. She lets out a loud groan and I do it again.

  Her hands grip my hair, both pushing me away and then holding me close. I take my time, making her sweat it out, make her work for her release. Sure, I could make it easier on her, but my entire goal is to drag this out as long as I can. I need her desperate for it.

  “Jesus. Please. Reid ... I’m so ... so close!”

  I increase the pressure from my tongue, and start to finger her at the same time, wishing it was my dick inside her. She’s soft, warm, and if I don’t get my cock inside her, I might possibly die.

  Seriously. It could happen.

  “Let go, Willow,” I say and then gently use my teeth on her clit.

  She’s fighting it, barely holding on, until she can’t anymore. She calls out my name as she finally finds the edge, her breathing is labored, and I could listen to her say it that way a million times.

  I climb up her body, her hands pressing against my chest. “That was …” But I can’t even describe it.

 

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