Can't Fix Cupid
Page 49
“Much better.”
“Good.”
When his eyes slip to my exposed thigh that isn’t tangled in sheets, I see his throat bob before his gaze tears away.
I watch him curiously, wondering why the hell he let me sleep in his bedroom instead of sticking me in one of his guest rooms. He didn’t even have to bring me here at all, but he did. I have no idea what to think about that. I’ve watched him for more than two months because I always found him fascinating. Okay, and hot. The hotness factor was a big reason, too.
But I can’t help but feel a little vindicated. I mean, I saw those little slips in his asshole mask. I knew there was a good guy underneath all that harsh unapproachability. But I never expected him to give me that side of him.
He thinks I’m an enigma, but Warren Knight is a puzzle all on his own.
When I see his fingers fumbling over his cufflinks, I carefully extract myself from his bed and pad over until I’m standing right in front of him. “Here, let me help.”
His dark eyes flick to my face. “I know how to dress myself.”
I grin. “Don’t let your asshole slither out now, Mr. Knight. You were doing so well.”
He makes a noise like a laugh through his nose, but he relents, holding his wrist out to me. I take the cufflink and line up the holes of the cuffs and then struggle my way through trying to fasten the bastard in, but it’s way more difficult than I expected.
“You’re terrible at this,” he says with humor in his voice.
When I look up at his face, there’s a softness to his dark eyes that I’ve never seen before. I like him like this. Relaxed, charming, real.
Somehow, it makes him impossibly more handsome. I can’t wait for him to fall in love and bestow that romantic intensity he’s capable of on someone. She’s going to be one lucky girl.
Dropping my hands, I blow out a breath and give up, because I’m obviously not going to be able to successfully link his cuffs. “Yeah. But to be fair, I did tell you that I was probably a zipper girl. Gimme your zipper, and I’ll handle that thing all day long.”
He lets out a little strangled noise deep in his chest, making me look up at him curiously. His eyes shift from my face as he moves away, finishing his own cufflinks like a pro.
“So, round two,” I begin with a little spring in my step. “Blue said she can get me some other women lined up for more dates. I’m sure I can get one for tonight. How about six o’clock again?” I ask.
If I can get Warren to meet someone he’s interested in, that’s one more point to me in the Veil tally, and I’d also be one step closer to completing my vow to get him to fall in love. I can also set up other people and make Matches for them too, like Blue and Harvey. If I do that, I can return to the Veil, and who knows? Maybe once I’m back, I’ll finally be a proper cupid with properly working powers. Wings crossed.
He freezes, his dark eyebrows pulling together. “I’m not going on another date with a random woman.”
“What?” I frown, feeling all o
f those hopeful thoughts start to sink right out of me. “But I have to make you a Love Match.”
“Why do you care if I fall in love?” he asks incredulously. “That’s a weird fucking thing to say.”
Embarrassed, I look down at my bare feet and lift a shoulder. “It just matters to me.”
His face loses all previous warmth, and his usual hardened mask settles over his features. “Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not someone you can just pimp out for your own amusement, and I’m certainly not interested in falling in love. In fact, that’s the last thing that I want.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. I thought he was just picky or bored, but this? A clear disdain for the best feeling in life? It’s crumpling my cupid heart.
I don’t know why, but I feel my eyes start to sting. “You don’t mean that. Everyone wants to fall in love.”
He shakes his head and takes a step forward to crowd my space, emanating some serious anger that I don’t understand.
What just happened? Why the shift?
I have to lift my chin up to keep looking at him as he looms over me, but despite the fact that he looks like he wants to toss me out his window, I stay right where I am.
“Not me. The only thing I’m interested in is fucking women and then not seeing them again,” he says in full asshole-mode as his expression mimics hard, cold granite.
But you haven’t been interested in fucking them lately, either, I think to myself. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from saying it out loud though, because I don’t want to seem like a total psycho stalker.