Can't Fix Cupid

“It’s an adjustment, but we definitely have the space. You’ll see.”

I glance up at the loft dubiously. “We’re all gonna fit up there?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. Our beds are up there, plus our workstation. Your bed is right here.”

I watch as she walks over to the purple loveseat, presses some fancy button on the wall behind it, and the whole thing starts moving. The cushions slide out and flatten until it’s changed into a bed. Despite it being small, it looks plush and soft.

“Whoa. That’s cool.”

Blue nods proudly. “Yep. I designed this bad boy myself. I even slept on it a few times to test it out. It’s nice. You can adjust the angle or make the cushions heat up by pressing these buttons here,” she says, pointing them out. “It even vibrates,” she adds with a waggle of her brows.

“Wow.” As someone who’s watched thousands of ladies enjoy certain vibrations, I gotta say, I’m intrigued.

“Alright, feel free to get yourself cleaned up and have a nap. There are towels in the bathroom cubby, but there’s only enough hot water for a five minute shower, so you gotta be quick. Oh, and if you want to take a nap after, there’s some earplugs in the kitchen drawer. We tend to be loud workers.”

Bea nods in agreement. “We can only work with rock music playing. It’s necessary for our creative process.”

“Don’t mind me,” I tell them. “I won’t interrupt.”

A nap sounds amazing since I’m feeling exhausted, but I suddenly remember my badass exit from Warren Knight’s office, and I cringe. Why did I have to go full-badass and act like I had a date lined up for him tonight? I should’ve gone half-badass and just flipped him off on my way out the door like a smart person.

“Dammit,” I say, groaning at myself.

“Already wanna leave, huh?” Blue asks.

I quickly shake my head. “No, it’s not that…”

She pops her hip to the side. “Then why’d your face just stretch through the floor?”

I frown, confused.

Bea intervenes. “She means why the long face.”

“Oh, umm. I sort of have this bet going on? With myself. But it also involves this guy…”

“Ooooh, this is already getting good,” Blue says excitedly.

Bea shakes her head. “Nope, I’m out. I prefer the pink clam to purple snakes.”

She turns and walks away, heading up the rungs of the ladder, butt cheeks on display. “Make yourself at home, Trix,” she tells me before disappearing up into the loft.

“Hungry?” Blue asks as she turns and motions for me to follow her into the kitchen.

I press a hand to my stomach. “Yeah, I think I might be starving, actually.”

She nods like that’s a perfectly acceptable answer.

She pulls out a skinny bar stool for me from under the counter which was hidden underneath. I slide onto the cushioned seat and try not to think of all the naked asses that have sat here before me. I watch while she gets into the mini fridge and starts pulling out things to make sandwiches.

“Alright, let’s hear about this jack-off. What is he, a cheater?”

I shake my head. “No. At least not that I know of.”

She starts chopping tomatoes and lettuce and places them on the nutty bread. “Then why did you dump him?” she asks before stuffing a cheese wedge in her mouth and spreading mayo onto the bread.

“I didn’t dump him. I wasn’t even dating him. I’m his cup—matchmaker. It’s my goal to get him to fall in love.”

Blue snorts at