Their Matchmaker

by Allyson Lindt

  But as annoyed as she was by the way Aaron shut her out, he hadn’t technically done anything wrong. Except maybe lead Nathan on, and she prayed that wasn’t the case.

  She’d call Aaron back first. He was more likely to be up this time on a Sunday, anyway. Her phone rang in her hand, startling her, and an international number flashed on the screen. Emily. Based on how Cynthia left things with Aaron and Nathan, she wasn’t sure she wanted to take the call, but she did want a friendly ear. “Hello?”

  “Ciao, bella.” The words rolled off Emily’s tongue.

  Cynthia smiled. “Nice accent. Not that I’d know, but it sounds authentic to my uncultured ear.”

  “I’ve got a good teacher.” The cheer in Emily’s voice was contagious. “You busy?”

  “Not really. I’m kind of a boring homebody when I’m not working. Same as always.”

  “Boring? Never. Especially not according to Nathan. He says he had a blast, and he’s sorry he didn’t get to tell you goodbye before he left.”

  Cynthia’s gut sank at the name. “It’s not a big deal. I’m glad he had fun.” She tried to put some enthusiasm into her tone but failed.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m just...” Cynthia sighed. Once upon a time, she would have told Emily everything that was going on, no hesitation. Now, it didn’t feel right. Their friendship still felt tentative—As though Cynthia needed to re-earn the right to unburden herself.

  “I’m listening, if you want to talk about it,” Emily said sympathetically.

  “I don’t feel like I deserve that.”

  “So you fucked up. You realized your mistake, you apologized, and we’re good.”

  Defensiveness rolled through Cynthia at all the blame falling on her, but it was appropriate. Still— “This is different. The one thing I don’t think we’re good on yet. I kind of...” She bit the inside of her cheek.

  “You know you’re killing me, don’t you? If you drag this out any longer, it won’t matter what you say; it will be anti-climactic.”

  That would be a relief. Cynthia didn’t like bottling all this. “After you left and I kicked Paul out, I didn’t have anything to focus on but work. I pitched my way through all the VCs in Silicon Valley, and no one nibbled, so I moved to L.A. I told myself the clientele would be better here. More money. More focus on relationships and less on startups.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “But I hit more brick walls. Like an unfortunate crash-test dummy. Even with the last firm I was in, everyone in the room told me no except one guy. Investor number twenty-three.” It was odd to think of Aaron in those terms. He was so much more.

  “Sounds like a lucky number to me.”

  Cynthia’s bitter laugh slipped out. “You’d think. He told me if I proved my product worked, he’d fund me.”

  “So... what was the catch?”

  “Matching him and his boyfriend with a third person.”

  “Ah.” Emily’s tone was impossible to interpret. “Where did things go wrong?”

  Cynthia was surprised Emily didn’t assume the request itself was the start of the downhill slide. In a way, it was. “The system matched me. First time around, only me. They found out. I let things go too far.” That was the bit she hated saying out loud. Especially to Emily.

  “You fucked your investor.”

  Cynthia winced at the flat statement. “And his boyfriend.”

  “After the shit you gave me.”

  “I told you this wasn’t the kind of story you wanted to hear.” Cynthia should have trusted her instinct and kept this to herself. She sank back onto her couch. It didn’t have any answers, but it didn’t judge, either.

  “If I were vindictive, I’d love this story.” Emily’s tone softened. “I’m not. It’s screwing with your head pretty bad?”

  “Exactly. They’re dysfunctional. I got attached...” Cynthia wanted to add more, but that summed it up nicely.

  “You did? You’re the queen of not getting attached.”

  It was true. Cynthia’d had more than her share of one-night stands and bar hookups, and none of them chipped her surface. Why did this one get under her skin? “I did this time. I swore to myself I was fine—”

  “But sometimes you can’t help it.”

  “Exactly.” The topic sucked, but it was nice to talk to Emily like this again. Cynthia missed this closeness.

  “If I were there, I’d bring you ice cream and wine,” Emily said.

  Cynthia smiled, and righted herself. “It’s not the same, being alone.”

  “I wouldn’t think so. It sounds kind of pathetic,” Emily teased.

  Cynthia laughed. “Thanks,” she said sarcastically. She might not spend the night wallowing, but she would treat herself. She wandered into the kitchen and grabbed the ice cream from the freezer. She snagged a spoon and pushed herself onto the counter, the ice cream next to her and the phone balanced between her shoulder and ear.

  “It can work, you know,” Emily said.

  “What can?”

  “All three of you.”

  Cynthia stopped with the spoon halfway to her mouth. The possibility surged inside with hope, and she squashed it. That was about the worst place her mind could go. That path was littered with desire and want, and her heart in shattered fragments. Or she was being a tad melodramatic. “You don’t know that.”

  “I’ll admit it’s not for everyone, but I do know it can work. Did Nathan tell you how he and I know each other?”

  Curiosity swelling, Cynthia pushed her ice cream aside and searched her brain for what he’d said. “Something about being friends with your sister-in-law, but that she wasn’t really but might as well have been. Does he always talk that fast?”

  “Only on his best days. I won’t make you jump through hoops for this. I’m in a relationship—a wonderful and amazing one—with two guys who love each other as much as they do me, and me them. It can work.”

  Cynthia’s mind tilted off balance, making her dizzy, as she tried to process the news. “What? You don’t just dump information like that on someone. You’re... Really?”

  “Take your time.”

  “I’m glad it’s working for you.” Cynthia wasn’t going to knock the relationship. Six months ago, she though happily ever after was fairytale bullshit. When she met Gavin and Aaron, she started to adjust her way of thinking. Watching them fall apart hurt more than was logical.

  If Emily was happy with two guys, more power to her. That didn’t mean Cynthia could afford to give any attention to the hope growing inside. “These two are so dysfunctional,” Cynthia said, “and broken and... they’re so good together when they’re not. I can’t be a part of that.”

  “Do what’s best for you. For real.” Emily was kind. “If this is breaking your heart—and I can hear in your voice that it is—and you don’t think they’re good for you, walk away. But don’t write them off because it’s non-traditional.”

  “That wouldn’t be in my top five reasons.” Though the whole dysfunctional thing would rank near the top. Getting all of that out there, as much as the memories ached, lifted a weight from Cynthia’s chest. “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do much.”

  “You listened. It’s more than I deserve.”

  “Stop beating yourself up.” A sharp edge lined Emily’s words. “You learned. From what happened between you and me, and from what’s going on now. You don’t deserve to be shit on because you made a mistake.”

  The words sank deep into Cynthia’s bones, triggering something she wasn’t willing to acknowledge yet. Doing so would mean surrendering her anger at Gavin, and she wasn’t ready.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  AARON APPROACHED THE front desk in the rehab clinic, and a sliver of smugness whispered through him. The guy working the counter was the same person who’d been there last time Aaron visited, trying to talk to Gavin.

  The flash of recognition when the employee looked up said he probably remembered. “
May I help you?”

  “Aaron Birch. I’m here to see Gavin Jackson.”

  “Of course.” The guy still never checked his computer. “Come right back. He’s waiting.”

  Aaron swallowed the damn straight that wanted to be heard. “Thank you.”

  They traveled down a long hallway, and Aaron was pointed toward a room with an open door. Beyond recognizing it was an office, he didn’t care about anything in the room except Gavin.

  Aaron closed the distance between them in a few short strides, rested his palms on Gavin’s face, and kissed him.

  When Gavin pressed into him and kissed back, a weight lifted from Aaron that had settled in so long ago, he’d forgotten it was there.

  A soft cough interrupted the moment, and Aaron broke away with a gasp.

  A woman sat a few feet away, watching them, a half-smile threatening to crack her otherwise blank face.

  Gavin laughed—God, Aaron missed that sound—and nodded at her. “Aaron, this is my shrink, Dr. Sandy Hyde. Dr. Hyde, this is the love of my life.”

  She rose and extended her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Same.” Aaron shook her hand, then looked back at Gavin. “I’m sure she’s a wonderful doctor, but can we catch up without an audience?”

  “I’m not here to judge; I’m only a facilitator.” Dr. Hyde said.

  “Is facilitating code for feeding Gavin his lines?” Aaron winced as the passive-aggressive question passed his lips. “I apologize.”

  “Are you sorry?” she asked.

  “Of course I am.” Aaron stared at her, as Gavin tugged him to sit.

  “Then why did you say it?”

  “It slipped out.” Aaron didn’t like being put on the defensive, especially at the start of a conversation. Gavin put up with this? “Sometimes that happens. I’m not the one who’s here to be psychoanalyzed, but I am owed an apology.”

  “All right.” She nodded.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Aaron’s elation at seeing Gavin again faded behind the odd confrontation. He was overreacting and letting himself be baited, but it was weeks since he talked to Gavin, and now they had to go through a translator? “No, wait. Don’t ask me what I think it means.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it. What would you like an apology for?”

  “Gavin knows.”

  “But I’d like to hear your version,” Dr. Hyde said.

  “It’s okay,” Gavin squeezed Aaron’s hand. “Aaron’s right. I owe him an apology. For blaming my problems on him. For not listening. For running away instead of facing realty. For turning to someone else for comfort when I had an incredible man by my side.”

  Guilt and the name Nathan wormed their way through Aaron’s thoughts. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to convince himself that night was okay, since nothing happened, the regret still gnawed his senses. He forced the thoughts aside and clung to indignation. “See?”

  “This is where you say, It’s all right; I forgive you,” Gavin teased.

  “Except that’s what I’ve always done, and if it were all right, we wouldn’t be here.”

  Gavin’s smile slipped. “I know. I don’t expect it to be that easy, but I’m willing to make the effort to get us there.”

  That was the first time Aaron had heard Gavin phrase it that way. In the past it was always, It’ll never happen again. I promise, but there was no substance to the words. Nothing to back them up. Maybe the new language was thanks to Dr. Hyde, but Gavin sounded sincere. He believed what he was saying, which made Aaron do the same.

  “Me too.” Aaron looked at the doctor. “What happens next?”

  “What do you want to happen next?” she asked.

  Aaron twisted his mouth in frustration. “That’s not helpful.”

  “It’s more useful than you think.” Gavin chuckled. “And she does a lot of it. I’m not done in here. I need more time to sort through things, but my hope is you’ll stick with me while I do.”

  Aaron’s reassurance died in his throat as he remembered Nathan again. Could he make a promise like that given what he’d already done?

  Gavin’s laugh was more nervous this time. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “I’m here for you.” Aaron meant that. “If you’re trying, I’ll stick by your side.”

  “But?”

  “You’re not the only one at fault.” If they were owning up to things, Aaron needed to take responsibility too. “I’ve made my share of bad decisions. Taking a job I hated, and then resenting you for not making the same mistake. Thinking the best way to fix us was to keep our relationship open. Friday night...”

  Gavin furrowed his brow. “What happened Friday night?”

  “I got drunk. I brought a guy home and almost fucked him... It doesn’t sound that bad out loud, but up until we walked in the door, I wanted him to stay.”

  Gavin’s expression relaxed. “But you didn’t do anything. I made a play for your business partner and pissed her off.”

  Cynthia. Jealousy surged in. Aaron didn’t have a right to feel that, though. Not about her.

  “My bad, number five-hundred and ninety-three.” Gavin shrugged. “I’ll apologize to her if she’ll let me, but she’s not the kind of person who will let that impact her working relationship with you.”

  That hadn’t been Aaron’s first concern, though it should be. “Thanks. So I guess we’re both willing to work on this?”

  Gavin nodded.

  “Are you willing to join Gavin for therapy once or twice a week?” Dr. Hyde asked.

  “Yes,” Aaron said. He’d put up with a mediator for a few hours a week, if it meant he and Gavin got their life back.

  Schedules were set, and Dr. Hyde called the session to a close, so she could meet with her next appointment.

  Aaron tangled his fingers with Gavin’s as they left. “Do I get the grand tour?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.” Gavin led him through the halls.

  The place could have been any mid-range hotel. Even the guests reminded Aaron of weary business travelers, trudging through their day and trying not to let life crush them.

  Except here, there was an underlying thread of hope that getting out from under that weight was possible. The thought almost made him smile.

  They stopped in front of a door, and Gavin opened it. He gestured inside. “We’ll start with my humble dwellings.”

  From the full-size bed to the polished-but-generic dresser, a TV on top, the room matched the rest of the place—it would fit in any generic motel.

  Gavin tugged him inside, kicked the door shut, and—palms to Aaron’s—pinned his hands to the wall on either side of his head. Gavin dragged his mouth along Aaron’s jaw and down his neck, alternating between sucking and licking. Being pressed so close, Gavin’s heat surrounding him, and that familiar scent made Aaron instantly hard.

  “I’ve been thinking...” Gavin said between kisses.

  “About how much you missed this? Because that’s all I’m thinking about right now.”

  Gavin pulled back long enough to give him a smirk, before yanking Aaron’s shirt over his head. “Definitely missed this. Which led to the next thought.”

  “I’d make another guess, but if you get to the point, we can lose the rest of our clothes, right?” Aaron didn’t have the mental capacity for conversation when Gavin was nipping along his chest.

  “Exactly.” Gavin paused, straightened, and met his gaze. “Give me your attention for thirty seconds, then fucking.”

  “Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes but kept smiling. “I’ve been thinking that, as fun as it is to sometimes share a third person, and while the idea of an open relationship sounds all carefree, I want you to myself for a while. I’m not ruling anything out in the future, but—”

  “I agree. Just you and me.” What about Cyn? Aaron silenced the thought before it could take root. This was perfect. Aaron kissed him, diving his tongue into Gavin’s mouth and pres
sing close for all he was worth. The way his heart soared and excitement sparked over his skin at Gavin’s touch was addictive. Aaron felt the same electricity now as when they were seventeen and exploring this for the first time.

  Aaron dragged his fingers along Gavin’s chest, tracing the familiar and enticing lines of definition on his way down. He reached the bottom and yanked Gavin’s shirt off. The feeling of bare skin on bare skin sent desire racing over him. He fell back into the kiss. Flattened between Gavin and the door, he couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be.

  He dropped his hand and stroked Gavin’s erection through his jeans.

  Gavin bucked against his touch, then leaned into him with a groan. “I can do better than that.” Gavin’s hot breath fell across Aaron’s cheek.

  “It’s not a contest.” Aaron’s laugh faded into a groan when Gavin kissed down his chest, unbuckling Aaron’s belt at the same time.

  Gavin knelt and unzipped Aaron’s jeans, teasing his cock through the boxer briefs. Aaron groaned at the light scrape of teeth over fabric. Gavin freed him, and when he wrapped his hot palm around Aaron’s shaft, Aaron jerked against his hand.

  Gavin stroked Aaron’s cock, slowly at first and building to an intense pace. Voices traveled through the door as people passed the room, and though no one was going to burst in without knocking, Aaron felt like they were getting away with something wicked. He bucked his hips in time with Gavin’s pumping, and his breath came in short bursts.

  The sensation pulled him in, but didn’t push him to climax. He hovered near climax, head swimming and stars dancing at the edge of his vision.

  Gavin took him in his mouth, and Aaron almost came when he hit the back of Gavin’s throat. He knotted his fingers in Gavin’s hair, needing something to hold onto.

  His legs wobbled, and his thoughts fluttered away. The only thing in his head was the array of touches racing over him—Gavin’s tongue on his hyper sensitive skin, while he caressed his sac.

  As orgasm built inside, then burst forward, every muscle in Aaron’s body tensed before he relaxed. He spurted in Gavin’s mouth, hips grinding until he was spent.