The Matchmaker's Replacement [Kindle in Motion] (Wingmen Inc. Book 2)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  So I stomped off, to Lex’s laughter, and swore I’d never let him in again.

  I touched my face as tears streamed down in rapid succession. Ugh, I was a complete and utter failure. I needed to find a guy, one who actually knew how to treat a girl.

  And stop whatever fantasy I had with Lex.

  He wasn’t for me. He would never be for me.

  Over it.

  Damn it.

  My phone rang.

  “Yeah?” I answered as I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

  “Mija!” My dad’s voice was just what I needed to hear. “How is your new job?”

  Visions of me dancing around a pole, then riding Lex, hit me full force as a prickling shame crawled up my arms and settled in the center of my chest. “It’s good, Dad.” My voice cracked. “Really good!”

  “Gabrielle?” He lowered his voice. “Are you alright? Have you been crying?”

  “No, no!” I forced a laugh, and it sounded horrible, like a cross between a hiccup and insanity. “Just so tired, you know?”

  “Okay, well, you take care of yourself, and your mother and I thank you.” He sighed. “Mija, you shouldn’t be giving us more money.” His voice was a combination of relief and stress. I chose to focus on the relief. I was young, I would bounce back from being tired. He wouldn’t.

  “Well, we need to keep the house, so . . .” I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “Besides, I’m getting paid really well.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” My stomach chose that moment to grumble. It was so loud that I was afraid he’d hear it. “I’m fantastic. Gotta go, though!”

  “Okay! Love you, and thank you, mija. Your mother and I are so proud!”

  Uncontrollable sobs escaped me as the phone went dead.

  What was I doing with my life?

  I sniffed back more tears and wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands.

  It was just a bad day. Everyone had them; this was mine.

  At least I had chocolate at home and a bottle of wine, thanks to Spider-Man.

  I pulled into the driveway and quickly let myself into the house.

  Serena hopped off the barstool. “Oh good, you’re home!”

  Why was she so happy about that? She was rarely even there!

  “Yup.” I dropped my purse onto the counter and went in search of my Spider-Man basket.

  “So . . .” Serena followed me through the kitchen. I located the basket and tore into it, only to find all the chocolate gone. “I’m moving out.”

  “Did you eat all my chocolate?”

  “Oops.” She lifted her shoulders into a guilty shrug. “Were you saving it?”

  “YES!” I roared.

  “Yikes. Maybe it’s good we’re breaking up.”

  “Wait, what?” What had I missed?

  “Moving out. Me.” She pointed to her chest. “So yeah, I’ll give you rent for the month, but you’re going to have to find another roommate.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lex

  What crawled up your ass and died?” Ian asked as we parked in front of Gabi’s house for dinner. It had been a week.

  A week of pure hell.

  A week where I had stalked her like the creepy insane person I’d officially become.

  The only time she and I talked was when I sent her more info on Steve or when I needed to check in with her progress. Ian had never filled out progress reports, but since Gabs was new and we needed to know how the program was going with guys, she had to fill out a date sheet every time she went out with Steve.

  So far they’d gone on two dates.

  Both had been fine.

  That’s all I had.

  Because Gabs refused to put anything other than “He was fine.”

  Question 1: How was dinner?

  Fine.

  Question 2: Did the client show any signs of nervousness? If yes, explain how you helped.

  Client was fine.

  I growled as I got out of the car and slammed my door.

  “Seriously?” Ian glanced back at me. “What the hell is your problem? You can’t treat this kind of car that way!”

  I shrugged.

  Ian’s eyes narrowed. “You look like shit, too, just saying.”

  “Thanks, Mom, anything else?” I shoved my hands into my pockets.

  Ian always saw through my bullshit, so I was suddenly thankful he was too in love to pay attention to me or my issues. He’d know immediately what it was, and then I’d be stuck apologizing to him while he tried to saw off my balls with a rusty fork.

  The door to the girls’ apartment opened in a flurry. Gabs was wearing the shortest damn Nike running shorts I’d ever seen. The hell? They sold those in stores? What did she do, shop in the kids’ section and ask for an extra small? The outline of her ass was wreaking havoc on my already alarming attraction to her. I forced my eyes away for maybe three seconds before she turned and moved farther into the house, her tank top flashing smooth skin right next to her hip and a little shimmer of her belly-button ring. Mouth dry, I stared, looked away, stared again. What the hell was she doing answering the door with scraps for clothes? There were serious creepers in the world! Ones that would take advantage of all that . . . skin. I choked on my next breath as the dizzying scent of strawberries smacked me in the face.

  I was already hot.

  Things were about to get hotter.

  She gave Ian a hug.

  I got a fleeting look, and then she turned her back on me.

  It was a great feeling—like being shot at. Not that I’d been shot at, but the pain was physical, real.

  I’d never cared that she treated me like shit, because we had an understanding, a type of game, in which we both hated each other but at the end of the day, if she had a flat tire, I’d fix it.

  If I needed a hug, she’d grudgingly give it, then step on my toe.

  Except for that one time.

  My stomach clenched at the memory.

  “Seriously.” Ian shook his head. “Are you on drugs?”

  “Drugs?” I repeated. “Do I look like the type of dude who wants to drop thousands of dollars on something that only keeps me high for a few hours at a time?”

  “So you’ve thought about it, then?”

  “Yes, Ian, life is so horrible that I sat down at my desk with my calculator and figured out just how much money I would be losing if I took the plunge into addiction.”

  “You did?”

  “Stop, just . . .” I moved past him and made my way into the kitchen. Gabs was leaning against the counter, and her petite little legs looked adorable in the shorts. I tried to look away.

  But since she didn’t know I was staring . . .

  “Lex.” Gabs didn’t turn. “Keep staring, and I’m going to pull one of your balls until it pops.”

  “Oooo.” I rubbed my hands together. “Promise?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Ian brought in the two bags of groceries as per usual when we had family dinner. Blake couldn’t make it because of practice, so it was just us and Serena.

  Speaking of. “Where’s Serena?”

  Gabs turned and glared. “She moved.”

  “To?” I crossed my arms.

  “And she ate my chocolate.”

  “So you kicked her out?” I laughed.

  Gabs didn’t.

  Ian held up his hands. “Tread carefully, my friend. That look would get a lesser man killed.”

  “Good thing I’m not a lesser man, hmm, Gabs?”

  I was pushing, pushing too hard, but I nee
ded the verbal sparring, needed to know I still evoked some sort of emotion from her even if it was all negative.

  She rolled her eyes and started unpacking the groceries. It was spaghetti night. Almost every family dinner was, because it was our favorite. “Her boyfriend’s in a band,” explained Gabs, setting the box of pasta on the countertop. “He’s going to make it big someday—her words, not mine—and she wants to travel with him in his super-cool van to make sure no groupies try to steal his virtue.”

  “Hold up!” Ian busted out laughing. “Are you talking about the skinny emo dude who has green hair? That guy?”

  “His voice is just—” Gabs placed a hand on her heart as her voice took on the high pitch of Serena’s. “He gets me? You know? He gets life!”

  “He has a song about hairspray,” Ian pointed out.

  “And its dangers to the ozone layer.” Gabs grabbed the Italian bread and started slicing it. “Oh yes, I’m aware.”

  She was making me nervous with the knife, so I quickly grabbed it from her hand and pushed her out of the way.

  “Wow, you’re actually helping instead of drinking all the wine?” Gabi’s eyebrows arched as a disbelieving smile crept across her features.

  “I don’t want blood on the bread.” I drew the knife through the loaf. “I do this for all of us. My intentions are purely selfish, I’m starving, and you were cutting the bread like you thought it was . . . me.”

  “Bingo.” Gabs winked.

  At least she winked.

  I shrugged and got back to cutting while Ian’s eyes narrowed in on me and then on Gabs.

  Shit.

  “What’s for dessert?” I piped up. It was always her job to get the dessert if we brought ingredients for dinner. I was still dropping off baskets, and I had specifically added in two boxes of brownie mix. “Brownies?”

  Gab’s mouth fell open, and then she closed it. “I, uh, actually forgot?”

  “That’s okay,” said Ian, letting it go.

  I’d just dropped off the basket that morning. How the hell had she eaten two boxes of brownies?

  “Nothing? Really?” I stopped slicing bread and went over to her pantry, but her tiny body blocked me.

  “What are you doing?” She crossed her arms.

  “Um, what does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Guys!” Ian held up his hands. “We don’t need dessert, no need to start World War Three.”

  “You heard him,” Gabs said.

  “Move.” I glared.

  “No!”

  With a grunt, I picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder, then opened the door as her little fists banged into my back.

  Empty.

  There was nothing in her pantry save for one box of mac and cheese.

  Once the door was open she stopped fighting, slumping against me in surrender.

  The kitchen fell silent.

  What the hell? Pissed, I set her on her feet and carefully gazed at every empty shelf. The pathetic box of mac and cheese didn’t even look new, like the boxes I’d given her.

  “Uh, did Serena also take all your food?” Ian joked, though I could tell he was concerned from the way he hovered near Gabs. I was still too angry to say anything.

  If she was starving, she should be eating what was in my baskets! Was she seriously that prideful? That she’d dump out free food just because she didn’t want a handout?

  With a scowl, I slammed the pantry door.

  Gabs jumped a foot, then glared.

  “You know what, I’m not hungry,” I snapped, my eyes meeting hers, waiting for her admission, anything. But she was silent, crossing her arms again and staring back in challenge. “I’m gonna head out.”

  “I drove,” Ian said.

  “I’ll walk.” I needed to leave before I yelled at her or made her cry. Nothing made sense. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just take the food.

  Once I was outside in the middle of the sidewalk, I paused.

  I’d grabbed a new basket each time.

  Meaning if she was dumping the food, she was tossing the baskets in the trash, and it was Tuesday. Trash came Tuesday night.

  Yesterday’s and today’s baskets would be in the trash.

  I hurried to the back of her house, located her large green trash can, and found my inner raccoon.

  Lifting the lid, I started digging through the black bags.

  Nothing.

  A throat cleared.

  I must have been really into my trash digging, because I didn’t hear a damn thing. How hadn’t I heard the squeaky back door open?

  “Um . . .” Ian scratched his head. “I’m sure you have a great explanation, right?”

  Gabs was standing right behind him.

  I snapped the lid to the trash closed as embarrassment washed over me, making my face heat with the awareness that I’d just been caught digging through my enemy’s trash can like a homeless person.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I do have a good reason.”

  Ian’s eyebrows arched.

  Gabs crossed her arms.

  “But . . .” I took two steps back. “First, I have a question for the liar.”

  “Liar?” Ian repeated.

  “Gabs.” I barked out her name. “You get baskets every day. Baskets full of food. Where the hell are they?”

  Her mouth dropped open and then closed. “I, uh, how do you even know about those?”

  “Serena.” She wasn’t here to deny it, and I highly doubted Gabs would fact-check me.

  “Didn’t know you guys were still . . . cozy,” she accused.

  “Cozy enough.” I fought to keep the smirk from my face. She wasn’t jealous, was she? “Now, about those baskets.”

  Gabs shook her head, then glanced at Ian’s back. Her eyes met mine again, pleading.

  Something clenched in my chest.

  “Actually . . .” I cleared my throat. “Serena did say something about a canned food drive . . . for the homeless.”

  Ian finally turned around and looked at Gabs. “That’s cool, I didn’t know you were doing charity work too. You should have told me. I would have helped.”

  She shifted on her feet before tucking her hair behind her ears and offering a nervous laugh. How he didn’t see through the lie, I had no idea. “Yeah, well, I know you’re busy . . .”

  “Changed my mind.” I made my way up the steps. “I’m starved.”

  “Great!” Ian rubbed his hands together and made his way into the kitchen, while I grabbed hold of Gabs’s hand and tugged her backward, whispering in her ear, “I hope you have a really good reason for that lie I just told.”

  “I didn’t ask you to,” she hissed.

  “Yeah.” My lips grazed her ear, and her body relaxed against mine. “You kind of did.”

  Her head hung.

  “Gabs!” Ian yelled loudly. “Lex!” He ran around the corner just as I released my hold on Gabi’s arm. “Just got a text from Blake. She sprained her ankle and needs help grabbing all her stuff from practice. She’s fine, but I’m going to go hang with her.” He looked back and forth between the two of us. “Promise me that if I leave, both of you will still be alive tomorrow.”

  “Hah.” I held up my hands in innocence. “Us? Fight? No . . .”

  Ian rolled his eyes while Gabs let out a little grunt.

  “At least finish cutting the bread so I know no weapons are present. I don’t want to have to tell the police I left you both with sharp objects.” Ian made his way back into the kitchen.

  Gabs was hot on his tail and shoved him in the back playfully. “Just go! Your girlfriend needs you, and I swear I won’t cut off L
ex’s balls.”

  Ian exhaled in relief.

  “He’d be expecting it, and I like the sneak approach. I’d wait at least until he was sleeping.”

  “You wish.” I pushed her out of the way and grabbed the bottle of wine we’d brought. It was time to drink. Especially if I had to be alone with her. But first I went over to the sink to wash my hands. “Believe me, the only way I’m inviting you into my bed is so I can suffocate you with my pillow.”

  “I’ll just stay.” Ian grabbed a chair.

  “No!” Gabs and I said in unison as I threw my wet hands into the air, causing water droplets to land on his face.

  Ian blinked, then shook his head in dismay.

  I spoke up again. “Ian, go. Swear we’ll be fine.”

  “If you’re sure.” He got up again, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

  “Totally.” Gabs nodded, too emphatically; we weren’t very convincing. Then again, I wouldn’t believe us either; legit hospital visits had happened because of us being in the same room together.

  Ian’s phone went off. “It’s Blake.” His shoulders slumped. “Just”—he held up his hands as a pleading expression overtook his face—“don’t kill each other.”

  Within minutes he was gone.

  When I turned, Gabs had a knife in her hand and a devious smirk on her face.

  “Oh hell,” I muttered. “We need more alcohol.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gabi

  We were actually coexisting in the same space, breathing the same air, and not killing one another. We also weren’t talking, so maybe that was the reason. It was horrifying to realize that the only time we didn’t fight was when we were . . . kissing.

  I let out a groan.

  “Cramps?” Lex piped up. “Because if you want to forgo the whole family-dinner thing, I can leave so you and your tampons can have some personal time.”

  Lex’s eyes were dark, soulless pits of hell. At least that was what I told myself whenever I found him attractive, which recently was every single time we were together.