redeeming cupid 01 - struck by eros (17 page)

What did I want to do? Besides let the tears that tickled my eyes escape. Len was destined to be with Lauren, and I was destined to spend my days with a man who would end up hurting me. “You need to hide.” That was the only thing I could think to say. “Just hide, and I’ll figure this out.”

“Hiding me is not going to fix this mess.”

“If Len sees you, CSI will be the only ones able to match all the body parts left after he explodes.” I gave him a shove. “We don’t have time to argue, they’re getting closer.”

Grayson ran his hand through his hair and held his tongue, even though I know he wanted to say more. “Fine. I’ll be around the corner. Watching.” He walked away, and I freed the breath I’d been holding.

Len moved closer, his head buried in his phone. Lauren approached from the other side. The choice was mine, a last minute Hail Mary to let my heart go and do the right thing, or keep being Noel, selfish and self-involved.

Selfish and self-involved fit like a well-worn glove. Doing the right thing was like trying to turn a crack whore into a debutante.

Len looked up and heaven above must have illuminated my engagement ring in a spotlight of golden rays, because his gaze settled on the diamond on my finger.

His face lit up in a brilliant smile reserved for someone who wasn’t about to get his heart crushed. He rushed over and lifted my hand, similar to how Grayson had earlier. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

Cupid had a way of turning an ordinary day into a heaping pile of donkey dung.

My gaze wandered to Lauren, who walked up to one of the vending machines and fed money into the slot. The machine whirled for a moment before the dollar came sliding back out. I had only seen her on two occasions, but both times she looked perfectly put together. Today must be an off day. Her designer duds were in disarray and she needed to spend some quality time in a salon.

Len didn’t look any better. His hair hung in his eyes and he wore the same clothes as last night. Were these the consequences of missed opportunities to be with your perfect match? Not just the deterioration of their souls, but of their complete being? Len needed Lauren and Lauren needed Len. I’d worry about who I needed after we connected our forlorn lovers.

A resigned sigh left my lips and I wondered if Grayson watched me from the sidelines
. Time to bathe the crack whore.

“I don’t know what it means. When I put it on this morning things seemed so clear, but now...”

I glanced back at Lauren. Watched her reach into her purse, pull out a perfectly crisp dollar bill, and feed it into the slot. The machine spit it out. She ran her hands through her hair and checked her watch before diving back into her purse.

“Now things are foggy…” My voice faded along with my hope.

Len put his hand on my shoulder. “Then why are you here?”

Students filed in and out, armed with knowledge, their backpacks stuffed with books, ready for today’s lesson. “I think I’m here to learn a lesson.”

“You’re not making sense.” His fingers squeezed my shoulder.

The rest of Len’s reply was interrupted by the sound of a high heel connecting with the plastic front of the vending machine and some un-civilized words leaving Lauren’s lipstick-covered mouth. “Darn it. Why won’t this piece of crap take my money?” She kicked it even harder, denting the front.

I had to admire her restraint. My language would have been a lot more colorful, and the machine would have been tipped over on its side by this point. All eyes were focused on the ruckus, but Len hadn’t even noticed. The old Len—before Cupid, bobbing arrows, and missed opportunities to meet his match—would have rushed to her aid, done the gentlemanly thing, and offered assistance.

The new Len, the hard, tough Len, didn’t even glance her way. He was one thousand percent focused on me, to the point of obsession. Almost as if Cupid shot him with Apollo’s golden arrow of lust.

Lauren kicked the machine again then thrust her hands up in the air. After a few moments she leaned her head against the uncooperative hunk of junk. “This has been the worst day ever.”

Grayson emerged from his hiding spot around the corner, dollar bill in his hand. He spared a moment to glance my way before approaching Lauren. “Here, let me help.”

She stepped aside and Grayson fed the bill into the machine, it slid in without a problem. “What would you like?” he asked.

“Red licorice, please.” She let out a sigh when the machine whirled and spit out her snack. Grayson handed her the treat. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” She scrunched her eyes, taking a good look.

“I bumped into you at the bank.”

“That’s right.” She held up her prize. “Well, thank you for coming to my rescue.” She moved on to the soda machine.

Len may not have noticed his soul mate, but he sure didn’t miss Grayson and his act of chivalry.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Len’s face approached eggplant purple, and he grabbed my arm and backed me into the wall.

I didn’t offer any excuses or explanations. What was the point?

Grayson stepped behind Len and grabbed his shoulder. “Let her go.” His eyes were two blocks of ice as he looked at Len.

Len shook his arm off. “She’s not yours.” He turned from me, and I scrambled away from the brick. “She belongs with me. Just because the two of you have had sex, doesn’t give you any claim on her.”

Grayson shook his head and sighed. “Right now…” He turned those cold blue eyes on me and let them settle there. “I’d be happy to be free from her, from you, from this whole mess, but some cosmic joke has declared that Noel and I belong together.”

“Belong together?” His shouted words echoed through the vestibule. “You’ve known her what…four weeks? I’ve been with her for two years.” His eyes blazed like I was matador with a red cape and he was the prize bull. “You know what, you can have her.” He turned his back on me and walked away.

Len left me standing there, the hurt evident in the slouch of his shoulders, the hanging of his head, but the worst thing about Len walking away…he’d left without Lauren once again.

I turned toward the soda machine hoping that I could still turn this day around, fix the mess that I had caused, heal Len’s heart, but Lauren had turned into Houdini and poofed.

“Where’s Lauren?” I asked Grayson who had gone back to his ignore-Noel pose. I wonder how long it had taken him to perfect his?

“Looks like she left to find a less drama-filled place to enjoy her snack.”

I watched Len move farther through the crowd. “We’ve got to fix this mess.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“You go find Lauren, and I’ll stop Len.” I pushed past Grayson before he could say a word, and rushed after Len, yelling like a crazy loon through campus.

“Len.” He ignored me and kept moving. “Len.” I pushed past the students, the teachers, the onlookers. Not caring who I plowed into, just knowing I couldn’t let Len go another day without being connected to Lauren. I caught up to him and placed my hand on his shoulder. He stopped, but didn’t turn. “Len, please, just hear me out.”

He stopped in front of a magazine kiosk, a small building made out of particleboard, and held together by a few nails, and faced me. At the moment, I wished he hadn’t. That I hadn’t seen the hurt in his eyes that almost brought me to my knees.

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” He stepped forward invading my personal space, chest hitting mine, forcing me to back away from him. “I don’t want to hear from you, talk to you, or see you ever again.” He stepped even closer, forcing me into a rack of magazines.

He moved closer, I looked behind me, but there was no way to avoid the collision.

I backed into the kiosk until the makeshift shelter groaned, creaked, and then wobbled like a Weeble, but this Weeble fell straight to the ground. Magazines hit the dirty concrete, splayed out across the student commons.
Time. People. Vogue. Playboy.
All over. Two hundred now-damaged magazines surrounded me.

A small man of Asian descent ran up, hand waving over his head, yelling. “What you do? What you do?” He bent down and picked up a battered copy of
Sports Illustrated
and shook it in my direction. “You make a mess of my inventory.”

“I’m so sorry.” I stepped gingerly over the paper-covered ground, trying to avoid doing any further damage. “Of course we’ll help clean up.” I looked to Len for confirmation, but he turned on his scuffed loafers and abandoned me in the middle of the mess.

I picked up a couple of magazines, looking at what would take me hours to go through and sort, then up at the irate man. “You pay for damages, too.” He huffed in his broken English and settled himself at a table in the shade to supervise my progress.

Tears blinded my eyes, my hands shook, and I lowered myself into the center of the mess. Shoes scuffed on the pavement, and my heart filled with hope. Had Len come back? But the toes of polished, black dress shoes appeared next to me, then Grayson knelt down and took the magazine from my hand. “Let me help you.” He picked up the ones closest to us.

“You don’t have to.”

“No I don’t.” He picked up an unsalvageable copy of
Vogue
and placed it off to the side. “But what kind of man would I be if I left you to do this alone?”

You’d be Len.
“Why would you want to help me?” I wiped tears off my cheek.

Grayson reached out and swiped his finger over my upper lip, removing more tears. “Because even though you drive me to the point of insanity every moment I’m with you, I’m not going to run away when things get tough. Hell, if that was the case, I would have left you the moment you opened your mouth.”

A small laugh escaped my lips. I didn’t answer him because his small act of kindness had stolen my words. The man who I treated like shit, talked to like he was nothing more than an annoyance, and made every moment of our time together miserable, gave up his time to help me. The man who I had loved, who I changed my life for, walked away and left me in my time of need. At that moment Grayson Adler had moved up on my list of people I respected.

That didn’t mean I was changing my stance on wanting a Grayson-free-existence, but from this point forward I needed to focus on being less harsh.

Even with Grayson’s help, it took an hour to sort through the magazines. One pile for those that weren’t damaged, and another for those that were a lost cause. The lost cause pile grew at an alarming rate. I stared at it knowing I was going to have to cover the cost. We stood up from the piles and fixed the toppled building. Once the structure was upright, the owner came over.

He looked at the pile of ruined magazines and held out his palm. “You owe me money.”

Grayson reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He produced three one hundred dollar bills and held them out. “This should cover your losses.”

I pushed his hand away before the man could take his money. “I can’t let you do that. This whole thing is my fault, I deserve to pay.” I didn’t know how I was going to pay, but I’d figure that out later.

He shoved the money into the guy’s palm, grabbed my arm, and dragged me away.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Yes, you will. But I don’t want your money.” He smiled and chucked me under the chin. “Just give me your heart, body, and soul, and we’ll call it even.” His gentle teasing helped loosen the tension building behind my eyes.

“You already get my body, and I’m not sure my heart and soul are worth the three hundred dollars you just paid.”

Grayson stopped, stepped in front of me, and placed his hands on my upper arms. “You’re worth more than a measly three hundred dollars.” There was tenderness to his words, a softness that melted my iceberg heart.

He walked me to Doris and I climbed behind the wheel. Grayson leaned against the edge of the driver’s door. I didn’t have anything left to say. Len had left. Grayson had saved the day. And I felt confused about the multitude of feelings churning their way through my body. Hurt and anger and embarrassment, all topped off with a heavy dose of confusion.

I turned the key.

Pain shot through my head, sharp, fast, incapacitating. Pressure built behind my eyes, bile backed up my throat, making it impossible to breathe. My head flopped and hit the steering wheel. Cupid’s punishment shook my core, like a shock collar, and he held the remote.

With one hand on each side of my head, I squeezed, hoping to alleviate the pain. “Shit.” My teeth so tightly clenched I was going to need to see a dentist the next day.

“Are you okay?” Grayson laid his hand on my forehead, and the pain faded. I moaned at the absence of agony. “You’re burning up. Let’s get you home.”

He opened the driver’s side door and lifted me out of the car, carrying me to the passenger seat. He slid behind the wheel, and placed his hand over mine.

When we got to my house, Grayson did the chivalrous thing again and carried me in, up the stairs, and placed me on my bed. After settling me in, he rolled up the sleeves of his navy blue dress shirt and disappeared into the bathroom. A few moments later the water started, and then he came back in.

“We need to get your fever down. Are you undressing yourself?” He sounded hopeful my answer would be no.

“Yes.” I sat up and grabbed the edge of my shirt, but the pain rose to unbearable, and I fell back on the bed.

Grayson came over to assist, sliding my skirt over my hips and letting it fall to the floor, then removing my blouse. He reached for my undergarments, but I stopped his hand. “Leave them on, please.”

He did as I asked and picked me up. The physical contact raised my slut-o-meter to horny-as-hell, but the pain made it possible to ignore those urges. He carried me into the bathroom where my claw-footed tub waited, half full, and lowered me into the water. Grayson pulled the chair to my dressing table up next to the tub, took one of the washcloths off the sink, and then sat next to me.

He dipped the cloth into the water, rung it out, and put it on my forehead. Then he started rubbing my shoulders, sending waves of relief mixed with bits of pleasure crashing through my body. “I don’t want to have sex.”