Page 28 of Cupid Calamity

RORY: Be wary, Bree. Stay in public places and message at the end of the night. And Tabi, fuck off, I’m sleeping. And we are most certainly not siblings of any kind. I’d kill myself.

SABRINA: Thanks, everyone. Promise to check in later.

I place my phone on the bar and turn towards my stranger. “Patrick. I’m Sabrina.” I like the way the K clicks off my tongue. He’s smiling and sipping.

“You look lovely tonight, Sabrina. Dressing for other men suits you.”

I grin as he lifts his martini without spilling a drop. I don’t know how people do that. I’m all tingles, and cupid is slinging arrows all around. He’s gorgeous. Like otherworldly gorgeous, and his eyes look kind. I hope he’s not Dexter or Joe Goldberg. Who sadly are better than the men I usually end up with.

A man at the front door catches my attention. He’s wearing a shiny black suit and a bright-red-striped tie. Oh god. It’s like a fucking candy cane. I snap his picture and send it to the group. I nudge Patrick. He glances over my shoulder as Ricky approaches. He knows I’m wearing a blue dress. Without hesitation, Patrick wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me to standing. I’m in between his legs, and I fit perfectly in his arms. Usually, I’m like the puzzle piece you force-fit just so you can finish that section. The one jammed into the wrong spot.

He smells like cedar and sex. And like a deep, dark forest, I want to get lost in him. Seriously, I hate the outdoors, but with this man, all I can think about is camping and climbing. I grin up at him, and he’s staring at my lips. I can’t believe the attraction between us after like a minute. I’m not usually this girl. I’m not an impromptu gal. I’m a GPS-your-destination-from-home-before-you-get-in-the-car kind of girl.

I hear Ricky saying over and over, “Sabrina. Yo, Sabrina. Is there a Sabrina Faire here?” He’s grabbing any woman in a blue dress. The manager is now involved trying to calm him down, as he whizzes around the restaurant, asking already-seated diners if they’re me. My phone lights up with a text from Ricky, and his head raises at the ding. Patrick scoops up my phone and pretends to read the text, silences my ringer, then tucks my sparkly purple phone in his jacket pocket.

Ricky’s making a scene. And I don’t think Patrick’s arm will stop him from asking who I am. I have a problem. I gesture for Patrick’s ear, and he bends to me.

I whisper, “He’s going to find me. I’m terrible at lying. I should go.” I place my hand on his chest, and I kind of want to leave it there forever. But there’s no way I’m leaving this man’s arms for dinner with Ricky. I’ll just take these ten perfect minutes with me as I sneak out. Patrick turns his head, and our faces are incredibly close. I can see every gorgeous, complicated fleck in his hazel green eyes. He curls his hand around mine.

He smirks and says, “Not unless you’re taking me with you.” Then his lips are on mine. Sure and solid. They’re firm at first, as are mine in surprise, then, as he ends the slight kiss and begins another, our lips yield to each other. They fall into a gentle, playful rhythm of advancing and retreating. There’s a hint of the tip of his tongue as it brushes my lips, then it’s gone. This perfect stranger sweeps me up into a kiss that girls dream about. We stay in this kiss as if it’s been scripted for us, and my hand moves up his chest and over to his shoulder. I never want this to end.

“Excuse me, bartender, I’m looking for Patrick Donovan.”

I open my eyes with my lips still on his. There’s an updo mess in an ochre dress asking about him. No, Melanie, he’s with me. You’re too late. I caught him like a big mouth bass. Christ, again, with an outdoor sport. To be honest, I don’t know what a big mouth bass looks like. I’m hoping it has an attractive mouth.

I kiss him a little more aggressively, and he smiles into it for the briefest of seconds, then the tip of his tongue is wedging my mouth open. His date is behind him. Mine is two chairs to my left. The restaurant is full of noisy diners, but I open my mouth to him to let our tongues play a little. As I open myself to him, everything falls away except the sound of his heartbeat and the smell of the forest.

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PATRICK

I didn’t realize how lonely I was until she tugged on my tie. Valentine’s Day is messing with me. Making me believe this is all more than it is. I explore her mouth until the bartender makes a noise and slides us the tab. I toss my credit card on the bill. She smiles and adjusts herself on her barstool. I take her hand and kiss the top of it.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

“That’s the least of what I think you can do for me tonight.” She grins and it turns my world. Her cheeks blush a bit, and it’s so incredibly sexy.

I stand and help her off the stool. I hold her coat out for her.

“Thank you, Patrick.” She says my name, and I want to hear it often from her lips.

“You’re very welcome, Sabrina.”

The voice is loud next to us, and we realize what we’ve done. She quickly covers her mouth.

“SABRINA? You’re fucking Sabrina? Who the shit is this guy? Who the hell is Patrick? And what’s he doing to my woman?” His voice rises above the din of the bar and cuts through our evening, as Melanie’s head whips in our direction.

“Wait. Are you the Patrick I’m supposed to meet?”

And it’s instinct. This is it after a couple of crap years. I don’t want to explain. I don’t want to apologize. I only want Sabrina. It’s time to get what I want for the first time in my life—her. I want all of her for as long as she’ll have me tonight. I can’t explain it, but I need to possess her laugh, her body, her mind, and her aura. I haven’t dated in a while, hooked up, sure, but dated, no. I thought this blind date might get my voice on the air more often, but something snapped the moment Sabrina pulled on my tie. I lean down into her face. She looks paralyzed and unsure of everything until she looks in my eyes, and the light switches back on for both of us.

I whisper loud enough for only her to hear, “Run.”

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