Play Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) by Amber Scott Page B

pinch she needed. He was real. It was
real. Now, all she had to do was get the nerve to call him.
     
     

Chapter Nine
     
    Kiki had had cupboards bigger than this
place. All five windows of Millie’s two bedroom furnished apartment
stood open. She slid the glass door wider to the sorry excuse for a
balcony. How did people live like this? Even with it all opened,
the walls were closing in on her. Centimeter by centimeter. The
melting snow saturated every sound. Wet dripping. Wet leaves on
trees. Incessant chirping from happy little flipping birds. It all
made her teeth grind.
    The front door lock clucked open.
    “Oh, thank Jesus you’re back,” she said to AJ
before the door hit closed behind him. “I have never been so happy
to see your face.”
    “Thanks. I think.” He set a large box down by
his bedroom door, the vault, she’d come to call it. He gestured at
the windows. “What’s going on?”
    “I’m getting a little whiggety.” She wasn’t
sure how much to tell him. Or how to start.
    “About?”
    If she didn’t stop chewing her nails, they’d
bleed. “I think I’ve screwed myself.”
    “Alright.” He came around the faux tweed
sofa. “How?”
    She couldn’t be sure he was taking her
seriously. He looked like it. Though his movements were a little on
the give-the-patient-another-tranquilizer side, he wasn’t laughing.
Yet.
    “Brooke might be bent over a desk, getting
nailed by a strapping young history scholar, as we speak.”
    His lips curved. “And this is a bad
thing?”
    “Yes.” Millie sucked on a fingertip. Yep,
blood. “You see, when I said the other night that I had a
plan?”
    “The foolproof one? The no chemistry lessons
required one?”
    Ouch. “That one. Well, it appears I’m an
idiot, again. Either that or the unluckiest cupid to ever get stuck
in this—.”
    “Alright. Slow down.” AJ put up placating
hands. “I need specifics if you want me to understand. I assume you
do because it’s the only way I can help. You do want my help, don’t
you?”
    Yes. No. “When we broke into Brooke’s and I
found that picture, and after seeing Jason’s file—thank you, by the
way, for getting it—I decided he was my best option.”
    “Right. So. Is the ex-husband still the best
option?”
    Millie shook her head.
    “I see. I suppose that helps explain why you
insisted you didn’t need any of my—what was the word you used
again?”
    Playing dumb. Couldn’t make this easy on her,
could he? “Mojo training and I didn’t think I would need
any. I thought them having a past would be enough.” She thought she
needed to be big girl. Besides, she didn’t always think straight
around him. “You’d already done enough with the reservation.”
    “I hate to point out the obvious again but,
if it were meant to be, wouldn’t they still be married?”
    “Not necessarily. Something else could have
come between them. Family. Finances.” Who knew? She wasn’t about to
argue the point now, though. “In any case, I’m positive my plan
would have worked. Perfectly, too, but this guy popped into the
picture and mucked everything all up.”
    AJ’s smile fell. He plopped onto the sofa.
“Are you saying you picked the wrong guy?”
    Millie pressed her lips together. “No, I’m
definitely not saying that.” Elliott was not love stuff. “I’m
saying someone showed up on the scene and screwed up my strategy. I
know, maybe this is a test. You know, the angels throwing me a
curve, make me work to keep you kind of thing?”
    He shrugged. “Why make you work for something
you don’t even need? I know you hate hearing this, but we could be
a team. They put us together for a reason.”
    Yeah. To make the sentence harder. But, leave
it to AJ to point out the obvious. What did he expect from her?
Depend on him so much that when she failed yet again, when they
took her, her withdrawals from him were that much worse? Not just a
few shakes but all out cramps and nausea?
    “Look. I’m just