Free redeeming cupid 01 - struck by eros by jenn windrow Page B

to work.”
    “So, you’re planning on being here all night?”
    “Is that an invitation?” He continued to tap the beat of the song on his leg.
    The tequila-induced fog floating over my brain made it impossible to trade smart-ass remarks with Grayson. “Just go.” I added as much heat to my words as my rolling stomach would allow.
    He didn’t move, so I turned my back on him, tucking the blanket around my shoulders, and snuggled in for the evening. The door didn’t shut, which meant he hadn’t taken the hint. I turned back, and Grayson stood behind me, watching me, something close to concern in his eyes.
    And even though I was madder than Hades in heaven at Grayson, the fact that he came back and checked on me, doused a bit of that anger, taking it from a five-alarm fire to flames a backyard hose could extinguish.
    But I wanted to be alone, to wallow like a pig in shit.
    “I’m fine.” I stood up, proving I was semi-stable on my feet. “And you’re the last person I want helping me nurse my broken heart.”
    Grayson smoothed out the creases in his charcoal grey dress pants, walked to the front door, and yelled, “Make sure you show tomorrow, I’m not getting punished because you’re nursing a broken heart.” Then left me lying in my own puke…literally.
    “You deserve any punishment you get…indecent exposure to begin with,” I called out to get the last word.
    The door slammed. And for the first time in two years I felt alone in my own home. Len wasn’t there to share popcorn or a silly movie or a private joke or a quick cuddle. His drawers’ upstairs were as empty as my heart.
    One day, when the world stopped spinning and I wasn’t face down in a bucket of puke I was finding a loophole.
     

Seven
    My Traitorous Who-Ha Wins Again
     
    My 10:13 ding-a-ling rang out through the lonely room, the very fitting lyrics of Cupid’s ringtone blasting through the speakers. If the boss from hell thought I was working today, he could kiss my arrow-struck behind.
    I picked up my phone, refusing to even glance at the screen, turned it to vibrate, and tossed it back on the nightstand. Silencing Cupid. Even if it was for only one lousy day.
    The mid-morning rays peeked through the cracks from the drapes, and brought on a whole slew of emotions that last night’s liquor-induced binge momentarily suppressed. I pulled the comforter over my head, lingering musky cologne clung to the fabric. The smell reminded me that Len’s side of the bed was cold and empty. Tears I had fought against all night rolled down my cheek. Hot, salty, blinding.
    I didn’t want to do Cupid’s bidding anymore. I didn’t want to sleep with Grayson anymore. I didn’t want to feel angry or empty or helpless anymore.
    I just wanted to live my life the way I wanted, with who I wanted. “Is that too much to ask?” I spoke in the general vicinity of Cupid’s cloud-covered castle.
    As if to answer my question with a snarky response, my phone vibrated and rang out at the same time, skittering across the nightstand, moving closer to the edge. Cupid had found a way past the vibrate mode. Great. I grabbed it before it hit the floor and shoved it under my pillow, wrapped myself into a ball, tucked my knees into my over-sized T-shirt, and closed my eyes.
    My phone rang again.
    I tossed it into the nightstand drawer.
    It rang again.
    “Arg.” I mimicked a frustrated pirate, opened the drawer, and yanked the offending hunk of technology out. Escaping the sheets tangled around my legs, I got out of bed. Using the furniture and walls to keep me from going ass over teakettle, I walked into the bathroom, held my phone over the toilet, but decided against sending it to a watery grave, and threw it into the sink instead.
    Back in bed I cuddled up and started to drift off.
    The Cupid-possessed phone rang again. Louder, more urgent.
    “Fucking ridiculous.” Pushing my covers off, I grabbed my battered bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. “I’m taking a sick