She’s a shy researcher obsessed with muscles. She even has a muscle car. He’s the bad boy rock star of the architectural world, perfectly content with his bachelor status, but his tattoo artist sister has other ideas, and when she decides to play matchmaker, sparks fly.
Him… Danny was in love. Again. So, she thought everyone else, meaning me, should be, too. What she didn’t appreciate was that I was already living my dream: no drama, no mess. My life was just the way I wanted it; orderly. I liked my shit organized. I lived alone just so I could have things my way. If I wanted company, I’d go to the corner bar.
“And what’s so special about this particular hottie? She’s a hottie, right? Danny?”
“Well… She’s hot in an understated sort of way. She’s quietly hot.”
Shit. She probably had a great personality too.
Her… I hated parties. Crowds always left me slightly off balance and inevitably, I drew the attention of creepiest, most annoying guy there. Once caught, I could never shake them. By the end of the night I’d be nauseous, my head hurt, and I was a nervous wreck. But Danny wouldn’t take no for an answer, or as she put it, giving me her best death stare. “You might as well give in gracefully chica, because I’m not to be denied.” I gave in gracefully.
I was already backed as far as I could go without falling into the bushes. “Please leave me alone.” I hated how weak I sounded, but I couldn’t help it. I never knew what to do when guys like this cornered me, so I froze. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I cringed when he brushed a nonexistent hair from my cheek. Ew…
“Excuse me, I know you’re not macking on my girl.” Holy Shit. He was the scariest man I’d ever seen. He was huge. He was bald. He was tattooed. He was a painted Aztec god; all he needed was a bloody altar and some gold jewelry.