Page 10 of Cupid's Curse

"My fucking bike broke down and she ended up stopping to give me a ride," Roman answers for me, for which I'm grateful.

"Oh, how cute. A fucking chick saved your day," Kallen laughs, trying to get a rise out of his brother. But it doesn't work.

“What’s your poison?” I ask Kallen and Roman, ready to dive into the chaos of the night, needing a drink to ease the crippling anxiety.

“Surprise me,” Roman replies nonchalantly, leaning over the counter, his confidence radiating.

"Same. I'll drink whatever you put in front of me," Kallen says, his confidence matching his brother's.

I order us shots of tequila—because why not go hard from the start? The bartender smirks knowingly, pouring the drinks with the swift precision of someone who’s seen his fair share of wild nights. I place their shots in front of them and grab the other for myself, raising it in toast.

“To new friends and reckless nights,” I declare, my gaze lingering a moment longer on both of them as we down the shots in unison.

“Damn, that burns,” Roman coughs, wiping his mouth and laughing. “But I like it.”

“Glad to hear that,” I say, ordering us another round.

"Pussy," Kallen chimes in with playful banter.

A small part of me begins to buzz with excitement, not just from the alcohol but from the spontaneity of this unplanned adventure. Who would have thought my night would steer in a direction like this?

As laughter and banter flow between us, I begrudgingly push thoughts of everything else aside, at least for the moment. Roman is charming and engaging—everything I hadn’t anticipated. Kallen is more blunt and opinionated, much different than his quieter brother.

In these haze-lit moments, I realize that maybe it’s time to reconnect with whatever slivers of life and excitement I’ve tucked away since everything fell apart with Kaleb.

After a few more rounds and as the music shifts to something upbeat, I pull Roman onto the dance floor, wanting to feel the rush of the night surge through me. The crowd surrounds us, and I let loose, swaying my hips and allowing the rhythm to take over. And then Kallen joins us, both him and Roman matching my movements, their laughter blending with the beat, and amid the vibrant chaos, I finally feel free—more alive than ever.

The night unfolds in a whirlwind of music, movement, and unexpected connections. The tequila loosens my tongue, and my inhibitions melt away with each shot. Roman’s touch on my waist as we dance is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to Kallen’s more possessive grip. They’re different, yet both undeniably captivating in their own ways. The initial shock of discovering Kallen’s twin has faded, replaced by a thrilling sense of the absurd. This Valentine’s Day, the one I swore I’d hate, is turning out to be anything but predictable.

Hours blur into a kaleidoscope of laughter, shared secrets whispered in crowded corners, and stolen glances across the dance floor. Kallen’s playful competitiveness with his brother adds a layer of unexpected fun to the evening. They tease each other relentlessly, their banter a constant source of amusement. I find myself caught in the middle, enjoying the attention and the unexpected company. The initial awkwardness of the situation has completely vanished, replaced by a comfortable familiarity that surprises even me.

As the night deepens, the bar empties, leaving only a handful of die-hard revelers. The music softens, the atmosphere shifting from boisterous energy to a more intimate vibe. Roman pulls me aside, his eyes sparkling with a newfound intensity. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear.

“So,” he whispers, his voice husky, “about that quickie you mentioned earlier.”

A laugh escapes my lips, a mixture of surprise and exhilaration. I glance at Kallen, who’s watching us with a smirk playing on his lips. He raises his glass in a silent toast, a silent acknowledgment of the unfolding chaos, then walks over to join us, yanking me out of his brother's embrace and into his.

The look the two of them share makes my palms sweaty and unwelcome butterflies swarm in my stomach. They're up to something, and fuck, I'm more than willing to find out what it is.

The initial anger and frustration I felt towards Kaleb have completely dissipated, replaced by a sense of liberation. I’m not dwelling on the past, not clinging to old resentments. Instead, I’m embracing the present, the intoxicating thrill of the unknown. The unexpected encounter with Roman, the revelation of Kallen’s twin, the sheer absurdity of it all—it’s a perfect storm.

The three of us end up leaving the bar together, the night air cool against my skin. The walk back to my apartment is filled with easy conversation, laughter, and a shared sense of adventure. The initial tension between Kallen and Roman has dissolved, replaced by a strange, unspoken understanding.

As we reach my apartment building, a strange sense of contentment washes over me. This Valentine’s Day, the one I had vowed to despise, has become a night of unexpected twists, turns, and thrilling encounters. It’s a night I won’t soon forget, a night that has reminded me of the beauty of spontaneity, the thrill of the unexpected, and the intoxicating power of letting go.

"So," I whisper, my words slurring heavily as I look at both of them, holding onto the doorknob. "You two want to come up?" I wink, licking my lips, completely fucking obliterated.

They share a quick look, Kallen flashing me a wink as they take a step closer to me, the heat from their bodies engulfing me and stirring something deep inside my core. Roman cups one of my cheeks while Kallen grabs my throat like he did last night, both leaning in to whisper in my ears.

"What the fuck are we still doing down here, pretty girl?" Kallen growls in a sesuctive whisper, his breath kissing my skin like embers from a scorching fire.

Roman whispers next, making me tremble from the filth flowing from his mouth. "Yeah, little night rider, take us upstairs and show us if you can ride a cock as well as you can ride a bike."

Skylar

The stairs seem tostretch endlessly—we can't get up them fast enough. We're already shedding clothes as the apartment door slams shut behind us. In the dim hallway, discarded garments mark our hurried path, like a trail of breadcrumbs. The alcohol surges through me, washing away everything but the present moment.

The aching in my body is momentarily forgotten, numbed by the liquor, though I know the reckoning will come tenfold tomorrow—especially with two of them.

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