Page 36 of Cupid Loves Curves

“Yeah, he does. We’ve talked. I think we’re good.” I clap him back, a smile finding its way onto my face despite the nerves gnawing at my insides. “I’ll see you soon.”

I burst into the crisp night, leaving behind the heat of the party for the cool clarity of solitude. My boots thump against the pavement in a steady rhythm, echoing the heartbeat pulsing in my ears.

My thumbs hover over the screen, uncertainty a bitter aftertaste against the earlier adrenaline. I type, erase, and retype a message to Jessica.

Hey, it’s Luke. Can we meet? I’m headed to the coffee shop on Main.

Send. I haven’t felt apprehension like this since I was strapped into a Humvee, racing into battle with a loaded weapon in my hands. Anxiety coils in my stomach like barbed wire, but it’s tempered with a spark of excitement that sends a charge through my veins.

I get to the café and scan the menu board absentmindedly, too hopped up to think about drinking caffeine. A barista with an eclectic collection of tattoos on her arms offers me a small nod as she wipes down the espresso machine.

“Decaf coffee, please,” I manage, my voice steady despite the explosion of need and emotions inside my heart.

A vibration in my pocket pulls me back, and I fumble for my phone, anxious to see if she’ll even talk to me. It’s Jessica.

Sure, give me fifteen minutes.

I take a seat, my back to the wall, watching the door like my life depends on it.

“Here you go,” the waitress sets down a steaming mug in front of me.

“Thanks,” I murmur, though my gaze never leaves the entrance.

When the door finally opens and Jessica steps in, time stops. She’s silhouetted against the streetlamp outside, her long black hair a dark cascade gleaming under the coffee shop lights. Hereyes search the room, landing on me, and my pulse thrums with an intensity that makes me worry about the strength of my heart.

“Hey,” she calls out as she shrugs off her coat.

“Hey.” My reply is a croak, and I clear my throat as I stand. “Thanks for coming.”

“What’s up?”

“Jessica,” I start, my words trailing off as I lose myself in her blue eyes. Everything I want is wrapped up in Jessica, and I’m terrified I’m going to fuck things up again, or she’ll say no. After what I did, I couldn’t blame her for rejecting me, but everything I could ever hope for depends on her saying yes.

“Is everything okay?” Her face softens with concern, and it nearly does me in. Despite what happened the night of our date, I don’t know if it was all just fun and games or if I still had a chance.

“Everything is...” The admission comes out rawer than I intended.

Her hand reaches out, brushing mine. Electric desire courses through me.

“Explain what you mean?” She pauses for a second as the waitress comes and she orders chamomile tea.

I fumble with the paper napkin, tearing it into shreds as my heart hammers against my ribs. “Jessica,” I begin again, voice unsteady, “I owe you an apology—for everything that went down between us.” My gaze locks onto hers.

“Hey, Luke, we’re both adults. It didn’t work out before. We don’t have to read too much into the matchmaking thing. We can call it a dud,” she replies, a shadow falling across her eyes.

My heart can’t believe she means that. “No, listen.” I lean forward, my voice urgent. I need her to understand and not think I’m making easy excuses. “It was more than just bad timing or crossed wires. I never wanted to end things with you, Jessica, believe me. But I was dealing with shit from war, and I knew I couldn’t be the man you deserved. I didn’t want to hurt you by not being able to live up to the love I saw in your eyes.”

Her hand covers mine, and I let go of the half-shredded napkin. “Oh, Luke... Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“Jessica,” I exhale her name. “I couldn’t talk about it for more than a year. Waylon finally got me to talk to a guy at Warrior Cares. It’s embarrassing to say I have a therapist, but I do. I don’t go often anymore, but it helps.” The rawness of my confession is like tearing open old scars, but it’s necessary. “I need you to know because I want to be the man you deserve. I want to be a man you could love. Not someone who came back from war broken.”

“Stop,” she interrupts gently, her grip on my hand tightening. “You’re not broken. You’re one of the strongest people I know, Luke. And you’re doing the work—that’s what counts.”

“Am I?” I ask. I don’t always believe that I’m doing everything I can. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just scratching the surface.”

“Then we’ll keep digging until you find the peace you need,” she declares, her voice fierce with conviction. “I’m here for you, Luke. All the way.”

“Jessica...” Her name spills out, tangled with all the hope and desire I’ve bottled up inside me. The air between us crackles with intensity. This is more terrifying than any battle I fought in.

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