Cupid’s Curse (The Wicked Meet Cute)

4. Chapter Four

Skylar

Valentine’s Day evening

Awakening to the fading light of a Valentine's Day almost entirely spent asleep, I groan, my body protesting the intense workout from the previous night, every muscle throbbing and on fire from being used in ways they haven't in a long fucking time. Immediately my thoughts drift back to last night with Kallen, and a smile forces its way across my lips, making my cheeks hurt.

I look down, noticing only a thin t-shirt clinging to my chest, not even long enough to cover my naked ass or the bite marks and bruises left behind by Kallen. When I stretch, I instantly regret it; the pain from moving my body is much worse.

"Oww," I whine, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed, the blinking notification light on my phone catching my eye.

"What the fuck now?" I mumble, yanking it off the charger, which backfires when the long braided cable retaliates and smacks me right in the mouth.

I already want to go back to sleep until this day is over. Nothing good ever comes from Valentine's Day, and it's already proving to be true when I open my phone and see many missed calls and text messages from Kaleb, whose name in my phone is now shrimp dick. Not wanting to deal with his bullshit, I delete all twelve messages without even reading them. But just as they finish moving to the trash, another one pops across my screen, and the preview of the message informs me that he's on his way over so we can talk.

No, the fuck we're not.

I bolt out of bed, accepting the aching all throughout my body, and dash to my closet to quickly get dressed. Staying away from red and pink, I grab a blue lacy crop top and a pair of black jeans with rips in the knees. I don't think I've ever gotten dressed so fast. But I'll be fucking damned if I'm still here when that asshole shows up.

I apply a quick layer of mascara and eyeliner, run a brush through my hair, and brush my teeth, trying not to drip toothpaste onto my shirt. When I'm done and satisfied with my appearance, I run down the hallway, sliding in my socks across the shiny hardwood floor, almost colliding with the end table near the front door.

Lucky no one is here to see me almost bust my ass.

I grab my leather jacket and step into my riding boots, just wanting to take a ride to clear my head.

Once I put my helmet on, my anxiety fades, and the nerves in my belly dissipate. I rush out of my apartment, feeling hidden from the world, but mainly knowing that even if I were to bump into Kaleb, his ass wouldn't recognize me since he never paid attention to the color of my helmet or anything for that matter.

I step into the elevator, sliding my phone in the zipper pocket in my jacket, feeling it vibrate almost instantly. But I ignore it, just wanting out of this building as fast as I can. The second the elevator doors slide open and I step off, I see Kaleb walking toward me, a bouquet of pink and red roses in his hand. I cringe, walking casually as if I'm no one to him, which, let's face it, I'm not anymore.

I walk past him and subtly turn to look over my shoulder, watching him step into the elevator with no fucking clue that it was me who just walked by him. It just goes to show how much he paid attention for the years we were together. Another reason I'm glad I walked away from his sorry ass.

The sun has fully set by the time I get to my bike, mounting it slowly because of the pain in my legs from Kallen spreading them as if I were a fucking gymnast. The growl from the engine and the vibrations against my inner thighs awaken me, putting me completely at ease as I take off in the night, the crisp wind in my hair, and the bright full moon following me as I ride.

The city lights blur into streaks of color as I accelerate, the rhythmic thump of the engine a soothing counterpoint to the throbbing ache in my muscles. The wind whips through my hair, a welcome distraction from the lingering tension of the encounter—or rather, the non-encounter—with Kaleb. He’d probably be fucking fuming, oblivious to the fact that he just missed me. A small, wicked smile plays on my lips. Serves him fucking right.

My phone vibrates again, insistent in its silence within my jacket pocket. I ignore it, letting the speed and the freedom of the ride wash over me. The pain in my legs is a dull throb now, overshadowed by the exhilaration of the open road. The moon, a brilliant silver disc in the inky sky, seems to guide me, its light reflecting off the wet asphalt.

I ride for hours, the miles melting away beneath my wheels. The city gives way to winding country roads, the air cleaner, the silence punctuated only by the purr of my engine, and the occasional chirp of a cricket. I find a secluded spot overlooking a valley, the lights of distant houses twinkling like fallen stars. I switch off the engine, the sudden quiet almost deafening after the constant hum.

Leaning against my bike, I pull out my phone, finally checking the barrage of messages. Most are from Kaleb, increasingly frantic and desperate. One is a picture of the roses, wilting already. I delete them all without a second thought.

There's also a text from Kallen, a simple

"Evening, sleepyhead. Hope you're not too sore."

A warm feeling spreads through me, chasing away the lingering chill of the night.

I reply with a quick

Evening, fucker. Sore but happy.

Then, I add,

See you tonight?

The reply is almost instantaneous

Tonight there's a Valentine's Day party at the bar. I was sorta hoping I could take you.

Fine, I'll go, but just so you know, I fucking hate this holiday, so don't expect me to be dressed all pretty in pink and shit.

Just get your ass to the fucking bar.

A grin stretches across my face. Tonight is going to be a very long night. And with my utter hatred for the pointless holiday, if it means I have another opportunity to see Kallen, I guess I can deal with it for a few hours.

I start the engine, the familiar growl a promise of more adventures to come, and head back towards the city, the moon still my silent companion, the night still young, and my heart full of a different kind of ache—the good kind.

Not even a mile away from the bar, I spot a fellow biker stranded on the side of the road, his arm stretched out with his thumb up, signaling he's looking for a ride. Being the nice bitch that I am, I pull over, stopping my bike in front of his and climbing off once the kickstand is down.

I keep my helmet on but flip the visor up as I approach him. He turns his head and puts his arm down, lifting his visor, a familiar yet distant twinkle in his eyes making my breath hitch.

"I hate to state the obvious, but I take it somethings fucked with your bike and you need a ride?" I ask, scanning his bright red bike, shiny enough to see my reflection.

The look he gives me is one of shock; even just by looking at his eyes, the only part of him I can see. He wasn't expecting some chick to pull over and save the day, but guess what? It looks like I am.

"Yeah, shit won't stay running. I thought it was the gas, but the tank's still about halfway full," he says, still piercing his eyes into mine. "I was heading to this party at some bar down the street. You think you can give me a lift. I'm not from around here, so I don't know where the fuck I'm going."

I laugh, a little surprised he's going to the same spot as me, but in a small town, it's usually the place where everyone goes.

"The Pint, right?" I ask, running my hand over his bike, savoring the touch of the smooth finish.

"Yeah, you know it?" He takes his key out of the ignition and pockets it, doing a quick check to make sure he has everything he needs.

"Sure do. Matter of fact, I'm heading there myself." I smile even though he can't see it, but my eyes squint, giving him the faintest hint of one that he returns, a low chuckle leaving his chest. "Come on, I don't mind giving you a ride."

I turn to walk back to my bike, feeling his eyes burning straight into my ass, even without having to turn around. I swing my leg over the seat and inch forward so there's room for him.

"I'm Roman," he announces as he climbs on behind me, his hand gripping the sides of my bike instead of wrapping his arms around me.

Which, let's face it, I'd rather anyway since I have no idea who this fucking man is. For all I know, I could end up on the side of the road, dead in a ditch, before we even get to the bar. But that wouldn't even be the worst part. The worst part would be that I was murdered on fucking Valentine's Day, the day I despise the most.

"I'm Skylar," I reply, closing my visor and then gripping the handlebars, feeling better than I have in a long fucking time all because me, some little biker chick, came to a grown ass man's rescue. Shit, it makes me feel good.

With the engine rumbling to life beneath me, I pull smoothly back onto the road, my heart racing not just from the thrill of the ride but from the intriguing presence behind me. I can feel Roman's energy—a mix of excitement and a hint of recklessness—radiating against my back. It’s fucking intoxicating.

"Hold on tight!" I shout over the roar of the engine, the world around us blurring once more.

I lean into the curves, my instincts taking over as I maneuver through the occasional potholes and sudden turns, navigating toward the bar that pulses with the nightlife of the city. The night air rushes past, cool and refreshing, and despite my usual disdain for Valentine’s festivities, there’s a thrill simmering inside me. The sheer act of speed and freedom envelops me like a favorite song I haven’t heard in ages. Roman’s presence—with his newfound energy and those easy, breezy vibes—adds a new layer to my ride, making it one of the most enjoyable evenings I’ve had in a long time.

As we approach The Pint, I can see the neon lights glowing like a beacon, drowning out the darkness surrounding it. The thumping bass from inside spills over into the street, a reminder of what awaits. I slow down and pull to a stop, cutting the engine. The sudden silence plunges us back into reality.

Roman swings his leg over, dismounting gracefully before he steps around to where I am. I pull off my helmet, tugging at my hair to get rid of the messy nest it has become. Roman keeps his helmet on as he pulls out his phone, I assume calling someone to take care of his bike.

“Wow,” he says, cracking a smirk. “You really know how to handle that bike.”

I roll my eyes, unable to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “It’s just a bike, but thanks. You’re not too bad yourself for a runaway roadside hitchhiker.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I had my doubts when a badass chick like you showed up to rescue me,” he responds, his eyes lighting up as his grin spreads wider. “But I’m glad I took my chances.”

I chuckle and step closer to him, drawn into his magnetic presence. “Well, let's see if you’re still glad after we’ve both had a few drinks. Might find out I’m more trouble than I look.”

“Ah, trouble can be fun,” Roman quips, his eyes dancing with a hint of mischief. “Care for a drink to celebrate my rescue?”

At the mention of drinks and the festive atmosphere of the bar, I remember Kallen and the invitation from earlier, still lingering in my mind. But the thought of partying with him—while still tempting—fades slightly as I look at Roman, who seems genuinely eager to have a good time. Earth’s world doesn’t have to revolve around just one man after all.

“Sure, why not? Just don’t blame me when I show you how to really have fun on a holiday everyone hates,” I challenge. I'll meet you inside, though. I have to take a piss," I admit bluntly, causing him to laugh.

"Alright, I'll be right in. I have to make a call," he says, leaning against my bike.

I salute him as I walk to the door, anxiously pulling it open, secretly wishing Kallen is already here. Inside, the ambiance is electric. Couples are dancing, laughter bounces off the walls, and the air is thick with the scent of spilled beer and overwhelming perfume. I wave at the bartender, a familiar face that I’ve seen before, as I make my way past the bar toward the bathroom.

I smile to myself as I think of the night I met Kallen as I push open the bathroom door, memories of our wild night together still fresh in my mind. While doing my business, I shoot Kallen a text, letting him know that I'm here and that I'll be waiting at the bar. Of course, he replies instantly with an "Okay, see you soon."

I wash my hands when I'm done, touching up my hair and appearance as I glance in the mirror at my hot mess self. Gliding my chapstick on my lips, my phone startles me, vibrating in my pocket and making me jump. Also making my hand slip and my chapstick coat a layer up my cheek. Thank fuck it's clear and not lipstick or something. I wipe it off and pull out my phone, dreadfully answering a call from my lovely mother.

"Yeah?"

"Jesus, Skylar, could you sound anymore annoyed? And how rude to answer the phone that way," she gasps, and I roll my eyes at her, wishing she could see through the fucking phone.

"Sorry, mother. What can I assist you with this blissful evening?"

"Smartass," she snaps, again whispering to someone who's with her. "I'm just calling to remind you about dinner tomorrow night. I made reservations at the place you like on the water."

"Ma, it's fucking dead ass winter. Why the fuck would I want to eat on a fucking deck in the damn cold?" This time I snap, regretting agreeing to join her.

"We have a table indoors; relax. Are you still coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Good, Kent is really excited to meet you," she says, her tone switching to cheerful in the blink of an eye.

"Yeah, okay, great. I'll see you guys tomorrow," I mutter, ending the call before she can blab about anything else.

I need a fucking drink.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I anxiously make my way through the crowd, just wanting to get to the bar. I don't see Roman, but I see Kallen, his back to me as his head turns to look at the crowd. I sneak up behind him and pinch his ass, making him jump. And then my arms wrap around his waist, and I rise on my toes to whisper in his ear.

"Nice ass, you wanna have a quickie out back?" I joke, laughing as he slowly turns around.

And then my jaw drops. Something isn't right.

Roman looks at me, his eyes wide in shock, but a mischievous grin plays along his lips. The shock of his dark hair against his tanned skin makes me hesitate. His eyes—the same intriguing twinkle that caught my attention earlier—now flash with appreciation and curiosity. But that isn't what's wrong. It's the fact that he looks exactly like—

"There you are," Kallen comes up from behind me, grabbing my hip and tugging me backwards so my ass fits against his groin like a puzzle piece.

I do a double take. My head going back and forth between Kallen and Roman, like I'm fucking seeing double... because I am.

"What the fuck is going on here?" I ask, my throat dry, my heart racing.

"I see you've met my twin brother," Kallen winks, nodding towards the stranger I picked up on the side of the road—his twin fucking brother.

"Ahh, so that's why you grabbed my ass and asked if I wanted to fuck," Roman jokes, laughing as Kallen gives me a confused look.

"In my defense, I had no idea that there were two of you," I admit, taking a seat before I collapse from the shock still slapping me across the face.

"Skylar, you naughty little thing. If you wanna go out back and fuck, I'm down," Kallen coos, looking at me the way he did last night that caused us to end up in the same bed, fucking like goddamn bunnies.

"It's not funny. I feel played." I hang my head, feeling the embarrassment creeping to my cheeks.

"Im just fucking with you," he apologizes, putting his large, tattooed hand on the small of my back. "So how did you two meet?"

"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."