Love Me Like It’s Real (Love in Maplewood #2)

1. Hayworth

ONE

HAYWORTH

Fools. That's what they all are. Fools of love.

I turn around and check them out. There are a few, as usual. There are always these kinds of fools wherever I go. They primp themselves up, stand a little straighter like a peacock showing off its tail and search for their fated mate, their soulmate, their Prince Charming.

It makes me sick.

When will people realize love isn't real? We’d all collectively be happier as a species if we accepted our primal nature and left love where it belonged. Down the toilet.

“Another beer?” The bartender makes me spin back around to face him.

I take a deep breath. “Sure,” I say and he walks off to the beer tap. “Actually, I’ll change that to an old-fashioned. With a cherry if you have it.”

I need something strong to get me through the night.

As I wait for my next drink I whip out my phone and scan the crowd, trying to spot the two guys in my photos.

I see the victim first—a small young man who’s far more vivacious than he looks.

Trey.

He’s chatting with a pair of women and taking small, measured sips of his tall, dark drink. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would be a player, but if I’ve learned anything over the years of being a dating specialist, looks can be far more than deceiving. Looks can be catastrophic.

I try to catch his eye, to see how he reacts, to get a better idea of who he is and what he likes, but it turns out I don’t need it, because another man does it for me. He walks past him and Trey’s jaw practically drops as he glares at him, drool running down his chin.

Well, not really, but it wouldn’t look out of place if there was drool. The two girlfriends bump each other’s shoulders and once the other man is out of sight they all turn to each other and giggle like school children.

It’s amazing how someone’s whole demeanor can change in an instant when faced with their weakness.

Oh Trey, Trey, Trey. Already showing your true colors, aren’t you?

I tut to myself as the bartender slides my drink toward me. I take a sip as I follow the path of the man who’d caught Trey’s attention. He’s tall, muscular, dressed in tight-fitting chinos and a tucked-in shirt that makes his arms look ginormous.

Fun-fucking-tastic.

This job should be a piece of cake. Although sometimes I wish I could change the objective of said job, like now. But what’s the point? All relationships are doomed to fail anyway. And sometimes we have to learn the lesson the hard way. That’s what Bryan needs. He’s been obsessed with Trey for so long it’s turned him into this pathetic needy person. If pushing Trey toward him can finally get Bryan to realize what a dick Trey is maybe he’d claw himself out of this lovesick hole he’s dug for himself.

Or he’ll call me in a couple of years, when he and Trey are engaged and ask me to seduce his fiancé so he can test him.

Either way, this relationship is doomed. All relationships are doomed. Because love is a scam.

Before I get more riled up, I spot Bryan entering the establishment and try to catch his eye. He does a quick scan of the bar before he sees me and I make sure to glance Trey’s way. Bryan nods and walks toward Trey, passes him by and…

Three…two…one.

Bryan trips a few feet from the table before he composes himself and makes his way toward me. But not before catching the attention of our victim who’s got his eyes pinned on us as I rise to greet Bryan.

I shake his hand, squeeze his arm and allow my hand to linger, and lean forward to kiss his cheek but take a pause to inhale his cologne.

I stay frozen for a while. I want to make sure the image is burned behind Trey’s eyelids before I offer Bryan a seat and beckon the bartender close.

“So? What now?” Bryan asks me as he turns his back to Trey.

“Now?” I look at Bryan with the biggest smile I can muster and blink at him as if he’s my world. “Now you just sit there and let me do my job.” I bite my lip and turn to the bartender.

Bryan gives him his order and when the bartender goes off I keep staring at the mirror behind him.

Trey is frowning, staring at us, which only confirms my suspicions about him. He’s been playing with Bryan’s feelings all this time.

Well…it was time to play with his.

Hook, line and sinker.

* * *

“And it worked?” Jason throws a dart and we both follow its trajectory toward the board before I answer.

“Seriously? When has it ever failed?” I raise an eyebrow at my best friend.

He groans and takes a generous gulp of his maple beer.

“You’re a magician. That’s it,” Jason says.

I shrug. “I’m not. I’m just a good reader.”

“What does reading have to do with anything?”

“Because I can read everyone like an open book,” I say.

Jason chuckles and points at the dart on the table, so I get up and take my turn at the board.

“One day you’re going to read the wrong book and you’re going to get into trouble.”

“Seriously? How bad can a book be?” I smirk.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

I roll my eyes and hand Jason another dart. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not stupid. But trust me. Even the couples I help get together will break up eventually. I’d say I’m a very good reader even if it takes everyone else a while to catch up to my review.”

“That metaphor is slipping away from you, dude. I’d be careful.”

I chuckle and raise my hand to order two more beers from Conall, the barman at The Striped Maple, who nods at me and gets to work on our order.

“Don’t tell me you’re turning on me, old friend. I thought you knew love is a bunch of bullshit.”

Jason puts his hands up and backs away. “Hey! Sure I do. Just because I said you’ll run yourself into trouble one of these days doesn’t mean I’m in love or something.”

“Good man.” I wink at him.

If there’s anyone who understands what it’s like to have your heart squeezed, twisted and discarded like leftovers you feed to a dog, it’s Jason.

I don’t know what I’d do if he all of a sudden decides to forget the lesson he learned early on and decides to…give love a chance.

God, there’s that sick again.

“Season of Love is coming up,” he mutters when Conall hands us our beers.

“You don’t need to remind me. I can already feel it in the air,” I answer, doing my best not to barf.

“So I’m guessing you’ll be doing your usual?—”

“ Our usual, my friend. You’re a member of the club too.”

Jason sighs and drinks his beer.

“I’ve already checked the festival schedule. As usual those old biddies are doing the same, headache-inducing crap,” I say.

“And you’re still hoping you’ll change— we , we ’ll change their mind?—”

“It’s got to happen one of these days, right? I mean, come on. These people are one step short of telling us Valentine is a real little cherub going around shooting his arrows at people or some shit.”

“You do know Valentine is not a cherub, right? He’s a saint.” Jason grimaces.

“No, he ain’t.”

Jason rolls his eyes with a laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And proud of it,” I say and raise my beer.

Jason stares at me.

“Don’t leave me hanging, man.”

“Fine!” He chuckles and clinks glasses with me before throwing another dart. “I can’t wait until you meet your match.”

I almost choke on my beer. Me? Meet my match?

“That’s never going to happen,” I say.

He shrugs. “You never know.”

I scoff. “I do. I do know. I’ve ‘coached’ hundreds of couples by now and you know what they all have in common?”

Jason shakes his head.

“They always break up.”

“Maybe it’s you,” he says with a chuckle, but this is no laughing matter.

“Trust me, my friend. It’s not me. Hell, even this Trey guy today. He might have got ‘his’ man but I saw the way he was thirsting after me. It won’t be long before ‘you’re my Prince Charming’ becomes ‘let’s have an open relationship’ and you know when that happens they’ve almost definitely already ‘opened’ the relationship. All relationships are doomed. That’s a fact.”

“Hey! What about my parents?”

I pause and raise an eyebrow. “Your parents are divorced.”

Jason bites his lip. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But they’ve found their special someone since and they’re happy.”

I groan. “Sure. Until they stop being happy and move on to the next person that comes their way.”

“You’re such a cynic,” he says.

“Nah. Just a realist.”

Jason rolls his eyes and hands me a dart. “Oh boy,” Jason hoots. “It’s going to be so epic.”

I narrow my eyes and glare at him before I throw my dart. “What is?” I ask.

Jason shrugs again. “When you fall in love.”

“Pfft!” I wince. “Believe you me, Jason, dude. That is never ever going to happen in the history of ever!”

I exhale and turn to the dartboard, holding back from laughing at the mere notion.

I’m no fool. I am never allowing myself to fall in love again. I’m going to live and die a bachelor and I will prove to this whole damn town that’s obsessed with love that love is a scam and it needs to be treated as such even if it kills me.