“I already know you’re not even that mad at me because—drumroll please—no stutter.”
He was seriously way too smug for someone half my size.
“Fuck off,” I said, pulling him in for a noogie.
“Get off me,” he said, laughing as he pulled away. Straightening his hair, he suggested, “Put it in your bio, man. Say that you have a stutter. Anyone who’d judge you for that will swipe past you and you’ll be none the wiser.”
I stuck out my chin and crossed my arms over my chest. Fuck, I needed another shower. Before that, though, I openedthe app—why the hell did they hafta call it CUPID?—and read the pop-up.
Ready to fall in love this Valentine’s Day? Time to meet CUPID!
Over the last five years, Heart2Heart has helped thousands of lonely hearts find their perfect match. Now, just in time for Valentine’s Day, we’ve taken matchmaking to the next level.
Your romantic future is about to get even brighter thanks to CUPID, the Compatible-Unit Partnering Intelligence Databot, which pairs H2H’s enormous database with the most accurate compatibility-detection technology ever created. Many users say CUPID knows what they need in a partner even better than they do!
Want to know what CUPID has in store for you? Click here to sign up.
Tyler, a systems analyst, took my phone and read through the notification.
“This is some advanced algorithm work,” he said, scrolling down the page. “Nice.”
“Give me that,” I said, snatching the phone from him.
“Look,” he said, pointing to a flashing button on the screen. “For a little extra, you can set up a blind date for Valentine’s Day. They’ll take the details from your account and the details from the other guy’s account and pull together the perfect Valentine’s date. Doesn’t hurt to give it a try.”
“I dunno. I still haven’t figured out the locker room yet,” I admitted, glaring at the app. “Pretty sure the team’ll be okay with my sexuality, but until I come out, I’m a little wary of having someone recognize me. Especially considering I did at least one interview with every local news station…”
Tyler, who never could let me stay in a bad mood, patted my shoulder. “Rhys, you’re the best human being I’ve ever met.I’m mad that I’m not gay because if I could go gay for anyone, I would go gay for you.”
“Whatever. Lindsay would kick my ass,” I retort, talking about his amazing girlfriend. There are days when she’s the only reason I put up with his shenanigans.
“Of course she would kick your ass.” His expression goes from smirking to sincere. “What I’m saying is… you deserve to be loved. To be fucking worshiped. Anyone who would treat you any less is so shitty that you shouldn’t even consider them. So, if this CUPID thing is supposed to be good at putting people together, maybe just be super honest in your profile. Put it all in there and see what CUPID can do.”
“You do realize that you’re speaking about this technology like it’s a real person and not some sort of advanced programming, right?”
“True, and that’s probably what the machines want from us, but let’s just go with it for now, Rhys. We’re talking about your heart. And your dick.”
“Please never speak of my dick again.”
“Fine. But only if you go on a blind date next week for Valentine’s.”
I huff out a breath. “Fine.”
CHAPTER 2
SEVERIN
I’d seena lot of dumb ideas from dating apps, but this one might’ve taken the cake. Heart2Heart had a Valentine’s Day special with their new matching algorithm software, which had initially sounded as if it might be a cool idea. Now, though, I was parked at the Meadow & Vine in downtown Austin, feeling like a jackass.
To be fair, I was a professional chef, and one thing I’d listed as a turn off was picky eaters. My turn ons included someone who enjoyed a good steak, so I was pretty sure the unfortunate location was my fault.
Either way, this was already starting to feel like seven disasters in a trench coat pretending to be a date.
The first disaster, of course, was me deciding to be me. I loved punk rock, and I looked the part with tons of black-and-gray tattoos, well-worn jeans, leather boots that’d seen better days, and the black Misfits T-shirt I’d had since high school.
Given the amount of time I spent in the kitchen, I kept my dark hair cropped close and my beard short. I liked to think I resembled a younger, more tattooed Colin Farrell, though that assessment may have involved a bit of delusion.
I’d have worn a button up and some nicer shoes, but it would’ve felt like a lie, and there’s no covering my neck and knuckle tattoos. Besides, I figured that if I wanted something more long-term—which, fuck me, I did—I was going to need to be myself from the beginning.
