Page 5 of Forbidden Match

Now I feel personally attacked. The thing I’ve “won” is some kind of romantic weekend retreat where the supposed world’s best matchmaker is supposed to set me up with someone who’s sure to be my soulmate. They’re so confident in her skill, they’re offering a cash prize if I don’t click with their choice.

Even the fucking sandwich shop thinks I need to go on a blind date. I grimace as I crumple the piece of paper up in a fist. Why doesn’t the universe get it? There’s only one person I want, and I can’t have her.

And if I can’t have her, I’m not interested.

They’re lucky the cheesecake is the best cheesecake I’ve ever had, or it would have gone in the trash along with the winning ticket which I take into the trailer and stuff to the bottom of theoffice can. If Jim caught a glimpse of the damn thing, I’d never hear the end of it.

No time, no inclination. That’s my mantra. Because the one I want is so far off limits she may as well not exist.

Despite our time crunch, I’ve got to adhere to basic human decency (along with labor laws), so there’s still some time left in the lunch break. With the whole world hounding me to couple up, I can’t help but lapse into thoughts about the object of my affection.

My best friend’s younger sister.

Could there be a worse girl to be attracted to? It was bad enough when she suddenly became more than just someone I wanted to protect, someone I found funny and interesting. Molly was only on my radar because she and Sam were so close, and Sam often let her tag along with us. Surprisingly, she was never really that annoying. She never felt like more than a kid sister, but she never felt like a hassle either.

Then one day—boom. She wasn’t a kid anymore.

I remember it clearly. It was her graduation ceremony. Sam had dragged me along, saying I was as good as family, and he wasn’t totally wrong. I was raised half-heartedly by an uncle who was only doing his due diligence after my mom left for greener pastures when I was nine and never contacted either of us again. Because of that, I loved going to Sam’s family dinners and being around his loving mom and dad, both of whom treated my successes with the same pride they looked at their own kids’ achievements. And Molly—well, I never once thought of her as a sister. I would have jumped in front of a speeding car for her, same as Sam, but something about her always felt … different.Yep, it was her graduation that did me in and I couldn’t deny my real feelings any longer.

She’d always been smart, but she really came into her own in high school. She managed to study her way into being valedictorian and gave a speech about working hard for what you love because you love it, which really resonated with me. Her long chestnut hair was flying in the summer breeze and as usual, she kept swiping at it in that annoyed way she always did. She couldn’t stand her unruly hair, but I spent way too much time thinking about running my fingers through it. I’ve never wanted her to tame it.

After that, I found myself thinking about way too many other things I wanted to do with her, too.

Now, she’s going to community college, opting to stay close to home because her dad’s been having health problems. She could have gone to any of the country’s top universities, but she’s the kind of person who values family over everything else. When she can, she even volunteers for the county animal shelter. Somewhere along the way she managed to peel off her shyness and has plenty of friends who’d probably rather see her with anyone else but me.

Unlike her, I never managed to outgrow the image of my younger days. The loner, the workaholic, the curmudgeon.

The guy who hates Valentine’s Day.

Well, I’m going to keep on hating it as long as I can’t spend it with the woman I want. On my way back outside to work, I kick the trash can with its idiotic, time-wasting winning ticket.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t make me feel any better at all.

Chapter 2

Molly

I hurry to my car, the thirty dollars I made in tips on the breakfast shift burning a hole in my wallet.

I have no classes today, so it feels like a day off, even with getting up before dawn to serve all the hungry townspeople and truckers that pass through the local diner. Maybe it shouldn’t considering I have a shift at Pawsitive Pals, but that never feels like work to me. In fact, today I’m more eager to get there than ever.

I make one quick stop at the grocery store to pick up a bouquet for Jeanette, the secretary at Pawsitive Pals, and then I beeline over there, giddy with excitement.

There are already a few other regular volunteers out by the dog kennels, getting them out for exercise and games, and they all wave and shout greetings as I hurry toward the front entrance. I smile and wave back, glad to see them, but I don’t let myself get distracted from my objective. I have to get to the front desk.

Just as I settle in, there’s a family inside looking to sign up to look at the cats and I cross my fingers that one of the kitties will find a forever home. I talk up the joys of owning a cat as I show them to the cat hallway, where George will take them back to meet the kitties.

George and I bump elbows and I rattle off my standard explanation when he asks about my dad’s health. George and my dad know each other from the bank where my dad workedbefore his heart started giving him trouble. I’m glad so many people are rooting for him to get better.

“He’s doing fine, his latest visit to the doctor went well and they’re really positive.”

“That’s great to hear, Molly.”

I have to pause to talk to a few more people before I make it back to the office, but once I do, I collapse into a chair across from Jeanette’s desk with a sigh.

I’ve overcome a lot of my natural shyness, to the point anyone who didn’t know me would think I was a social butterfly who thrived off of human contact. While I love the friends I’ve been able to make since working past my fear of new people, it can be exhausting. Deep down there’s nothing I like more than just curling up by myself with a book.

Well—lately, I’ve been thinking I might like to curl up with someone special. As I hand over the bouquet with birthday well wishes, I push down the pang in my heart. The someone special I’ve been pining over for years can’t ever be mine. Never. No possible way.

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