The Cupid Touch

                                                           Prologue

        I should have known better. 

Not just known better: done better, acted better. Been better. There was only ever one way it was going to end. 

I've had friends in the past who have told me I shouldn't be so defensive; that I should let people in more. That I'll never be happy until I do. And not just friends. Guys have told me that, repeatedly. The more irritable ones have told me not to be such a bitch, and at the very worst end of the scale, I've been called frigid.

Ha. Frigid. As if there's nothing but ice inside here instead of blazing anger, and loneliness, and years and years of hurt. 

Well, I'll take frigid if it means they'll leave me alone. If Joseph Moritz had called me frigid, I wouldn't have lost a piece of myself. I wouldn't be lying here feeling like my insides had been dragged out through my chest. 

The unfairest thing is that I can't even hate him for it. 

It's so late into the night that it's almost morning. I wasn't sure there would be a sunrise this morning, but it's already getting dark-blue out there, and I guess the sun will have to come up after that. It always does.

I want to sleep. I really badly want to sleep and not have to wake up, not have to face the world. But I'm so busy missing him that I feel like I'm starving to death. 

How's that for pathetic? It's more pathetic when you understand how much I told myself I'd never be this person. 

But then, maybe the problem is being any person. Because there aren't a lot of people who manage to get through their life without falling in love; no matter how much they may want to.

And I wanted to. So, so much. 

                                        Chapter One

                                        Danger Day

I hated my alarm that morning. I hadn't slept well, and I'd love to claim it was because I could sense something about to happen. But actually, I'd been up late doing a paper I should have done earlier in the evening. In fact, it should have been done at any time in the previous twenty-four hours when I'd been busy trying not to think about job interviews and my closest friend being on the verge of abandoning me. 

The alarm was tuned into Bluesinki, which is generally a good thing. They have a good attitude about starting the morning with upbeat but not-too-loud jazz-funk, and working up to full on hip-hop through the day. Anything wistful or romantic is kept to a bare minimum. That works for me. 

But the first thing I heard this morning was host Marty saying "...it may be cold out there, but it's going to be a really fantastic day with the guests we've got lined up in the studio."

"You want to swap days?" I asked him, rolling onto my back and trying to blink my eyes into focus. Somewhere under the sound of the radio, I could hear my housemate, Maria, laughing. Probably because Luke had said something funny. Or maybe just because she was in a good mood. She's been in a permanent good mood ever since the two of them hooked up back in October. 

Over the radio, Marty was reeling off a lot of semi-famous names with way too much enthusiasm. I wasn't in the mood for chatter.

"Where's the music, Marty?" I asked, before bashing the off-button with a badly-aimed hand.