Chapter Four

"Name for the order, please," I requested with my permanent marker ready to write on the paper cup.

"Bob. B-O-B."

I snickered at his response but received a sneer. Bob was so hard to spell, after all. I passed the cup to Benji and slammed it down a bit too hard.

"If you slam one more cup, I swear, Monroe." He put his hands on either side of his waist and cocked one hip out. "What's crawled up your ass today anyway?"

"Nothing," I ground out, turning to give the next customer a fake smile.

"Spill it. I need some tea. My life with my mates is drama-free. It's a good thing, but I'd love to be your cup," he said while making a delicious vanilla latte.

"I had dinner at my family's house last night," I answered in a flat tone. Because that's how I felt about it, flat and run over. Taken out to the trash as well after I replayed the events of the night over and over until my eyes finally closed and my alarm blared only seconds later.

"Keep talking, but at the same time, no more words are needed," Benji quipped back and winked at a guy who, in turn, nearly melted into a pile of goo right there. Benji had a male and a female mate. He was the pivot in the harem. He was tall and always looked put together and kind and supportive.

"Last night became particularly brutal. My mom confessed that she was ashamed of me for being the only one of her children not mated. No one stood up for me, so I was left to assume they all agreed with her. I'm not sure if I'm more pissed or hurt."

"Ah, shit, Monroe. They don't deserve you. I swear, if everyone doesn't find their mate before the age of twenty-five, it's like we aged out or something. We're so contemporary with our phones and computers, but in some ways, we're living smack dab in the middle of a Charlotte Bronte novel."

Everyone in the coffee shop paused their talking and raised their gazes from their phone to look at him. Benji had a commanding presence.

Someone called out a hell yeah from the back.

We waited until everyone went back to their business before resuming. "It's not that I don't want a mate or a husband, but I want it on my terms. Besides, my tastes are unique."

My friend threw his head back and laughed. "Sweetie, they are not unique but a bit more interesting than most."

A rush of heat raced to my cheeks.

"Nothing to be ashamed of. Older guys are hot."

I slapped at his arm. In between customers, we had more time to talk while we wiped down counters and restocked things like cups and napkins. "And where do you suggest I find this older, hot guy who doesn't mind all my quirks?"

Benji rolled his eyes. "You're really going to ask me that? You know where I found my mates."

The app. Shit. I'd had a lapse in memory.

"I'm supposed to get on an app and say I love books and my cat and coffee and dig a guy with a salt-and-pepper beard? How calculated are these things?"

He took my phone from my back pocket and, before I knew it, downloaded the app and handed it back to me. "The questionnaire is detailed and precise. Trust me, if I found not one but two mates on there, you can find one daddy."

"Oh my gods. Shut up. For the record, I'm only doing this to get my family off my back."

Benji raised one eyebrow. "Sure you are, honey. Go on and tell yourself that."

We had customers come in, and so I had to wait until my shift was over before I could get into the questions. Boy, Benji hadn't exaggerated.

These questions were involved and intimate and asked me things about myself that I hadn't even considered.

Was I even open to a relationship with more than one partner?

The answer was yes. What woman wouldn't want more than one strong, capable man doting on her?

That was, if I could find anyone by those standards. I'd been picky in the answers to my questions. So picky, I was sure no one would fit my criteria.

Strong.

Tall.

Older than me.

Reads books.Well-traveled. Even though the most traveling I did was the two blocks from my apartment to the coffee shop.

Gentleman to the core.

I sighed, thinking about all the guys I'd dated here and there. Some of the ones I'd met during my wilder days.

Not a single one fit those parameters, and I doubted even this app with its sophisticated algorithms and procedures could find me one either.

In fact, I made sure no one would be eligible. I made the chances so slim it would take a long time for anyone to hit all my marks.

A small part of me was doing this solely for finding a mate. The rest was to give my parents something to shut up about instead of sticking their nose in my mating business.

The nights did get lonely, despite my insistence my books and my coffee and my cat gave me all the company I needed.

Sometimes I rubbed my fist over my chest, swearing there was an invisible deep hole there, right under my sternum. I told no one about it. Not even Benji.

Everyone needed love and a companion. Some nights, the pull to have a partner tugged at me more than seemed normal. My skin craved contact. I longed to be held by strong arms. My mind needed someone to feel safe with. Secure.

Or perhaps I was simply losing my damned mind and had read too many romance novels.

I hit the completion button and allowed the process to begin.

No way in hell this thing would find a mate for me but in the meantime, perhaps I could use this to fend off my mother and her shame.

Sometimes I wondered why I even cared about the opinions of people who were family by blood but didn't treat me as such. I was tired of chasing their love.