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So We Meet-Cute Again

Everywhere Aiden goes, he sees the same handsome stranger—and promptly makes a klutzy, ridiculous fool of himself. Over and over again, their crossing paths spell humiliating doom for poor Aiden.

Jason is intrigued by the lanky brunet he keeps chancing upon, and the more he learns the more he wants to properly meet the guy. When they do finally meet, groceries—and hearts—go flying, but can they turn their never-ending meet-cute into something real?

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Excerpt

Aiden thought it might be time to admit it. It was official. Certified and sealed.

He was a stalker. An accidental and harmless one, but a stalker all the same.

Because there he was again. It was that same guy. He was everywhere.

Aiden watched the other man from across the street. And he was certainly nice to watch. Handsome as sin and hot enough to sizzle. He was all broad shoulders and muscled arms and chiseled jaw. He was exactly Aiden’s type, apparently. Until now, Aiden had been unaware that he even had a type. But there Hot Guy was to strongly indicate otherwise. You learned something new every day, Aiden supposed.

Hot Guy must have moved to the neighborhood recently, because Aiden didn’t remember seeing him everywhere before the last month or so. But now, wherever Aiden went, there Hot Guy was.

It was getting ridiculous, really. Aiden was contemplating writing up a disclaimer and printing it on a card. Something like I’m not stalking you; I just like ogling your very fine physique when I happen to see you, might do the trick.

Currently, Hot Guy was leaning over the late-summer produce at the farm stand just down the block from the table where Aiden sat. Traffic was sparse and the street was somewhat narrow, so Aiden had a fairly good vantage point from his spot at his favorite café.

He’d been staring off into space, contemplating the arrangements at the next event his company had been contracted to organize, when Hot Guy showed up. Aiden had happily transferred his attentions. After all, Hot Guy was much more interesting than the room layouts that had previously occupied his thoughts.

There was nothing wrong with a little bit of visual admiration, right? It wasn’t like he was catcalling the guy. There was no actual interaction, just admiration from afar.

Aiden decided to give up on being discreet since Hot Guy never noticed him anyway. He set his coffee down on the little table and lounged back, contemplating the tall blond. His hair wasn’t a true blond, more of a dish-watery faded brunet. The gloriously tousled mane brushed the broad shoulders that Aiden was so fond of. His tapered torso lead down to slim hips and long legs that ended in some hardcore biker boots. Faded dark denim and a forest green t-shirt finished the image. He looked at the shirt and wondered what color Hot Guy’s eyes were. Aiden hoped they were green to match the shirt.

He sighed wistfully as his gaze traveled back up to the hair. And the face, features too strong to be pretty but they were definitely appealing, maybe even handsome. And then there were the eyelashes so thick he could tell from here. And they framed eyes that were now looking right at him.

Shit. As casually as possible, he picked up his coffee and drank. He tried to pretend to be staring at the produce. Yes. That’s all he’d been doing: looking in the direction of the farm stand, watching people come and go. Right. Totally believable. Except not.

Of course the one time Hot Guy actually noticed him would be the one time Aiden was openly ogling instead of covertly ogling. Damn it. Aiden wondered if Hot Guy was straight and homophobic and likely to try to kick his ass. That would match the way his luck usually went.

Risking another sneaky glance back at Hot Guy’s face, he saw a grin and an expression suggesting withheld laughter.

That was great. That was just awesome.