The Single Matchmaker

by J.J. Arias

“You do not have to play matchmaker here,” Reagan said as they used her mirrored closet door to rearrange themselves and reapply lipstick. Libby wished there was a quicker way to cool her overheated skin. She didn’t understand the animalistic urges that manifested every time they kissed, but she hated the embarrassment that came after. “Are you kidding? And miss the opportunity to look competent in front of your family? I’m happy to answer questions all night,” she responded, without adding that it would keep her from turning into a cat in heat again. Reagan cocked her head to the side and held Libby’s face in her hands. “You don’t have to jump through hoops, Lib. They already like you because I like you. I promise. As long as you don’t come out as a communist, you’re in.” Libby swallowed the anxiety twisting into a ball in her throat. “It can’t be that easy. Nothing is that simple.” “I promise it is,” she said with such ease that Libby nearly believed her.