Chapter 27
Chapter XXVII
Roman
You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot.
I repeated it like a mantra as I jogged toward Demi’s place in the early-morning light. No doubt she was annoyed with me. Possibly livid after how our interview had gone last night. I was hoping to catch her on her morning run. Explain myself. Try to fix whatever damage I’d done.
The thought of her being upset with me didn’t sit right. And—if I was being honest—I just needed to see her. Spend time with her. Even if it was just a few stolen minutes.
Watching her play softball with the cast had nearly done me in. Sure, she’d looked adorably sexy in that jersey and those shorts—but it was more than that. It was the way she encouraged everyone, lifted them up, made them feel seen and appreciated.
I wanted to be the one she cheered for. The one she high-fived. The one she pulled into a hug after sliding into home just in time.
I hated that I couldn’t be the one to patch up the scrapes on her beautiful legs.
But more than anything? I hated that I could never kiss her again.
At least it was my lucky day. As I rounded the path to Demi’s cabin, she stepped out the front door.
Lady Goldy perched on the porch railing like a feathered sentinel. The golden eagle spotted me instantly and launched into the air, gliding toward me before landing on my shoulder like we were old friends.
That, of course, alerted Demi.
Even from a distance, I caught the eye roll. Hard to say if she was more annoyed that her eagle liked me—or just with my general existence. Probably both.
I stroked Lady Goldy’s feathers. “Hey, girl. Thanks for not gouging my eyes out.”
Demi called out, voice dry as ever. “I told you your eyes are too pretty for that. But, had I known you were coming, I would’ve asked her for a surface-level scratch.”
I laughed and closed the distance between us. “I suppose I deserve that.”
She descended the steps in athletic shorts and a matching hoodie, legs on full display—sculpted, sun-kissed, and entirely unfair.
I tried not to ogle.
Tried not to imagine kissing her again.
Tried not to picture my hands in that messy bun.
Failed on all counts.
She shrugged. “I get it. You answer to the studio. You need drama. Blah, blah, blah. And I’m sure your crew hates me, so why not pit everyone against me?”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
She gave me a look—chin tilted, eyes narrowed. “Really? Then why show everyone clips of me?”
“I was trying to help the audience make sense of your . . . let’s say, one-eighty.
” I held her gaze. “You have to admit—it’s a stark change.
You don’t think people won’t question it?
We’re fielding calls nonstop. Every reporter from here to Hong Kong wants to interview you.
And I figured your ‘besties’ would come to your defense. ”
Her posture softened, and she grinned. “So you were trying to play hero? Is that what I’m hearing?”
“I mean, if you want to call it that. Sure.”
She nudged me with her elbow. “Okay, fine. I’ll give you that. As long as you promise you’re not handing out my info to all those reporters. And you won’t let them on the property.”
“I swear. I won’t let that happen.” I hesitated. “But you realize—after the show ends, you’ll be fair game to the vultures.”
“That’s assuming I complete this quest.”
She tried to sound brave, like she’d made peace with it. But I heard the tremor in her voice.
“For all we know, Demi Blake might cease to exist.”
I placed a hand on her arm. Firm and mostly friendly. “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to find your true love.” I paused. “Actually . . . I was hoping we could run together. And maybe I could ask you some questions—you know, like we talked about before.”
She raised a brow. “What kind of questions?”
“Getting-to-know-you questions,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling like a middle schooler with a crush.
“I thought maybe if I understood you better, it’d help me find the right guy for you.
” And maybe—just maybe—I wanted to know her better while I still had the chance.
I cursed myself for having missed out on her all those years ago.
“Also,” I added, “I got the feeling last night that maybe . . . you needed help rediscovering yourself.”
“You picked up on that?”
“I do have some gifts,” I said, trying to keep it light. “Maybe not as powerful as yours, but I can read people too. Sometimes even without touching them.” Though the Titans knew I wanted to touch her. “I do have a pretty intuitive mortal side.”
“This is really sweet,” she said, voice faltering. “But it’s a little weird, you helping me like this. I mean . . . we kind of made out. And, well . . . our history,” she stuttered.
I dropped my hand. “I would say we definitely made out. But we’re adults here. I’m sure we can move past it. Not let it happen again.”
Demi shifted her weight. “Yeah, for sure. I mean, why would we need to kiss again?”
I could think of ten good reasons off the top of my head, but I didn’t mention them. “Exactly. We can mark me off the list.” The words tasted wrong. Flat.
“One down, billions more to go,” she tittered. “But . . . how am I supposed to meet any of them before the full moon in August? We’re already into July. The show’s already cast. And we both know none of these men are the one.”
“Maybe it’s not a cast member,” I offered. “Or maybe it’ll be someone we bring in during Temptation Week.”
I didn’t tell her I’d already asked Lars to track down Jonas.
He was a hard guy to find. But something about him still felt unfinished.
Just how Demi had been so defensive about him when he was first mentioned.
And Lars—who was well connected in both worlds—had found no one else in her past. No other romantic ties.
Just Jonas. And the way Demi had reacted yesterday when I’d asked who she’d loved . . . it stuck with me.
“Or maybe I’ll send Todd home and bring in someone new,” I added. “The poor guy only wants Olivia.”
“Yeah, he does,” Demi said. “I feel bad. My rules kept them apart.”
Then she took off down the path, her stride strong and fast. I wondered if it was because she wished she could distance herself from her past decisions and how she’d run the Bureau.
Lady Goldy took flight; she glided in the crisp morning air as I chased after Demi, matching her pace.
The path curved beneath a canopy of evergreen trees and aspens, their leaves whispering overhead in the breeze. Sunlight filtered through the branches, dappling the trail with shifting patches of gold. The scent of pine and damp earth clung to the air in the quiet morning.
“Hey,” I called out, breath steady. “That wasn’t meant to be a dig at you.”
“I know. Really, I do,” she said, her voice softer than before. “I just feel guilty.”
“Don’t. I think you were trying to do the right thing.”
She side-eyed me with a flicker of her old fire. “Really? Coming from the man who submitted more complaints than any other Cupid?”
“I’m being sincere.” I glanced at her, watching the way she held to her perfect stride. “I’m starting to see that your life experiences taught you something different than mine did. But . . . now that you know better,” I teased, “you can do better.”
“Maybe.” She exhaled, her breath visible in the cooler pockets of shade. “I hope I get the chance to.”
“You will.” I smiled. “I just need to learn everything about you.”
“That could take some time.”
That was the plan. Get as much time with Demi as possible.
“We might have to run together every day,” I said. “And maybe you can sneak over for dinner once or twice. Junie would love to see you.”
She bit her lip, eyes flicking toward a peek of the horizon through a window in the trees where the mountains blushed with early light.
“I could probably handle that. And I’d love to see Junie.”
“Great. It’s a plan.” Relief filled me. “So, first question. Is your favorite candy still Reese’s Pieces?”
She giggled, the sound light and bright against the rustling trees.
“Yes. But how did you know that? And why is it important to finding my true love?”
“I remember you mentioning it once in an interview and—”
“You remember that?” She looked at me, surprised. “Wow. I guess you really were a fan.”
“A big one,” I said, no shame. “And it’s important because it could be a deal-breaker. You wouldn’t want him to be allergic to peanut butter, now would you?”
“That would be tragic.”
“See? We just narrowed down the pool. No peanut allergies allowed.”
“To be fair, though . . . if he were my true love, I’d give up the candy.”
I looked at her, the sunlight catching the curve of her cheek. “Now I know something else about you. You’re selfless.”
She paused, her steps slowing just slightly. “I don’t know about that. I think I used to be.”
“Anyone who would give up Reese’s Pieces is practically a saint.”
“Do you like them?” she asked.
“Love them.”
“Hmm, good to know.”
“Okay, next question. What theme song would you like to play every time you entered a room?”
“Where are you getting these questions?” She laughed.
“I am a Cupid. Romance is kind of my thing. And musical preferences are important in a relationship.”
She cringed and blushed, and it was adorable. “I can only think of one song right now, but it’s embarrassing.”
“You have to say it.”
We rounded a bend and plunged deeper into the forest. The scent of pine grew stronger, and the air turned cooler.
“Okay, but don’t laugh.”
“I’ll try my best not to.”
“Fine,” she groaned. “‘MMMBop’ by Hanson.”
I tried not to laugh. Really, I did. But how could I not?
“With all the songs in the world—in two worlds—and this coming from a champion athlete, that’s what you choose?” I said through fits of laughter.
“Hey.” She nudged me. “Hanson was a very important part of my growing-up years.”
“I don’t know if I’d spread that around,” I goaded her. “Or mention it to your true love.”
“Listen, if he can’t deal with that, he’s not my true love.”
“Fair point.”