Chapter 27 #2
She glanced at me, her eyes sparkling. She was barely breathing hard even though our pace was strong. “Well, what would your song be?” she asked. “Let me guess: ‘Sexy and I Know It’?”
“You think I’m sexy?” It was a foolish question to ask, but it was sad how badly I wanted her to say yes.
“I think everyone thinks that.”
“But do you?” It felt like I was putting my heart on the line.
“Very much so,” she whispered.
I smiled. Too pleased. Too undone by her.
“Um . . . you never said what your song is.” She seemed eager to change the subject.
“Hands down, ‘Barbie Girl.’”
She narrowed her eyes. “Now you’re just teasing me.”
“You got me.” I grinned. “I’d have to go with the classic—‘Lose Yourself.’”
Her face lit up. “You know, I did a floor routine to that song once. Perfect D and E scores.” She said it like she was lost in the memory—almost like it belonged to someone else.
“I remember,” I mumbled. “You were amazing.”
“It wasn’t really me.”
“I know you think that,” I said. “But it was you. Your divinity is part of you. Even so . . . I have a feeling your mortal side was pretty bad a.”
“Bad a?” She blinked. “Huh?”
“I stand by the saying.” I laughed. “Junie has a habit of repeating everything I say, and she came to love the word ‘ass’ a little too much. Worse, she used it in such hilarious ways, I always ended up laughing instead of trying to correct her.”
Demi laughed, and it sounded like home to me.
“That doesn’t surprise me at all. She’s like a mini adult. Except smarter.”
“She certainly keeps her mom and me on our toes.”
Demi slowed her pace, her steps quieter now against the pine-needled trail. “Do you miss her mom?”
I thought about Carmen. About our romantic relationship that never quite fit—even though, on paper, it should’ve been the perfect size.
“We’re still good friends,” I said. “And for some reason, that works better for us. We talk every day. And of course, Junie will always connect us. But I don’t miss being married to her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Demi pressed her lips together, like she was holding something back. I had a feeling I knew what it was.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I knew from the start that our relationship wouldn’t last. That she wasn’t meant for me.” I paused, the forest quiet around us—just the rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird. “My heart warned me. So did my siblings. My father. Even your father.”
Demi tilted her head. “Then why marry her?”
Why, indeed.
Did I really admit to Demi that I’d felt a void? That I’d been living out some Roman tragedy, even as my life looked nearly perfect? Especially when, for so many years, I’d convinced myself she was part of the reason. Of course, I knew better now. It had been me. My choices.
“I feel like I’ve spent half my life searching for something—or someone—to make me feel complete,” I said. “I guess I got tired of waiting. And I did love Carmen. Still do, just . . . not romantically.”
“Yeah,” Demi murmured, more to herself than to me. “I understand that. Wanting to feel whole. Like yourself.”
“That’s a good way to put it.” I glanced at her. “As good as my life is, and as much as I appreciate it, I’ve always felt like something’s missing.”
“Is your heart locked too?” she teased.
“Is that what it feels like for you? Like a piece of you is missing?”
She nodded. “A big piece. But I only have myself to blame. I messed with magic I shouldn’t have.”
“We’re going to find your true love and fix it.”
And not just because her father had promised me that helping Demi would lead me to what I’d been searching for. I wanted her to be happy. Truly.
“Which means I need to know everything about you. Including who you were in love with.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, wide-eyed.
“Why do you keep bringing that up?” Her voice was tight. “I thought I made it clear last night—it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about him.”
I halted beside her and—foolishly—took her hand. It felt natural. Too natural. But I shouldn’t have touched her. It only made me want more. Want her.
She didn’t pull away. She gripped my hand like she needed the connection too.
“I spoke to my father,” I said, trying to ignore how good her touch felt.
“He told me there are two kinds of true love. The first is the most common—when a love match becomes its purest form, when two people’s devotion makes them one.
The second is rare. A soulmate. One soul, split in two, searching for itself. ”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “So what does that have to do with who I fell in love with? Obviously, he was neither.”
“Maybe,” I said, hesitating.
“Maybe?” she questioned. Clearly skeptical.
“My dad said soulmates are naturally drawn to each other. Hardly any force on earth can keep them apart. But if something—or someone—wrongfully forced their paths to deviate, it might confuse their souls. They could be in each other’s presence and not even know.”
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Trying to comprehend.
“Maybe locking your heart made your soul’s path deviate,” I added, thinking I was clever.
“What if it was something else?” she asked quickly.
“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But regardless, how would my true love’s soul come to recognize mine if we were wrongly or unnaturally torn apart?”
I paused. This was the tricky part. “This man would have to love you so much . . . he’d be willing to sacrifice anything for you.”
Her brow crinkled, disturbed. “Like, he’d be willing to die for me? Is that what we’re talking about here? Because I don’t want him to do that.”
“No one’s saying he will. He just has to be willing to lay it all on the line. As will you for him.”
“Oh, is that all?” She laughed—sharp, bitter—like the world’s worst joke had just been told.
“This shouldn’t surprise you,” I said gently. “This is a quest, after all. Heroics are part of it.”
She bit her lip, and I wanted to nip at it too.
“I don’t expect heroics from him or me,” she murmured. “I just want to fall in love like a normal person.”
I stepped closer. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Close enough to see the tiny flecks of purple in her eyes that hid among the green and blue.
Her breath hitched—sweet and shallow—and I could smell the faint citrus of her shampoo, the salt on her skin.
“Demi,” I said, voice low, “you’re not normal. You never have been.”
She looked up at me, gaze locked on mine, unblinking. Her tongue skimmed her bottom lip, slow and deliberate. She had to know. Had to feel how badly I wanted to kiss her. To pull her against me and lose myself in her mouth.
I closed my eyes for just a moment. Fighting the urge. Fighting everything.
“Demi,” I whispered. “Who were you in love with? Maybe . . . maybe he deserves a second chance.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“Maybe,” she whispered, voice trembling.
I both longed and loathed to know who the lucky guy was.
“Who is it?”
“I can’t tell you. At least . . . not right now.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated. Very complicated.”
“Is it Jonas?”
She blinked, like I’d popped the bubble she’d been floating in. Her head shook, slow and certain.
“No,” she was quick to say. Was it almost too quick? “Why are you bringing him up?”
“This is a reality TV show,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You have to know we dig into your past. He’s the only boyfriend we could find of yours.”
I braced for her to pull away. To shut down. To freeze me out. Instead, she smiled—deviously.
“If you’re digging into my past,” she said, overly satisfied, “you won’t find who you’re looking for there.”
“If he’s not in your past . . . where is he?” That made no sense at all.
“I’ll let you know. Maybe. It just depends,” she said, voice lilting, teasing, clearly reveling in having the upper hand.
“Depends on what?”
She didn’t answer. Just grinned—impish, infuriating. I swore she enjoyed torturing me.
If her smirk weren’t sexy enough, she leaned in and brushed her lips against mine—a featherlight kiss, gone before I could process it, let alone capture it.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You’ve given me some hope.”
“I did?” I wanted to give her more so she would kiss me again.
“Yes,” she said, breathless.
Something in her eyes shifted—a flicker of the real Demi broke through the lock around her heart.
It undid me.
I reached for her, slowly but deliberately, my hand finding the curve of her waist. She didn’t pull away. Her breath hitched. And before I could talk myself out of it, before I could remind myself that I was supposed to help her find her true love, I leaned in. This time, I kissed her.
Not a brush.
Not a tease.
This kiss lingered.
Her lips were soft, warm, and parted just enough to welcome me. She tasted like ambrosia and something sweeter I couldn’t name. I took my time with her, my fingers trailing up her back to get lost in her hair as my lips moved over hers repeatedly.
She melted into me, her fingers curling into my shirt, anchoring us both. She smiled against my mouth, and it wrecked me.
“You want to be my number one kiss, don’t you?”
“Damn it,” I groaned, lips still grazing hers. “You shouldn’t know that.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“We shouldn’t be kissing,” I said, trying to sound like the responsible one, like I hadn’t been the one to initiate the kiss. “It’s against the rules. And you have to find your true love.”
“Who says we can’t have fun along the way?”
Hell. She was going to be the death of me.
“Demi, I’m the host and the executive producer.”
“All right,” she sang, all faux innocence. “I guess I better go, then. I need to talk to Cassie anyway—see if she can help me figure this out. Thanks again.”
She waved and jogged off, her messy bun bouncing, her legs unfairly impossible to ignore. But then she turned, flashing a smile so brilliant it knocked the breath out of me.
“Oh, and by the way,” she called out, voice light and lethal, “the kiss was amazing . . . but not number one. Just in case you’re wondering.”
I had been. Of course I had. But I didn’t need her to kick my ego to the curb like that. Or maybe . . . just maybe . . . she was inviting me to try again.
It would be fun, like she’d said, but we would be playing with fire. And I didn’t want either of us to get burned. Especially now that she might have an inkling of who her true love was.
I knew I had to find him. And for his sake and mine, I needed to keep my hands and lips off Demi. But, Titans, it was the last thing I wanted to do.