I nodded, heart pounding. I’d never been surer. Or more terrified. And that was saying something for a girl who’d performed on the world stage in front of judges who could crush you with a glance. What I wouldn’t have given for some uneven bars right now. Or a balance beam.
“Godspeed,” Cassie giggled, squeezing my hand.
Roman stood taller, adjusting his suit coat like he was bracing for impact. Did he think he had something to prove? If only he’d open his eyes—or maybe his heart—and see what was right in front of him.
Me.
“We have one last ex tonight,” Roman said halfheartedly, like even he wasn’t ready.
Jonas didn’t wait for his cue. He strutted out in tight jeans and a form-fitting T-shirt, curls deliberately unruly, green eyes locked on me like I was the only thing that mattered. His clothes said,I don’t give a damn.His walk said,I’m here to win.And he didn’t even glance at Roman as he passed.
“Hello, love,” he crooned. “I’m here for you. And only you.”
I popped off my seat, fake tears already welling.
“I told you,” I cried, voice cracking just enough, “I never wanted to see you again. How dare you come here!”
Gasps rippled through the clearing.
I turned and ran, trying not to laugh.
Roman wanted drama. And if that wasn’t drama, I didn’t know what was. Seriously, I deserved an Oscar nod.
But I’d take true love as a prize instead.
Chapter XXXI
Demi
“Areyousurehe’sthe one, love?”
Jonas took my hand as we sat on the front porch steps of his cabin well after midnight. Well after the performance of my lifetime.
I squeezed Jonas’s hand back. A hand I’d once wished to hold for the rest of my life, even though I knew it wasn’t mine to have. Jonas had seen me and loved me at a time when I’d needed him the most. And I’d selfishly let him, knowing I could never love him back. Which was why when Roman told me he was coming on the show, I’d gotten ahold of Jonas via the Oracle Link. There was no way I was letting him come without him knowing the truth.
I’d told him everything. About my locked heart, how Roman and I were soulmates and star-crossed lovers, bound by fate and cursed by time. Of course, I’d told him about the quest and how if Roman couldn’t unlock my heart so I could fall in love by the next full moon, I was toast. Like burned, loveless toast.
I’d asked him to help me make a fool of myself in grand fashion.
“I’m sure.” I rested my head on his shoulder.
“You realize he’s just a well-dressed bloody knobhead, right?” Jonas muttered. “And don’t even get me going on the Cupid conspiracy.”
I giggled.
“Roman isn’t a knobhead. And what conspiracy are you talking about?”
“Oh, please,” Jonas scoffed. “You must know they blackmail politicians for favors and cash. And if the poor sods don’t pay up, the Cupid threatens to shoot some seedy character in the arse with one of his ‘arrows’—has them falling madly in love with the politician. Next thing you know, they’re sobbing on national television, swearing they had a torrid affair in a broom cupboard.”
I blinked. “Who told you that?”
Jonas had uncovered some truly heinous acts committed by the gods—no question. But he was also wildly susceptible to conspiracy theories.
“Please, everyone knows that.”
“Jonas, Cupids aren’t sanctioned to administer love pulses unless the Bureau approves the match.”
“You are so naive, darling. There are unsanctioned matches every day.”
