I was officially afraid. Had Cassie hexed him? She’d been annoyed with Jonas, sure—but this felt extreme, even for her.
Jonas flashed me a wicked grin and pulled a folded piece of paper from inside his vest.
What was he up to?
“You wrote a song?” I stuttered, blinking.
When did he have time to write a song?
“Let’s just say I had a wee bit of help from Cupid.” He winked.
That wink said everything. This song was from Roman.
Jonas had a lot of nerve to ask Roman for a song, especially knowing how Roman felt about me.
I knew Cupids were gifted with sonnets and poetry—it was practically in their DNA. But why would Roman do this for Jonas?
Of course I knew why. He was still clinging to the delusion that Jonas might be my soulmate.
All Roman had to do was touch Jonas—or Cassie, for that matter—and he’d know the truth. But between Cassie’s spite and Jonas’s deep distrust, that wasn’t going to happen, and he was going to remain clueless.
Roman was such an idiot. A wonderful, maddening, noble idiot. But an idiot all the same.
“Cupid?” I giggled, reminding myself I was supposed to be playing a part—for a mortal TV show, no less.
“Yes, Cupid, darling. So try not to swoon too hard. I’d hate for you to take a nasty tumble off your horse.”
I gave Jonas my full attention, knowing exactly where this song had actually come from. Roman’s heart.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Very well.” Jonas cleared his throat.
And that’s when I remembered—Jonas had a terrible singing voice. I’d heard him sing along to the car radio before, and it was so painfully off-key it was almost charming. Not that I’d ever mentioned that to him. I’d just been grateful he felt comfortable around me, especially considering I was practically dead inside when we dated.
“Here it goes,” Jonas crooned in his usual sexy timbre. Too bad that didn’t carry over into his singing voice.
“The title is ‘Demi Divine.’”
I pressed my lips together. That was . . . a lot.
But Cupids were known for their cheese. Sure, they’d penned some of the greatest works in history, but they’d also churned out some truly corny stuff.
Case in point: “My Heart Will Go On.”
Yep, that was a Cupid.
And the reasonTitanicbecame a global sobfest.
It felt like the entire crew was holding its breath, waiting for this masterpiece—or train wreck—to unfold.
Jonas closed his eyes and screwed up his face as if he were bracing for humiliation. No doubt he was absolutely loath to do what he was about to do. Which only made me even more grateful for him.
He opened his eyes, squinted at the paper, and began.
“She’s like a whisper wrapped in fire and ice,” he warbled, painfully off-key. “But neither can contain her or suffice. For there are no mortal words to define . . . the beauty and the majesty of Demi Divine.”
He screeched the last line like a banshee in a wind tunnel.
