I waited for Demi to laugh, to jog off and dismiss me per usual, but she surprised me when she stood silent, tugging on her braid as if she’d been thinking along the same lines.
“It’s obviously important that you complete this quest,” I continued. “And it’s apparent I’m supposed to help you find true love. And since my Cupid can’t read your heart, we are going to have to do this the mortal way—become friends.”
Demi’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “You and me. Friends,” she whispered as she walked off in a daze.
I followed her like a puppy hoping for some scraps of attention while Lady Goldy took off, hovering just above. It seemed in part to protect, but also to make sure we stayed together.
Demi glanced over at me and laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“If you only knew.”
“Knew what?” I was more than curious.
“Nothing.” She shook her head and picked up her pace, slipping into a light jog.
Feeling foolish and more vulnerable than I cared to admit, I called out to her, “Can we be friends?”
You would have thought I was a teenage boy asking a girl to the prom, judging by how sweaty my palms were.
She stopped and turned. The early-morning rays caught her just right, illuminating her like the goddess she was. She quite honestly took my breath away.
“It’s a complicated proposition, Roman. And . . . didn’t you just tell me last night that you didn’t want anyone to know aboutus?” She used air quotes.
“Yes,” I breathed out. “This entire thing is fraught with peril.”
“Fraught with peril?” she laughed. “That escalated quickly.”
I rubbed my temples. It was too early for this. “You really know how to emasculate a guy.”
Her smile faded. “I apologize. That wasn’t my intention. It’s just . . . this is . . .”
“Weird.”
“Very.” She hesitated, then added, “And I don’t want to like you.” The corners of her lips ticked into an almost smile. “It’s easier for me to be wrong about you.”
“I don’t want to like you either,” I half teased. “But maybe we were both wrong about each other?”
“Perhaps,” she conceded. “Mr. Breadstick Mustache Man.”
“A guy does what he can for his daughter.” I made no bones about it. Undoubtedly, I had looked ridiculous last night in front of Demi, but I never regretted making Junie smile.
“Not all guys,” she said with meaning. “Junie is lucky to have you. You seem like a good dad.”
“This surprises you?”
“Honestly, no, but seeing it for myself really puts a damper on my hating you.” She laughed, but as always it didn’t reach her eyes.
I was beginning to think it couldn’t. It was probably for the best. I had a feeling that if I ever got to witness the “real” Demi, it would be dangerous to me, to my show.
“I feel the same way watching you with Junie. Hell, watching you with anyone besides me.”
I wanted to ask what I’d done to her to make her hate me, but I didn’t want her to return the favor. How could I ever explain that I blamed her for the void in my seemingly perfect life?
She shuffled her feet, avoiding my gaze. “I’m not so sure this is a ringing endorsement for us to become friends.”
“Probably not, but the fact remains that the gods wish it.”
