That memory—sharp and stupid—ate at me. And this overwhelming feeling of regret consumed me. Deep down, I knew I’d missed out on more than just being her friend. And now here I was, tasked with—and volunteering for—helping her find her true love. What a cruel twist of fate.
Demi caught me staring. She tossed the grape and missed, and it landed beside her bare legs. Smooth legs. Shapely legs.
“What?” she asked, cheeks flushing.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “You’re just . . . good at that.”
“Oh, thanks,” she replied, voice a little too high, a little too nervous.
I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable around me, but I wasn’t sure how to ease that.
“By the way, thank you for lunch. I, too, love peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwiches.” She pointed at her half-eaten sandwich lying on unfolded parchment paper.
“You can thank your pet. She delivered the picnic basket full of food after she scared the hell out of me in my office.”
Demi giggled. “She does enjoy her theatrics.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I guess the gods really do want us to befriends.” She emphasized the title like it had quotation marks around it.
Was that her hint to me to cool the attraction she felt rolling off me? Her emotional radar system was a hindrance.
“Yeah,” I said lamely. What else was I going to say? Demi was on a quest to find true love. I wasn’t going to get in the way of that.
Thankfully, Junie helped me out.
“My grandma showed me some videos of you doing gymnastics. You were so good,” she said, wide-eyed. “Can you teach me some gymnastics?”
Demi shifted on the picnic blanket, nibbling her lower lip. “Um . . . it’s been a long time since I’ve done any gymnastics.”
“How come?” Junie asked innocently.
Demi pointed to a faint line on her thigh. “A long time ago, I was in an accident, and it hurt my legs.”
Junie touched the line gently. “Are you all better now?”
Demi thought for a moment. “My legs are better, but my heart is still hurt.” She cast a furtive glance at me.
I didn’t need to touch her or know her heart to feel the pain she obviously still carried with her from the night of her accident. The gods might have been able to heal her physically, but emotionally she was still wounded. And to think I’d probably added to those wounds the night of our first meeting when all she was looking for was a friend.
I was a bastard.
All the animosity between us through the years now made much more sense. Which wasn’t to say that I agreed with how she ran the Bureau or that she didn’t love to stick it to me when she could. But I could now see why she had her guidebook and rules.
“How do you fix your heart?” Junie asked.
I wanted to know the answer to that question too. But I knew Demi’s heart wasn’t something I could fix. All I could do was help her find the man for the job.
“Well.” Demi smiled. “Maybe you can help me fix a part of it. How about I teach you a few things about gymnastics?”
Junie jumped up. “Yes!”
Demi stood and tilted her head, studying me. So many questions in her eyes. I got the same feeling as I had the night before—like she was sizing me up and trying me on.
“You have to do this too.”
Her voice was playful and light, so unlike the Demi I’d thought I knew. It was as if she were peeling back the layers and discovering herself again.
