“I mean, if you want to call it that. Sure.”
She nudged me with her elbow. “Okay, fine. I’ll give you that. As long as you promise you’re not handing out my info to all those reporters. And you won’t let them on the property.”
“I swear. I won’t let that happen.” I hesitated. “But you realize—after the show ends, you’ll be fair game to the vultures.”
“That’s assuming I complete this quest.”
She tried to sound brave, like she’d made peace with it. But I heard the tremor in her voice.
“For all we know, Demi Blake might cease to exist.”
I placed a hand on her arm. Firm and mostly friendly. “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to find your true love.” I paused. “Actually . . . I was hoping we could run together. And maybe I could ask you some questions—you know, like we talked about before.”
She raised a brow. “What kind of questions?”
“Getting-to-know-you questions,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling like a middle schooler with a crush. “I thought maybe if I understood you better, it’d help me find the right guy for you.” And maybe—just maybe—I wanted to know her better while I still had the chance. I cursed myself for having missed out on her all those years ago.
“Also,” I added, “I got the feeling last night that maybe . . . you needed help rediscovering yourself.”
“You picked up on that?”
“I do have some gifts,” I said, trying to keep it light. “Maybe not as powerful as yours, but I can read people too. Sometimes even without touching them.” Though the Titans knew I wanted to touch her. “I do have a pretty intuitive mortal side.”
“This is really sweet,” she said, voice faltering. “But it’s a little weird, you helping me like this. I mean . . . we kind of made out. And, well . . . our history,” she stuttered.
I dropped my hand. “I would say we definitely made out. But we’re adults here. I’m sure we can move past it. Not let it happen again.”
Demi shifted her weight. “Yeah, for sure. I mean, why would we need to kiss again?”
I could think of ten good reasons off the top of my head, but I didn’t mention them. “Exactly. We can mark me off the list.” The words tasted wrong. Flat.
“One down, billions more to go,” she tittered. “But . . . how am I supposed to meet any of them before the full moon in August? We’re already into July. The show’s already cast. And we both know none of these men are the one.”
“Maybe it’s not a cast member,” I offered. “Or maybe it’ll be someone we bring in during Temptation Week.”
I didn’t tell her I’d already asked Lars to track down Jonas. He was a hard guy to find. But something about him still felt unfinished. Just how Demi had been so defensive about him when he was first mentioned. And Lars—who was well connected in both worlds—had found no one else in her past. No other romantic ties. Just Jonas. And the way Demi hadreacted yesterday when I’d asked who she’d loved . . . it stuck with me.
“Or maybe I’ll send Todd home and bring in someone new,” I added. “The poor guy only wants Olivia.”
“Yeah, he does,” Demi said. “I feel bad. My rules kept them apart.”
Then she took off down the path, her stride strong and fast. I wondered if it was because she wished she could distance herself from her past decisions and how she’d run the Bureau.
Lady Goldy took flight; she glided in the crisp morning air as I chased after Demi, matching her pace.
The path curved beneath a canopy of evergreen trees and aspens, their leaves whispering overhead in the breeze. Sunlight filtered through the branches, dappling the trail with shifting patches of gold. The scent of pine and damp earth clung to the air in the quiet morning.
“Hey,” I called out, breath steady. “That wasn’t meant to be a dig at you.”
“I know. Really, I do,” she said, her voice softer than before. “I just feel guilty.”
“Don’t. I think you were trying to do the right thing.”
She side-eyed me with a flicker of her old fire. “Really? Coming from the man who submitted more complaints than any other Cupid?”
“I’m being sincere.” I glanced at her, watching the way she held to her perfect stride. “I’m starting to see that your life experiences taught you something different than mine did. But . . . now that you know better,” I teased, “you can do better.”
“Maybe.” She exhaled, her breath visible in the cooler pockets of shade. “I hope I get the chance to.”
