Cupid sits back, considering. “I’m a god, you know,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, you may have mentioned it.”
“So in theory, I can do whatever I want.” His fingers steeple under his chin in thought. “But I’m also a gambling man.” A grin spreads slowly across his face as he looks me up and down. “And I like the stakes.”
“Okay, well…good.” I close my eyes and lift my arms out to my side, head lifted so my face points to the ceiling, and wait.
“Um,” Cupid clears his throat. “What are you doing?”
Eyes still squeezed shut, I reply, “Waiting for you to shoot me.”
“Oh, uh…now?” Cupid hesitates.
I open one eye. “What are you waiting for, lover boy?” He looks shifty, and I don’t like it. Didn’t I just agree to his ridiculous idea?
“Give me a minute.” And just like that, he’s vanished into thin air.
My head whips around to every corner of the room as I search for him. “Cupid?” I hiss. “Where the hell did you go?” I would almost believe I’d made him up, except for one single white feather sitting in the spot where Cupid stood not a minute earlier.
Oh, isn’t this justclassic. Men—they promise you one thing and then just fuck off into thin air.
6
Cupid
The Fates gave me a very specific set of instructions: Find Felicity. Talk her into the arrow. Change her mind about love. Go home.
Simple. Except…
I had an idea as I was talking to Felicity. A very, very bad idea.
And without much thought, I decided to go through with it, which was an even worse idea.
Felicity asked if the arrow would make her fall formein those seventy-two hours. The answer—the right one—is no. It should work by making someone fall in love with the first person they see—and that’s not me. But I lied and saidyes, it would be me. Because in that moment (and even now, still), that’s what I wanted to happen.
I would be within my rights to shoot her with the arrow—just like I was instructed—and win my side of the bet. But I find myself not wanting to use the arrow on Felicity after seeing her again. It’s barely been half a day since we first met, but I had already forgotten some of the finer details of her. Howcharming she is, how fascinating. Howchallengingit would be to change her mind about love the hard way—and how rewarding to do it. Not because I want to win the bet, though. I don’t care about that. Because I want to win her over. I want to win her love.
In three days, though? This idea is basically dead on arrival.
That’s why I’m standing on the footpath of the Golden Gate Bridge, staring across the cerulean vista. I’m giving myself the chance to change my mind before I commit to this harebrained scheme of mine. I let the threads of my idea work themselves into so many questions and possibilities that they become knots. The wind, cool and crisp, whips at my face.
It’s been centuries since I decided to grow up and take things more seriously. Sure, I’ve had a few backslides here and there, but I’m doing my best. I’m trying. But everyone I know looks at me and still sees the same impulsive, flighty guy I used to be. The dumb kid with too much power and a penchant for chaos. The fuck up.
Maybe this was my chance to show everyone I’ve really changed.
I sigh. I know what I’m going to do. I knew what I was going to do as soon as the thought popped into my mind.
So I admit it’s entirely possible I’m making a huge mistake that could change the trajectory of the world. I suppose I just don’t care.
With that final thought still lingering, I open my eyes when I feel the give of carpeted floor beneath my feet. The scorching heat of Felicity’s gaze could melt Icarus’ wings. She lookspissedas she looks up at me from behind her computer screen—it looks like she’s on a video call. She pokes a solitary finger in the air as she wraps up a video call.
Felicity rips off her headphones and hisses, “Are you serious right now? Why did you justdisappearlike that?”
Felicity’s bangs fall into her eyes, and her nose scrunches in annoyance. I smile; I can’t help it. If she knew how cute she looked when she’s angry, she’d probably drop-kick me into the next block just for noticing.
“Well,” she says, pushing up her glasses. “If you’d stuck around and done your side of the deal with the arrow, thiswouldn’t be a problem—but I’ve got to reschedule our bet….thing.”
“Hmm,” I say. “Sorry, no can do.” This, at least, is the truth. The Fates put me on a tight timeline, and they do not like to be kept waiting.
