by Anya Nowlan
“The Haygrove lot project! I’m telling you, I think there’s something hinky about it and no one will listen to me, not even my best friend because she’s too busy swooning over Cupid!”
Brittany gave Zaria a fake pout, trying to look hurt, but the smirk she wore gave her away immediately. They were both insurance auditors, and Brittany had been saddled with an especially odd project where nothing seemed to be adding up, and all the higher-ups appeared to be telling her to just stop asking questions. Something like that was highly unusual, especially since the company in question was supposed to just be some sort of a logistics hub.
“That’s not his real name, I bet. And he was a jerk, anyway,” Zaria scoffed, the light turning green and the two friends continuing on down the street from their coffee run during lunch hour.
“A jerk? That’s not what I heard after the event! Then he was totally dreamy and ‘not like anyone else I’ve ever met!’” Brittany said, mimicking her voice and doing far too good of a job of sounding entirely lustful.
Zaria nudged her with her elbow, smiling, though there was a hint of sadness to her. She’d been so sure that they had a moment, she and this Cupid who came from nowhere and then disappeared into it as well. Some sort of a connection, something that could have been fun! But the event had tallied the votes the same evening and by the next morning, Brittany had gotten nearly ten names and numbers while Zaria had gotten none.
No wonder, because the only number she’d put down had been Cupid’s—fourteen, amusingly enough—and he must have not done the same for her. So once again, her general feeling toward Valentine’s Day and all that it stood for had been proven to be correct. It sucked. Love sucked. Hearts sucked. And here she was, sipping on a latte that cost far too much without even being able to enjoy it because she was so busy mulling over why he didn’t put her number down!
“Well, obviously it’s the curse again,” Zaria said somewhat triumphantly, having to work a little to keep in step with Brittany in the throng of people. “Maybe his card got misplaced or something. Or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need a date anyway. I have Brad’s endless bouquets to keep me company.”
Brittany and Zaria scoffed together at that. With Valentine’s Day growing nearer, Brad had become a whole new level of nuisance. He had sent so many bouquets of roses to her office that by now, he must have bought out most flower stores within a few miles and there was at least one big armful of roses for every desk at the office. The only one who didn’t seem to be appreciative of the gesture at all was Zaria herself.
It made her feel uncomfortable and sad that she was causing someone clearly intelligent to come off the rails like that.
“Why do you think he keeps doing that? Not understanding that ‘no’ and ‘get away from me’ and ‘stop stalking me, you juvenile maniac’ actually means that he should, you know, keep away from you?” Brittany asked, two more intersections separating the women from their office and the drudgery of work.
Zaria pondered this for a moment, thumbing her phone in her pocket. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she’d spent quite a bit of time on SassyDate now, trying to locate her mystery Cupid, though she was pretty sure she wouldn’t send him a poke or anything even if she found him. Why would she?
He didn’t want to meet, right? But she was curious and she was hooked, like some sort of invisible line kept yanking her toward him. Even though she had no clue who the guy was other than the fact that he called himself Cupid, he was hot as hell and he was the only guy who’d made her laugh in a really long time. She wanted to know more.
“I don’t know, honestly,” Zaria said with a sad sigh, feeling guilty as hell again about Brad. “I don’t think he’s ever been dumped before. He’s always been the one doing the dumping. I mean the guy has washboard abs, mid six-figure income, and those Hampton looks, you know? I don’t think he knows what ‘no’ means and he’s trying to make me forget that I do!”
She was just about to launch into another long, annoyed rant about the damn man when Brittany screeched. Zaria, deep in her own thoughts, had her mouth and feet moving but her eyes barely checking where she was going. At the very last second before she would have been hit by a bus as she’d stepped into traffic without noticing again, a pair of sure, strong, firm arms grabbed her and yanked her out of the way and back to the safety of the sidewalk.
Zaria could see her latte being flattened by the bus, the cardboard cup nothing but a level sheet now as countless cars rolled over it, the frantic horn of the bus still in her ears. She was down on the sidewalk on her ass and elbows, crowded by the body of the man she thought she’d never see again. Her breath came in quick bursts and his seemed to as well, his blue eyes staring intently at her as if he thought he was seeing a ghost.
“Shit,” he said finally, destroying their little moment of confusion. “You really need to watch where you’re going, Zaria,” he said, looking shaken up but still giving her a smile as he hopped up and pulled her to her feet as well. “I’m not sure if I’ll always be around to save your pretty ass.”
“Oh my God! Zaria!” Brittany gasped, nudging through the onlookers to appear at her side. “Are you all right? That was horrifying! Thank you so much for s—”
But Brittany never finished that sentence because she was too busy staring at the tall, smirking man with as much complete unrestrained surprise as Zaria was. It was Cupid! The funny, cocky, arrogant guy from speed-dating who Zaria had been secretly pining after, trying to figure out why she was so damn interested in meeting him again. And here he was, her knight in shining armor, having pulled her out of the path of certain death.
If he gets any dreamier I’ll turn into a Disney princess, she thought with some wryness, confirming that at least her faculties were still mostly intact.
“It’s you,” she finally said, smiling.
“In the flesh,” Cupid replied with a bow of his head, clever eyes twinkling with mirth. “Always near when danger is afoot.”
“Is that what you do, then? Save unsuspecting damsels from oncoming traffic?” Zaria queried, feeling a blush lighting her cheeks.
“Just the ones I want to. It’s a gruesome business,” he said with a laugh, as the light turned green in earnest and Zaria’s eyes flicked to it.
“We better get going,” Brittany said with a subdued voice, not entirely sure what else to say.
“I guess so. I’ll… see you around?” Zaria said, her brows furrowing slightly as she made to follow Brittany, reaction carrying her forward rather than any conscious thought.
“Whenever there’s a rogue bus, I’ll be there,” Cupid said with a wink, standing with his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, looking like everything she’d ever want in a man in one sexy-as-sin package.
Zaria didn’t know what to say to that, but before she got too far across the street, something stopped her, rooting her in the spot. She spun around to see Cupid looking at her with something in his eyes that just about made her want to sprint to him and throw her arms around him.
“Do you w—”
“I was thinking—”
They both started speaking at the same time, yelling over the people pushing past Zaria. She grinned and he did as well, inclining his head toward a coffee shop close to the intersection.
“How about I get you another cup of coffee?” he asked.
“How about I get you some coffee to thank you for saving my ass?”
“Either works,” Cupid said with a shrug, his blue eyes warm and inviting.
“Brittany, I’ll take a long lunch,” Zaria said to her friend, who was still standing by her side, looking all kinds of self-satisfied.
“Told you it was a good idea,” Brittany said, dropping her voice.
“Shut up,” Zaria bit back with a grin, rushing across the street and back to Cupid.
She didn’t need to look back to know that Brittany was giving her that same look as she carried on toward their office. So s
he’d been right. It wasn’t a horrible idea.
But Valentine’s Day was still cursed. Nothing could convince Zaria of the opposite.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cupid
So here she is, Cupid thought with some measure of trepidation. What do I do now?
They were sitting at a small table by the window overlooking the same intersection where Cupid had saved Zaria. Everything had been going so well as they were walking and talking, quipping back and forth about how he was a heroic savior and she a damsel in distress and all that. But it all seemed to get strangled in their throats by the time they actually got the coffee and sat down. By now, a few minutes had passed and neither one had said much.
Cupid was content just looking at her, obviously, but that didn’t make for particularly riveting conversation. She was as gorgeous as he’d remembered her and when she smiled, those little dimples made him want to kiss her full lips just to make sure she’d never stop smiling again. Perfection.
Perfection who didn’t want to go out with you! he reminded himself, sobering his somewhat smitten state.
“So, do you make a habit out of trying to get hit by buses?” he queried, taking a sip of his black coffee, raising one eyebrow at her.
“Only when I know there’s someone around the corner ready to tackle me,” she shot right back, a hint of a smile returning to her face and warming Cupid on the inside far better than the coffee could.
“Oh, so you had this planned all along, huh?” he asked, leaning back in his seat. “Playing me for a fool and getting a cup of milk foam and whipped cream out of it?”
“I’ll remind you that I bought you yours,” she said with a laugh, raising the cup to her lips and making Cupid wish that he was the liquid in it for a moment.
It was sappy as hell, yes, and he was aware of it. But she’d been constantly on his mind since the two minutes they’d gotten to spend together a few days ago, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. Dressed in a dark blue cardigan that made his eyes pop and washed-out jeans, he looked every bit the careless, playboy bad boy he thought himself to be. But around Zaria, he wanted to put his best foot forward.
“Doesn’t make it any less devious.”
“Maybe I am a little bit devious. Would that be a problem?” she queried, licking over her lips for the tiniest moment that would haunt Cupid for the rest of the day.
“Maybe. Do you use your powers for good or evil?”
“Hmm,” she said, pursing her lips thoughtfully and rolling her eyes upward. “I think it depends, really. On the target and the goal.”
“Let me give you a situation then. Purely hypothetical, of course,” he said, leaning forward a bit.
“Of course,” she agreed, mimicking his body language so they were staring at one another up close, like they were conspiring together.
“So imagine this. A dashing, brilliant man... a real prince if I do say so myself. And a princess with gray eyes and a penchant for getting into trouble. But the prince doesn’t know that the princess is actually a sorceress in disguise! So why is the princess hiding this from him? Good or evil? The prince insists on knowing!”
He couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was pure gibberish, yet he couldn’t stop himself. The way it made her grin just egged him on and he would have turned into George R.R. Martin if need be, if that was what got her to be happy. His stag grunted inside of him, edging him forward. As if he needed any help to be madly taken with this smart, sultry little thing before him, all curves and lush promises.
“Hmm,” she said, pondering. “Well, maybe the princess is actually cursed? Maybe she thinks that if the prince knew, he’d run off and she’d have to fight the dragons all alone! Or maybe she just wants to keep him out of danger.”
“So we’re dealing with a very confused princess here?” Cupid asked, sliding his hand across the table to rest next to hers, giving it a quick look.
Their skin was almost touching, but not quite. Still, he could feel the warmth of her body and her aura, which to him felt bright yellow and happy. Zaria was the first person he knew that drove him to find out more about her instead of wanting to remove himself from the situation and clam up before too much was said or heard. She intrigued him and he wasn’t entirely sure why, because it wasn’t just the fact that she was a beautiful woman. She could have been anything but and he would have still found himself hard-pressed to find better company.
“That sounds about right,” she allowed mildly, the look in her eyes softening slightly as she pulled back again, one hand around her coffee cup and the fingers of the other tapping against the surface of the table.
“Well, that’s okay. The prince doesn’t have any idea of what he’s doing either,” he said with a grin.
“Yeah? He seems pretty okay to me. Didn’t even blink at the mention of dragons!”
“Eh, you’ll find out that dragons tend to be big old pussycats when you get to know them. Just need a belly rub and a pot of gold every now and then to keep them perfectly satisfied.”
It wasn’t completely the truth, obviously. Some of the absolute scariest, most driven shifters Cupid had ever known had been dragons. They ran most of the world, after all, hogging all the top spots in the Forbes top richest people lists. No one knew that they moonlighted as giant scaled creatures with the strength and power to level cities if they so wished. Weird creatures, if anyone were to ask for Cupid’s opinion.
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Zaria said, her dimples showing and the sunlight from outside reflecting off of her skin beautifully.
He smiled, incredibly satisfied with how things were going. She was cute as hell and smart as a tack, but something was still nagging at him. Could he ask why she hadn’t marked him down on her card? Why she hadn’t wanted to meet him? Was it his cockiness? Did he oversell himself?
Cupid bit the inside of his mouth, trying to wave the negative thoughts away. What mattered was that she was here with him and he had another shot to win her over, first impressions be damned. But he couldn’t do much of course if he kept staring at her like a fool in love! Luckily, it was Zaria who shook him out of the moment and brought him back to the present.
“So the thing you said at that unfortunate heart-shaped fiasco that was the speed-dating,” Zaria started, looking down at her coffee coyly as if she was going to find some answers in it. “Your name? Is it actually Cupid?”
“What do you think?” Cupid asked back, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
With a literal herd of brothers with names like Blitz, Vix, Dash, and Pran, he’d become rather adept at dealing with the odd conversation about his family. It had turned into a bit of a game for the Frost brothers—seeing who could make the worst puns and make up the silliest tales without getting called out on it.
“I… I honestly don’t know what to think. When’s your birthday?”
“Forward, aren’t we! Next thing I know you’ll be asking for my social security number and my birth certificate!” he laughed, but with a flourish, he reached out his hand so he could look at the watch on his arm, scrutinizing it with a serious expression. “It appears in about thirty-six hours, if I’m reading this right.”
“Wait, so you’re born on Valentine’s Day? And your parents named you Cupid?!”
He couldn’t have said anything to surprise her more, it would seem. She grinned like a kid at Christmas, thoroughly amused by Cupid’s misfortune.
“It would appear I have been burdened with this curse, yes,” he agreed, taking another swig of his coffee.
He was running out soon, which meant she probably was as well. Which meant she’d have to go back to work and he’d have to let her go. None of that pleased Cupid Frost.
“So I bet you love Valentine’s Day then, right? The whole world celebrating your birthday.”
“You mean the Day That Must Not Be Named? Sure, big fan,” he snorted, putting the cup down. “Nothing I enjoy more than being surrounded by cutout hearts an
d small, cherubic, winged babies bearing my name. The day when the national average chocolate consumption jumps by a good ten points. Oh yeah, couldn’t be happier.”
“You sound delightfully bitter,” Zaria said, raising her eyebrows at him. “I like it! Never been a big fan of the day myself. Though I’m sure your birthday is fantastic and deserves all the adoration it can get.”
“I try to avoid that too,” Cupid said with a shrug of his shoulders, though he had to admit that she did catch his interest with the way she was talking.
Most of the women he’d ever met had been swooning over his name and how it was all so very romantic and he had to be this supremely thoughtful, utterly heart-shaped guy himself because he was born on such a special day. But honestly, Cupid was never like that.
Every relationship he’d had would fail in a brilliant ball of fire and he’d mostly given up on the whole concept. Sure, his brothers all seemed to be gearing up to go find their “fated mates” now, but as far as Cupid was concerned, it was all just bullshit that parents fed their shifter kids to make them think there was something better out there.
The truth was that for most species, marriages were often arranged, and even if they weren’t then hormones got the best of a lot of them during mating season and they’d end up with someone they loved to fuck, but didn’t particularly love otherwise. He was determined not to be that guy. In fact, he was determined not to love at all if that saved him the trouble of the aforementioned romance issues.
As such, being born on Valentine’s Day and it being surrounded with the veritable storm of love and chocolates and affection each year had never done much to lighten his mood. He hated the notion of doing something for someone simply because it was the right day for it, and the fact that it fell on his own birthday made him even more sour about it.
He took one last sip of his coffee the same moment that Zaria finished hers and when their eyes met, both of them seemed to realize that it would be time to go soon.
Fuck.
