Page 17 of Corrupting Cupid

A cagey as fuck response. But he didn’t have to explain himself to me. That’s not what the thing between us was.

I left him to clean up and sorted myself out, clipping my hair back up after dressing and washing myself.

‘Should I throw out all these old papers?’ Amor said from behind the bar.

I rounded the corner and held out my hand, pushing him away from the drawer full of Old Maid wrappers. ‘No, don’t touch them.’

‘Sorry, I was looking for the cloth to wipe down the bar after... well.’ Amor gave a sheepish shrug.

‘It’s not rubbish. They were my grandfather’s favourite. Growing up, he gave me one of the little cakes every day after school. I’m not ready to get rid of them. It feels like one of the last little bits of him I have.’

Amor’s face softened. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. I wanted to turn toward him and bury myself against his chest, the easy affection tempting.

Instead, I cleared my throat and put a little distance between us. ‘I need to get the bar closed up.’

‘Lesson three tomorrow?’ he said.

‘After work.’

CHAPTERTWELVE

AMOR

Joe topped up my coffee and passed me a plate of bread loaded with some sort of meat—delicious meat. I feared the mortal food would lack flavour, but boy, had I been ill-informed.

‘What is this?’

‘Pastrami and mustard.’

‘It’s delightful.’

Joe’s face broke into a thousand more little crinkles when he grinned.

We ate in companionable silence for a time until our plates held nothing but crumbs, and the remains of our coffee grew cold.

‘You’ve been at Rusty’s bar a lot since you’ve been here. Do you need some other recommendations?’ Joe asked while turning over his newspaper.

‘It’s okay. I like it there,’ I said.

Joe fixed me with a look before letting out a little hmph.

‘What?’

‘Do you like the bar? Or someone in it?’

Shifting in my chair, I toyed with the handle of my mug.

‘Thought as much,’ Joe said. ‘Who is she? Or he?’

‘She. The bar owner.’

Eva.

Joe tutted and shook his head. ‘Don’t go falling for the girl when you’re leaving next week. She’s lost enough.’

‘It’s not love.’ Did mortals fall for one another so easily without divine intervention? She invaded my thoughts almost constantly, but I was certain it was just lust. Or intrigue. Not love.

‘Don’t go breaking hearts. There’s only so many times they can be mended. You never know which crack will leave someone irreparable.’

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