Page 57 of Cupid's Last Arrow

In the morning, I wait until seven o’clock to get up. Eros is still asleep when I sneak out of bed to get a glass of water in the kitchen and maybe some crackers to soothe my upset stomach. Hypnos’s visit rattled me, but it’s mostly Eros’s reaction and what he admitted about the other gods that I’m worried about.

A moment later, Carl walks into the kitchen. His eyes dart to my bedroom door, which is closed. “Dee, we need to talk.” He has his scolding tone in full force. I hate that voice—when he acts like he’s superior to me, and I’m some innocent doe.

I fold my arms over my chest defensively. “Why?”

“What’s going on with this guy?” Carl narrows his eyes. “I know you’re lying to me about him.”

“What if I am?” I huff. “Like you’re so honest with me about your love life?”

“I don’t trust him, and neither should you,” he hisses out, trying to keep his voice low so as to not wake Eros.

“Why not?” I ask angrily.

“He’s using you,” Carl says, like it’s a proven fact. “You suspect it too. That’s why you haven’t said yes to his proposal.”

I feel defensive, not just for myself, but for Eros too. He has done nothing but try to care for me since I met him. So far, he has treated me better than anyone I have ever known, including Carl.

I throw my hands in the air. “How’s he using me? For my emaciated bank account? For my body? Dude, have you seen him? He doesn’t need to use anyone. What could he be using me for?”

“He’s preying on your innocence.”

I puff out the air in my mouth in dismissal, and my anger simmers to the surface. How dare he brush off that someone wanting me is only because I’m some idiot? I unleash my anger with a voice I rarely use with Carl, or with anyone for that matter. “He could convinceanyoneto do whatever he wants, which probably includes most guys who aren’t into dudes. Why would he go after a financially insignificant, frumpy, and, according to you, stupid woman like me?”

Carl clenches his jaw. “Don’t say things like that about yourself.”

“What’s up with you? You got the bullshit macho mentality all wrong. It isn’t,I don’t want you, so no one else can have you,” I mock in a deeper voice.

“Dee,” he growls and steps closer so that my backside is pressed against the counter. It’s an intimidation tactic, but I don’t believe he will hurt me.

Maybe it’s the way the light hits his eyes, but hurt seems to lurk inside him. Why wouldhebe hurt by my comment?Iwas the one who was rejected five years ago, not him.

“Don’t ‘Dee’ me. You don’t want me.” I glare at him. “So what does it matter to you ifhedoes?”

“I never said I didn’t want you,” he says through gritted teeth.

What the actual hell?

We are so close now that I feel the heat radiating off his skin. Only a couple of inches separate our bodies. With agitation clear in my voice, I snap, “Actually, you said exactly that five years ago, or was I hallucinating when you told me you weren’t interested in a relationship with me?”

“Withanyone,” Carl corrects, his voice tight. I half expect him to crack open down the middle from the tension in his body.

“I’m part of thatanyonecategory.” My rage bubbles to a boiling point. “What is it, really? If I leave,youwon’t be able to use me anymore?” I chuff a sardonic laugh. “You probably get off on me loving you with all that I am and then denying me. You’ve enjoyed leading me on with just enough affection to make me think that maybe one day you will choose me. Well, I’m done being your emotional plaything—your pretend, yet celibate fake wife.”

I try to move past him, but his hands slam down on the counter on either side of me, bracketing me in. I stop and stare at him. What has gotten into him?

His hands fly up and cup my jaw.

Before I can suck in a breath, he kisses me. At first, my brain misfires, trying to make sense of his actions. But then I part my lips on instinct, and he takes the invitation. His kiss is frantic and wild, as if he were trying to make up for the last five years. The pressure is so intense that I swear I will have bruises. However, it’s so overwhelming that I don’t truly enjoy it since I’m trying to play catch up. What is happening?

All these years… and now? It makes little sense. All I needed to do was make him jealous? No. Something feels off.

Is that why I’m not turned on right now? The love of my life is finally kissing me senseless, and I’m all in my head.

Am I in shock?

His hand trails down to my waist and then up again to cup my breast.

That snaps me out of my confusion. I push his hand away and turn my head.

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