Happily Evan After

by Fleur Smith

  “I thought you said you didn’t have the equipment?” she screeched.

  She’d seemed to accept and adapt to the whole cupid thing rather well, so well in fact that Evan was more than a little surprised at her horrified reaction to her latest discovery. He probably shouldn’t have been though. He knew enough to realize that it was his body’s reaction to her proximity had made the difference. Trying to see it from her side of this, he understood that she probably thought he’d lied to her about the fact that cupids usually hung as flaccid as an old sock. It had to be making her wonder what else he’d lied about.

  What he wanted to tell her though was that it hadn’t been a lie. There was just something different about her. He wasn’t sure how to explain that to her without giving away too much about the depth of his growing attraction though. Because if she reacted badly to feeling his erection against her hip, she would most likely flip completely if he told her he thought he might have been falling in love with her—or at least with the likeness she bore to a love from his past.

  “Get out!” The way her teeth clenched around the words made them sound venomous. Rage and hatred swirled in her eyes and then, without warning, those emotions were all he felt rippling through his body.

  At first it felt like someone had stabbed his heart, but pins and needles soon spread into his limbs and he stumbled forward. Her emotions overwhelmed those of all his previous matches combined. Those past whispers of love usually helped to counterbalance any negativity he experienced, and without them, his body crumbled under the weight of Becca’s rage. He was powerless, more than he’d ever been before in his cupid life—even the brief period when he’d given up the job.

  “What are you doing?” she practically growled as he stumbled and fell forward onto one knee.

  “Tell me about your first crush,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

  “What?”

  “Please, tell me about your first crush and then I’ll leave if you want. I just can’t right now.”

  “What’s wrong?” the tone of her voice had shifted from anger to concern, but concern wasn’t enough to give him the strength he needed to overcome the sensation of being stabbed repeatedly by a thousand hypodermic needles. He needed love or happiness, something stronger that he could latch onto and multiply for his own needs.

  “Please?” he whispered.

  “Bobby Cole,” she said finally. “I was twelve and had only just started to find boys attractive.”

  “What happened?” he asked with as much strength and volume as he could muster.

  “I got over him real fast when I found out he’d kissed Sherri Cooper.”

  “First boyfriend? How did you meet?”

  She started to tell the story of the beginning of her first proper relationship, but Evan wasn’t listening to the words, he was searching for the emotions hidden beneath the surface. Even relationships that ended in heartbreak typically started with love—or at least some weakened version of it.

  Once Becca began to radiate with that love, instead of hatred over Evan’s little omission of little Evan’s proclivity to stand ready for action, he pushed through the pain and reached for her arm.

  Barely brushing his fingertips over her skin, he used the small spark that she’d found in the memory of the start of first love to give him strength. He absorbed it and sent it radiating back into her, just like he had with Karen. As the spark grew, so did Evan’s strength, until he was able to stand again.

  He’d barely made it completely to his feet when Becca’s body collided with his. Less than a second later, her lips were pressed firmly against his. Taken aback for a moment by the shock of the moment, it didn’t take Evan long to wrap his arms around her waist and deepen the kiss in response. Once more, certain parts of his body reacted to her proximity in a very stiff manner.

  Becca’s fingers trailed through his hair as she dragged her nails over his scalp.

  Almost as quickly as she’d attacked him, Becca jumped away. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

  Evan tried to fight the smile that longed to grace his lips. Every nerve in his body was practically singing at the emotions swirling around him. Although he knew what caused her reaction, he was willing to imagine for a moment that it was intended for him. “I do.”

  She blinked rapidly and focused on him again.

  “This is going to sound strange, but I promise if you hear me out, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you want.”

  He took Becca’s continued silence as an authorization to continue.

  “Emotions give me strength, but they can also weaken me. When you . . . when you were angry before, it weakened me. Hate is like my kryptonite.”

  “That doesn’t explain—” She cut herself off and pressed her fingertips against her lips. “Well, what happened just now.”

  He was drawn to the sight of her mouth, to her lips the color of rubies nestled amongst a sea of honey-bronze skin. His tongue slicked across his own lips as the memory of the kiss stole his breath away for a moment.

  “Well?” she asked, tapping her foot and raising an eyebrow.

  “Love is one of the strongest emotions there is, and as a cupid I can strengthen it. You know, cupid’s arrow and all that.”

  “So that’s real?”

  “In a sense.”

  “Every time I think I’m finally getting a handle on all the weirdness you encompass, you find some way to take it to a whole new level.”

  He would have felt guilt over the confusion he’d caused in her, except she seemed to be talking to him again in a way that wasn’t full of hatred or demanding that he leave. He was willing to gloss over the anger if she wasn’t going to bring it up again.

  “Feeling such a strong burst of love, especially one without direction or aim, can lead to, well, you know.” He scratched his scalp again, hoping his explanation made sense to her. It barely made sense to him, but again he felt the overall rightness of his statement radiate through his body.

  “So what you’re saying is no matter how much you do something that might piss me off, I can’t get angry with you or you’ll keel over?”

  “Not quite keel over, but it’ll cause a lot of pain.”

  Her lips quirked upward to form a slightly-evil looking smirk. “That’s good to know.”

  “Good?”

  “Well now I know how to deal with you if you piss me off too much. Trust me, if you get me that angry, you’ll deserve the pain.” She winked at him.

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re a dangerous woman?”

  She grinned. “All the time.” Her hands came to rest on her hips. “Now, about your other issue, I thought you said it didn’t work?”

  He looked down at his crotch which had thankfully deflated as they were talking. “It usually doesn’t.”

  “Why does it now then?”

  “I’ve been asking myself that same question.” It wasn’t completely a lie, and if he’d said it was because she reminded him so desperately of his long-lost love, he was certain she’d have him doubled over in agony in less than a heartbeat.

  She seemed to assess him for a moment, her emerald gaze trailing from his feet to the top of his head.

  “Okay.” She shrugged before walking back to the changing bag.

  “Okay.” He blinked in confusion at her turnaround, but he wasn’t going to argue with it. Not now that she knew the power she could wield over him.

  She gave him an awkward smile as she got back to work.

  He stood and stared, not knowing exactly what to do next. Part of him longed to go back to being cloaked just so that he could avoid the occasional sideward glances that Becca gave him.

  Eventually, she turned her gaze to him fully and sighed. “Look if you’re going to hang around, do you think you could at least do something useful? Like get some food?”

  He could easily recall the state of her fridge—empty. “What do you want? I’ll pop out and get somethi
ng.” He wasn’t sure he was allowed to use his ability to transverse great distances in the blink of an eye for his own personal benefit, but he argued that it wasn’t really for his benefit. What could happen if Becca didn’t eat? She might go into a hypoglycemic coma or something. It was for her benefit that he needed to use his ability.

  “Surprise me,” she said as she buried her hands back into the change bag. She concentrated on the contents for a second before seeming to think of something else. “And none of that hopping about without a car nonsense. Take the ‘Stang. The keys are on the counter.”

  He frowned. “There’s just one problem.”

  She looked up from what she was doing. “Which is?”

  “I don’t drive.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t drive?” The concept seemed completely foreign to Becca.

  “I did once upon a time.” Another lifetime ago. “But not anymore.”

  “Isn’t it like riding a bike?”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure I’d remember how to do that either.”

  “Why not?” Becca regarded him with her head tilted in confusion.

  “It’s been a while.”

  “How long exactly has it been since you last did either?”

  Evan chewed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure whether to go for broke and tell her everything, or keep it inside and retain that air of mystery that he was failing so miserably at already.

  “A little over fifty years.”

  Becca chuckled. “Sorry, I thought you just said fifty.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fifty?”

  “Yep.”

  “Fifty years? Half a century? Really?”

  He could tell she was struggling with the concept. He supposed it was a long time for someone without eternity in front of them to comprehend. Sometimes it felt like a long time even with that.

  “You don’t talk like someone who is old enough to have been around for fifty years.”

  “I’ve been around long enough to know to keep my conversational skills in vogue with my assignments.”

  “Well, I guess you’re looking good for it?”

  He was certain it was supposed to come out as a complimentary statement, but her voice lifted at the end, making it sound like a question.

  Screw it, he thought. I’ve said too much already, I may as well tell her it all. “Yeah, I haven’t aged a day since I died.”

  “Died?” Her voice was pinched and high, but it was clear she was trying to appear calm and collected. Evan would have found it funny if he wasn’t worried that she might suddenly snap.

  “Yep.”

  “Died. And then came back?”

  “Yep.”

  “As a cupid?”

  He smiled what he hoped was a winning smile that would ease the information for her. He wasn’t sure why exactly he was telling her everything except that, well it felt nice to have someone else to talk to about it all.

  “How—” She stopped and cleared her throat. “How exactly did . . . well, you know.”

  “How did I die?”

  She nodded. Her lips were tucked between her teeth and her mouth was the thinnest line across her face. She looked a little ashen, but otherwise appeared to be okay with everything he told her.

  “I fell off a cliff.”

  “You fell off a . . . of course. And you’re sure you died?”

  “Pretty sure, yeah. Normal, living people can’t do this.” He disappeared from where he’d been standing and reappeared on the other side of her along the counter.

  “Yeah, you’re right, normal, living peop—” She slid from her chair in shock. As Evan caught her, he cursed himself for sharing too much too fast and pushing her brain so far beyond what a normal human could be expected to comprehend.

  Or maybe she’s slipped into that hypoglycemic coma because I didn’t feed her fast enough. Evan didn’t know whether Becca even suffered from low blood sugar, his cupid abilities only related to emotions, not medical conditions.

  He was going to try to do the chivalrous thing and carry her up to her bed where she could recover in her own time. However, he couldn’t lift her. It wasn’t that Becca was overly heavy, more that even before he’d become a cupid, Evan hadn’t been the most macho man. He’d been a bit of a greaser and something of a young punk—more comfortable in a garage than a gym. Once upon a time, he’d even been intimately familiar with engines the way he now was with relationships. At no point had he ever been strong enough to sweep a girl off her feet.

  Knowing that wishing for bigger muscles was a lost cause when nothing ever changed for him, Evan did what he could. He helped guide Becca’s unconscious form to the ground as gently as he could so that at least she could avoid smashing her head on the tiles. By the time she was on the cold floor, she was already starting to rouse.

  She took one look at Evan and started to laugh hysterically.

  When Becca had found herself prone on the floor, there had been a moment where she’d been so certain everything that had happened during the day was all a dream. That illusion had been shattered the instant she opened her eyes and met Evan’s hazel gaze. Once that had happened, the events of the day came flooding back and she wondered whether she’d gone mad.

  Completely stark raving bonkers! She laughed at the thought, and couldn’t stop.

  “Are you okay?” Evan asked. His concern gave her the push she needed to cut off her mindless laughter.

  She pushed herself up and he helped her into a sitting position. “What happened?”

  “I think it might have been a bit too much too soon. Either that or the insulin in your system isn’t self-regulating properly.”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you have a history of low blood sugar?”

  Becca really wanted to follow the conversation, but she was lost. She’d been unable to comprehend much of what Evan had said since he’d refused to take the car. “What?”

  “Never mind.” Evan helped her to her feet. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yeah, it’s just a hell of a lot to cope with. Just this morning, I was a normal person with a normal life, and now I’m stuck with a supernatural stalker who’s been dead for over fifty years.”

  “Well, I couldn’t exactly be a supernatural stalker if I wasn’t dead, could I?”

  In spite of herself, a half-smile crossed Becca’s lips. “I guess not. You’d just be a regular one then wouldn’t you?”

  “Don’t be so full of yourself to think that I’d be here if I didn’t have to be,” Evan said.

  Although his tone indicated that he’d meant it as a joke, it echoed with something deep inside Becca, a part of herself that she didn’t like very much or acknowledge often. The part that was still a little girl screaming out that she wasn’t good enough to be loved. She exhaled heavily, blowing out the doubt, and drew an inward breath to draw in positivity. It was a technique she’d learned years ago. It was wishy-washy, but it worked for her.

  He brushed his hand over her arm reassuringly. “Who am I kidding? I think I’d still be here. Although you probably would have been more inclined to call the police.”

  “I probably still should.”

  “And tell them what exactly?” he teased. “I’d be hidden before they arrived.”

  “Exactly what I was worried about. Just so long as you know that my desire not to end up in a psych ward is the only reason I haven’t called them.”

  “Sure, that’s the only reason.”

  Becca realized that there were more reasons, reasons she didn’t want to examine very much and definitely would never share with Evan. She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself, but she was drawn to him. It was almost as if there were two hands planted firmly on the base of her spine giving her a hard shove in his direction—she just didn’t know why. She was willing to put it down to the fact that he was love incarnate and even though she’d never admit it to anyone else—not even to Cathy—she was
lonely. And desperate. Desperate enough to trust the cupid at least.

  She crossed her arms and turned to him. “You know what? If this is going to work I think we need to lay down some ground rules.” She didn’t give Evan a chance to agree or refuse before she launched into the list that was circling her mind. “One: you don’t fix me up with anyone unless I give you my explicit approval. Two: you’re not allowed to pop in and out of rooms or cars or anything else. I’ll give you driving lessons if I have to, but I can’t have you popping from place to place or I’ll probably end up having a heart attack before you find me love. Three: you can’t be invisible around me, if you’re at my side I need to know you’re there.”

  “What about at work? I can’t just follow you around there.”

  “Why would you need to be at work?”

  “Because you never know when you might meet Mister Right. I’ve set many couples up at the workplace.”

  She sighed. “Okay, you can be invisible beside me while I’m at work, but you have to keep out of everyone’s way.” And there is a sentence that I never even dreamed I’d ever have to utter. “But when we’re here at my house you’re visible. I don’t care how much you can learn about me by the type of toilet paper I use, I don’t want you to watch me pee.”

  He grinned. “Actually, there’s no need to watch you in the act to determine what I need to know about you from your toilet paper habits. Although, it might be helpful if I know whether you fold or scrunch.” He laughed to show he was joking.

  “You know, this is so crazy I might need to be institutionalized before it’s through, but I actually think you and I will get along fine.”

  “I know we will.” Evan slung his arm over her shoulder. “So what’s for dinner?”

  “How about you just order in some Chinese? I’ll finish up down here and then we can eat.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Evan left her alone in the darkroom, but she could barely concentrate. There was so much going through her head. While she set the two rolls of film in the developing tank, and even as she ran through the now-routine steps of pouring each of the chemicals into the tank in turn, her mind kept returning to the guy upstairs. She could hear his feet moving around and a few times it almost seemed like they paused outside the door at the top of the basement stairs, but he never entered.