Can't Fix Cupid

by Raven Kennedy

  Besides, I’m a cupid who’s been temporarily humanized. Pretty soon, I’ll be back where I belong, once again separated from all of this by the endlessness of the Veil.

  Warren Knight is not mine to have.

  He’s not even mine to want.

  But these short moments of life are mine. So why not enjoy them while I can?

  I turn back to Sparrow with a smile. “Sure, I’d love to.”

  When in Rome, right? Or in my case, when in a real body and out of the Veil, during a ticking timeline of impending pop-ness. Something like that, anyway.

  Chapter 19

  Trix

  With Sparrow’s hand firmly on my waist, he leads me all the way to the back where there’s a door ajar. We walk out into the cool beach air, and I see fire pits and canopy gazebos set up. There are speakers installed on the outside of the building to echo the music from inside the club, and if it’s possible, people are partying out here even harder than they were inside.

  “There they are,” Sparrow says as he pulls me towards one of the fire pits to the right.

  We approach a group of people hanging out by the fire, all of them with drinks in their hands as they talk and make out and laugh.

  My eyes immediately light up when I notice they’re passing around a joint. “Oh my gods! Is that weed? Trying that is on my to-do list.”

  Sparrow chuckles and looks around at his group of friends. “Hey guys, this is Trix. Trix, this is everyone.”

  Everyone tosses back heys and what’s ups as I wave.

  “Hit me with one, man,” Sparrow tells one of the guys.

  The guy digs into his pocket and passes over a new joint. Sparrow puts it against the flames of the fire to light it, and then holds it out to me. I study it before holding it between my fingers.

  I look up at him expectantly. “How do I do it?”

  “Just put it between your lips and suck, baby.” He laughs, and although I know he’s trying to be cute again like at the bar, now he’s just making me want to roll my eyes.

  But I really do want to try it, so I nod in understanding and then place the joint between my lips and suck in.

  I immediately start coughing from the consuming, searing smoke, making everyone laugh around me. As I continue to cough, eyes burning, a little bit of pink Lust escapes from my lips.

  I think Sparrow gets hit with some of the unintentional desire I just hacked up, because his blue eyes darken. “Here,” he says, his voice low. “Let me.”

  He takes a drag for himself, holding it in for a few seconds, and then slowly blows the smoke against my lips. Closing my eyes, I breathe it in, curious to see what effect it will have. He does that several more times, and soon, I can feel a buzz tingling my brain.

  Before I know what hits me, I’m suddenly sitting in his lap next to the fire, and I’m giggling at a story that a guy named Spike is telling everybody. Weirdly enough, I have no idea what he’s actually saying, because every time my brain tries to focus on it, I get distracted by the sparks drifting off the fire, and then I lose the meaning of his words.

  “So pretty,” I say as my hands flutter in the air, trying to dance with the sparks.

  “She’s totally trashed, man,” I hear somebody laugh.

  My brain feels like it’s flying, and I keep talking without meaning to. Like right now… I think I’m saying something about missing my red wings, but I can’t remember if I’m actually talking or if the sound is just in my head and my lips are tricking me.

  “Tricky lips, tricky lips, tricky lips,” I hear myself saying. “Trix’s lips. Trix’s tricky lips. Tricky Trix lips.” I giggle, and then gasp. “Oh, shit. I’m high, aren’t I?” I ask. “Is this what high feels like? It’s weird. Weird. Weird. That word is weird. Weird word. Word weird. Wording weirdly weird words…”

  Oh for fuck’s sake, I can’t stop.

  I feel Sparrow chuckling beneath me, just as something firm yet a little sweaty slides up along the inside of my thigh.

  My head lolls against my chest as I look down, but my eyes are having a little trouble focusing. When my double-vision realigns, I gasp at what I see. “Your hand is totally up my dress right now,” I whisper to him, as if he didn’t know.

  “Your skin is fucking soft,” he murmurs in my hair as his lips start nuzzling into my neck.

  Whoa.

  My head is spinning. His hand is touching my thigh, going higher and higher. My brain is going off like sparklers, and alcohol is still saturated in my system. People’s voices are all around me, distorted and loud against the pulsing music from the speakers.

  My head feels spinny, and I suddenly find that I desperately need a pause button. I need to think. I need my brain to be capable of thinking again.

  “You’re so damn sexy, baby,” I hear Sparrow say.

  No, this is wrong. This is all wrong.

  I know I added sex on my to-do list, but this doesn’t feel right.

  “Wait…” I murmur as I try to squint my eyes and force myself to focus. But my brain is not working right, and everything is distorted. I can’t tell how far away the fire is, or if Sparrow now has two hands up my skirt, or what any of the people in the group are talking about.

  Alarm bells are going off in my head, but every time I try to latch on and understand what’s happening, it drifts away. All the while, Sparrow continues to blow more smoke into my face, and I get more and more fucked up.

  When his fingers brush against my panties and start pulling them aside, right there in front of everyone, my whole body tenses.

  “Wait,” I say, as I try to grab his wrist to stop him.

  I don’t think I want him to touch me there. I suddenly regret all the drinks I had and the weed I’ve inhaled. Paranoia sets in. I don’t know any of these people. I need Blue or Bea. I need Hum Judy or her guys. I need Warren.

  “Who are they?” Sparrow asks, letting me know I’ve spoken aloud.

  “My…” I can’t even finish my sentence before I trail off, unable to string together more words. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to get the world to stop spinning.

  “Let me make you feel good, baby.”

  I don’t like him calling me baby. I don’t like him touching me either.

  When I feel his fingers dip under my panties, panic consumes me. I jerk away violently from his lap, causing me to go crashing down on my hands and knees as I fall to the ground. I cry out in pain, and Sparrow quickly jumps up to help me back on my feet.

  “Shit, dude. She’s totally fucked up. You should get her out of here,” an echoing voice says.

  My whole body is one continuous tremor.

  “Relax, baby,” Sparrow tells me smoothly as his arm wraps around my waist. “Let’s get out of here, and I’ll take care of you.”

  I know he doesn’t mean that in the way that Warren took care of me.

  Fear clings around my heart with sharp claws as trepidation rises up my throat like a lump. But the world is moving too fast for me. Spinning, spinning, spinning. My brain can’t form a proper response.

  Scared, I try to shake my head to rid myself of the fogginess. My mouth feels dry, my heart is racing, but his hands are already around me, and he’s walking me towards the gated parking lot. I try to get out of his grasp, but he has a firm hold on me, and I keep stumbling in my shoes.

  “No… I’m not…” I shake my head again, but it only makes the spinning worse. “I don’t want to...please...just stop.”

  “Relax baby,” he purrs. “I got you.”

  “She said fucking stop.”

  The cold voice halts Sparrow in his tracks.

  He turns around, taking me with him, and I have to squint at the sight. With the fire pit burning behind him, all I can see is a dark silhouette of a menacing shadow looming before us like a beautiful demon from hell.

  I sob in relief at the sight of him.

  I try to go to Warren, but Sparrow’s fingers dig into my waist, holding me back.

  The looming sh
adow strides forward inordinately slowly—or maybe that’s just what my foggy brain is interpreting.

  It seems like it takes ages until he’s finally standing before us, and I can see the wrath on Warren Knight’s face. “Let her go, and walk away.”

  Sparrow tenses but doesn’t release me from his grasp.

  “Who the fuck are you, man?” Sparrow spits. “Why don’t you go back inside and pick up a chick of your own?”

  “She’s mine.”

  She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.

  His voice spins and churns in my head, bouncing off the tingling crevices of my skull and making my pulse race.

  Did he actually say that, or did I imagine it?

  I watch his face desperately, but Warren’s dark eyes are so cold that they make me shiver.

  “I’m not going to tell you again,” he says with clear menace in his tone. “Let her go and walk away now, or you’re going to regret it because I’ll fucking ruin you.”

  Holy skid mark.

  I’ve seen him pissed. I’ve seen him rigid. I’ve seen him be a total asshole. But I’ve never seen him filled with as much heated fury as he is right now.

  Maybe Sparrow senses the dark promise behind Warren’s gaze, or maybe he’s just not much of a fighter. Either way, he finally drops his hands from my body, letting me go.

  “What the fuck ever,” he says as he looks over at me, his blue eyes scathing. “Fucking whore,” he spits at me, making me flinch, before turning and stalking away.

  I continue to watch Warren, whose hands are fisted at his sides, but his eyes don’t leave Sparrow until he disappears into the parking lot. Then his dark eyes finally settle on me, and I swallow hard at the expression on his face.

  It’s anger still, but there’s also something else, and it takes a moment for me to realize what it is. Fear. Warren was worried about me.

  My heart pounds with each step that Warren takes as he crowds my space.

  I inadvertently back up because of the magnitude of his intensity. When I try to take another step back, my ankle twists on these damn platinum shoes, and I almost go down. I would have if it weren’t for the fact that Warren is suddenly there, scooping me into his arms.

  I was mad at him. I was hurt. Confused.

  But despite all of that, I feel entirely safe in his arms. Just like the night I was sick, I know I’ll be okay with him. My instincts assure me of that fact.

  I settle against his chest, my hand curling into the fabric of his shirt like I never want to let him go. And shit, he smells so damned good. Burrowing my nose closer, I smell him unashamedly.

  I indulge again and again. If I could, I’d bathe in a bottle of Warren Knight.

  “Stop sniffing me,” he snaps, since he’s still definitely mad at me. But it’s like a worried mad. Not a mad mad. Not an asshole mad. Just...protective mad.

  Huh. I never realized how many mads there really were before this moment. There’s a hungry mad, frantic mad, impatient mad, probably even a sex mad. Mad, mad, mad.

  I nuzzle into him and sniff him again. “The sense of smell is totally cool, isn’t it?” I ask a bit dreamily.

  He pauses for a beat as he continues to carry me, my body bobbing along with his steps. “Sure,” he says in a clipped tone. Because, you know, he’s mad.

  “If you think about it, smelling is, like, inhaling for your brain. Like a brainhale. You give such a good brainhale, Warren Knight.”

  I shove my face further against his chest and close my eyes so that I can really let my sniffs take over all my senses.

  Ahhh. Damn, that’s nice.

  “You smell like wood chips and jazz music and smirks.”

  A noise that sounds like a startled laugh escapes his chest. “You’re stoned out of your mind, aren’t you?”

  “Yup,” I say popping my P. I do it a few more times because the sound is like a concert on my lips. “And you know what? I’m not a fan of the being of the high. Which is ironic, considering I’m a natural flyer,” I tell him.

  He mumbles something that I don’t catch, because I’m suddenly too focused on petting his jaw scruff. Part of my brain realizes I probably shouldn’t be doing this, because it’s not polite to pet people without permission, but I just can’t stop myself. “You got good scruff,” I tell him. “It’s, like, a solid soft-to-scratchy ratio. I give you an A.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  I yawn. Holy blue balls, I’m sleepy.

  When I pull my eyes open again, he’s placing me gently in the front seat of his car. I have no idea where his date went, but I’m so glad she’s gone.

  “Where’d the blonde go?” I ask.

  “I put her in a cab when I saw you talking to that douche at the bar,” he says tersely as he buckles me in.

  Surprise slowly filters through me. His words echo in my head again. She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I wasn’t interested,” he answers before shutting the door with a snap.

  My head lolls over on the seat so that I can watch him as he walks around the car and then slips into the driver’s side.

  As he pulls the car out onto the road, I watch as the lights from the other cars illuminate his brooding demeanor, making the hard planes of his face seem even sharper. He’s so achingly beautiful.

  “Thank you for saving me,” I whisper, the words seeping through the space between us.

  He looks over at me, the furious glare still very much present in his eyes. “That was a completely stupid thing to do, Trix,” he admonishes me. He’s gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles are white with strain. “If I hadn’t been there…” he trails off, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenches his teeth.

  I don’t want him to be angry with me. I don’t want him to have that wild fear in his gaze anymore. I put that there, and I want to take it away.

  I reach over and gently let my fingertips graze the dark line of his jaw. “I’m okay,” I tell him gently. “I’m okay because of you.”

  I watch as his eyes squeeze shut for a moment, pain evident in the creases. A sigh escapes him, the exhale filled with shaky relief, and then his posture finally relaxes.

  This. This right here is the Warren beneath the mask. This is the Warren I love.

  Dammit.

  I love him.

  I realize that fact with stark, stunning clarity, despite the fuzziness of everything else. I think I’ve loved him since the day I first saw him, stuck behind the unhappiness of his own mask. There was something about him that always drew me in like a moth to a mesmerizing flame.

  Just as I realize the truth of my feelings, I also realize the truth of my reality.

  I’m leaving.

  This world, it doesn’t belong to me. I’m simply passing through, lucky enough to have this short reprieve with the living.

  But I’m not meant to have love. I’m meant to give it.

  And that...that’s the most heartbreaking truth of my entire existence. That’s the danger I never considered. I was so wrapped up in fixing my own cupidity and in matching other people’s hearts, that I didn’t acknowledge I had a heart of my own.

  Suddenly filled with sadness, I scoot over and gently rest my head on his shoulder, because even though he’s right here next to me, I miss him. I haven’t felt the imminence of my ticking clock as much as I feel it right now.

  He goes rigid for a moment as I rest against him, until he relaxes with a sigh, my name passing through his lips like a prayer.

  I breathe in this moment, because I know it’s fleeting, and I know I don’t have much longer.

  “You’re a good man, Warren Knight,” I tell him.

  He shakes his head at me, but then he lifts his arm and settles it behind my back so he can pull me in closer, and I relish in the touch. Unlike with Sparrow, this feels right. It feels perfect.

  A contented sigh spills out of me as I let my eyes flutter closed. “I wish I could stay here,”
I hear myself saying quietly. “I wish I could stay with you. But I can’t.”

  All-encompassing sadness seeps into me just as exhaustion decides to pull me under. Right before I drop off to sleep, I swear I feel his lips on my hair at the same time that a tear falls from my eye.

  Chapter 20

  Trix

  I have a major sense of déjà vu when I wake up once again in Warren Knight’s bed.

  But this time, instead of him getting mad and bailing, he comes in and places some clothes on the bed right alongside a tray of breakfast.

  I sit up, grateful that I feel like myself again. My hair smells like smoke, and I have a headache from all the alcohol I consumed, but other than that, I feel good. At least my brain stopped tingling.

  “Go ahead and eat, and there’s some aspirin for your head if you need it,” Warren tells me. “You’re welcome to shower and get ready. We need to leave in about an hour.”

  I tilt my head curiously as I reach out and start guzzling the orange juice on the breakfast tray. “Where are we going?” I ask after a hearty gulp.

  “You’re supposed to meet with Tonya today to take photos for the marketing campaign that you agreed to, remember?”

  “I forgot about that. I better remind Blue.”

  Warren shakes his head. “Harvey is already bringing her in.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  An awkward silence stretches between us as we look at each other.

  Emotions swirl under my skin. Somewhere in all the time I spent watching Warren, I went past infatuation and straight into catching feelings without even realizing it. Seems silly that love is literally my job, and yet I didn’t even recognize it in myself.

  I glance nervously at Warren, wishing more than ever that I could know what he’s thinking as he looks steadily back at me.

  “You could’ve gotten really hurt last night,” he finally says.

  There’s no anger in his face anymore, just stoicism.