“Our job is not to haunt the living. You’re not a damn ghost!”
“I know, I know,” I say wearily.
And I do know this, but for some reason, I can’t seem to stop. Not when it comes to him. My eyes hook onto him as the waitress returns, bringing his dessert. He digs into it faster than a pirate shoveling buried treasure.
“It’s our job to spread love and desire,” she goes on. She doesn’t like to miss out on an opportunity to lecture me. Maybe she was a manager during her life. Or a drill sergeant. “And we’re supposed to do it together,” she stresses.
I huff out some built-up frustration. “But that’s the thing—we don’t really do it together, do we?” I challenge. “Every successful Love or Lust Match we’ve had was all because of you. I’ve been completely and totally useless.”
“That’s not true…”
She’s so unconvincing that she winces as she says it, like her face can feel the lie leaking out of her.
“Do I need to blow some Lust again?” I ask, waving a hand at the table I just anti-desire bombed.
“Please don’t.”
“See? We both know I’m a disaster. I can’t make my quotas, which means you’re doing yours and mine.”
“Which is why you should stop ditching me all the time to follow this jerk around. Why have you made it your afterlife’s mission to get him to fall in love? There are plenty more people out there. Even when I tried to do it, we couldn’t get anything to stick with this guy. He’s a lost cause.”
Once again, my eyes flicker over to Knight. He has little bits of meringue stuck to his bottom lip as he continues to eat. My heart swells watching him, and not just because he’s handsome, but because of what Cupid One Hundred Sixteen just said. Lost cause. That’s what he is. Just like me. He’s a failure at relationships; I’m a failure as a cupid. So here I am, determined to give him love so that I can fix both of us.
“I’m going to get him to fall in love if it’s the last thing I do,” I say with steely determination.
One Hundred Sixteen gives me a disappointed look. “Fine. Then why don’t you let me try to—”
“No,” I say quickly, cutting her off. “I want to do it. Me. It has to be me.”
She looks at me guiltily. I can see in her face that she’s trying to figure out how to tell me that, despite my best fricken efforts, I can’t do it. I can’t be the cupid he needs me to be. For whatever reason, my powers suck. They always have. Hers come so effortlessly it makes me want to cry.
“I’ll figure something out,” I vow.
Because I want to be a good cupid, dammit. I’ve wanted to be a good cupid since I woke up in the afterlife and picked cupidity as my new job. I was supposed to have an affinity for this, so why can’t I make just one damn Love Match to save my afterlife? It’s like the Veil is mocking me.
I’m absolutely convinced that Mr. Worst-Asshole-Bachelor, Warren Knight, needs to find the love of his life. For some reason, I have a feeling that he’s the key to everything. If I can just help him get his happily ever after, then everything will be alright.
I just need to get this asshole to fall in love first.
Chapter 2
Katie Asspants Welsh is annoying the cupid-loving shit out of me.
She sits there, right in the front row like always, wearing her tight asspants that show off every curve of her cheeks, and completely ignoring today’s lecture.
I’ve been coming to this university since I first got assigned to the human realm, and this chick is the bane of my existence.
Okay, not really. But she does annoy me. Like right now, she’s sitting front and center in Professor Sokolov’s class of Comparative World Mythology 340. But is she paying attention? No. Is she ever paying attention? Double no.
She’s not even pretending to pay attention to the lecture, which, by the way, is very interesting. Instead, she’s either scrolling lazily on her phone, looking at pictures of beautiful people, or holding primp sessions with her compact mirror.
“Katie, pay attention!” I snap at her, while Professor Sokolov continues talking about Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom. Katie has no hope of following in her footsteps if she treats all her learning opportunities this way.