Sheer Cupidity: A Standalone Cupidity Romance (Heart Hassle Book 5)

LEX

“So, let’s talk about this murder spree.”

I bite back a groan, wishing I could bury my head in the pillow I’m resting on. Though, there’s really nothing to bury into. It’s the sorriest pillow I’ve ever seen. Just a straw-filled, flattened sack. But at least this inn room has a washbasin and curtains. It’s been three days since we left the seer, and although I’ve mostly stayed in the Veil as we travelled, I opted to go corporeal tonight so I could have some food and sleep for a little reset.

Glancing down at Belren, I take in his silvery silhouette. He’s glowing a bit like my own personal moonlit night-light, and despite the noises I can hear coming from the dining area downstairs, this little room feels removed, far away from anything or anyone else. “For the last time, it’s not a spree.”

I see him smirk where he’s lying down on the wooden floor, body stretching across the whole length of the small room, from the points of his tucked elbows to the soles of his shoes.

“What about this ex-princess everyone detests so much? How did you know her? Seems personal, since you want to go off and kill her.”

“I didn’t really know her,” I hedge. “But every fae I’ve met curses her name for going against the rebellion when she was supposed to be leading it.”

“Yes, the rebellion. Sounds titillating.”

I’m fairly certain he only used that word because the first three letters are t-i-t.

“Admittedly, I didn’t do much research on the rebellion. I know it was mainly about the lesser fae rising up against the high fae for unfair treatment stemming from the laws set forth by the monarchy. But the ex-princess betrayed her loyalty to the lesser fae, and I don’t think they’ll ever forgive her for it.”

He turns his head to look at me, and I worry my lip. It’s a fine line to shepherd Belren’s questions, because I worry that I’ll say too much.

“Still, I don’t get why you are the one who wants to end her. You’re not a lesser fae—you’re not a fae at all. Plus the fact that I’m still not convinced you’re the killing type.”

“You’d be surprised what people are capable of,” I say smartly. “I’ve studied others during my time as a cupid, and I’ve seen ex-lovers go to great lengths to exact revenge on one another. They always seemed to get some satisfaction out of it.”

“And that’s what you want? The satisfaction of revenge?”

“Umm…”

I frown. How am I supposed to explain that the idea came to me simply because I was desperate to stop thinking about him? In theory, by avenging his death and taking down Soora, I thought I could earn some kind of closure. It seemed logical in the moment. And probably slightly unhinged.

“Revenge isn’t really my cup of tea, to be honest.”

“Exactly,” he says, pointing at me. “Which is why I find it so fascinating.”

“Glad I can be entertaining,” I say with a twist of my lips.

Belren looks at me with a sober expression. “You are certainly captivating.”

My breath hitches, and I’m caught in the silvery web of Belren’s gaze. He keeps doing this, keeps saying little things that make my heart race and my mind swirl with warring emotions. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me.”

His brow arches. “Why not?”

“I’m just a cupid. I’m not captivating. Ask any of my previous cupid partners. They’ve all opted to be partnered up with somebody else.”

“Their loss,” he says with a shrug. “I prefer your company.”

I squirm under his reply. I’m not used to being talked to like this. To being watched like he watches me. “Well.” I sniff, trying to dislodge the butterflies in my stomach. “You’re a ghost, so you don’t have a lot of options for companions.”

He laughs. “True. But even if I did, I’d still want you.”

My eyes hook to his.

I’d still want you. Not “I’d still want to be around you.” The distinction of his chosen words makes those butterflies come right back.

I wonder what it was like for him before he found me. By saying what I did back at Ghost Island, I set him off, tied him to this mission, but what if I’d never gone there? I feel as if I nearly failed him, was the cause once again for his downfall, and I hate that feeling.

I don’t deserve the attention he gives me.

“You’re just drawn to me because of this murderous mission,” I say, trying to wave him off. That truth hurts more than I want to admit. I set off his unfinished business trigger. That’s all this is. That’s why he feels drawn to me.

“Keep thinking that, Pinky.” With a shake of his head, Belren settles back down. His body is sheer enough to view the floor beneath him, but solid enough that I can see every bend and crook of his body. I trail my gaze over him as he looks up at the ceiling, his hair not moving an inch, no matter how he lies. His pants are forever tucked into his boots, tunic sleeves taut against his arms. He really is a handsome fae, even as a dead one.

I can only hope that Emelle can de-ghost him, because if she can’t…

No. I won’t think about that.

The two of us lie in silence, and although I burn to know what he’s thinking, I hold my questions back.

Tomorrow, we’re heading to the next island over, which is going to take all day and night. But once we reach it, supposedly we will have a straight shot at one of the islands the seer mentioned, if he can be believed about where the hearth hobs live.

I settle in for sleep with a sigh, my wings tucked in against my body and slightly turned, giving me more padding as I lie on my side. I’m just starting to fall asleep when Belren’s voice rumbles out. “I think it’s time we stop avoiding a certain subject, don’t you?”

My eyes startle open to look at Belren’s face, panic infusing in me. My mind whirls as I wonder how I slipped up. Did he figure out that I knew him when he was alive?

He turns his head to look at me. “We haven’t spoken about the touch.”

Oh. That. Now this topic…this one I’ve been actively ignoring.

When I say nothing, he sits up in one smooth motion, becoming eye level with me and reminding me exactly how small this room really is.

“At the seer’s house, I placed my hand on your leg.”

My heart begins to beat so hard that I can feel it in my throat. “You did.”

Those bright silver eyes of his glow like a cat’s as he watches me, the poignant moment deepening with every blink.

“We don’t need to talk about it,” I blurt.

“Oh, I think we do,” he replies before dragging a knee up and draping his outstretched arm over it in a show of casual comfort, though I know it’s taken him a lot of practice. “In fact, I don’t just think we should talk about it, but I think we should try it again. You’ve been purposely avoiding me ever since.”

I’m frozen on the bed, unable to even shift my head away from the straw poking through the pillow and stabbing into my cheek.

He tilts his head, looking entirely too wolfish. “Can I try to touch you again?”

I blanch. “You want to…to…”

“Touch you, yes.”

Gods, why does it feel like there’s a horse galloping in my chest? Why am I suddenly so hot that I want to throw off the blankets, even as I want to hide beneath them? I should say no. I should turn away and stop this right now. Nothing good can come of this dangerous exploration.

He’s a ghost. I’m a cupid. He’s dead, and I’m… Okay, I’m also technically dead since this is my afterlife, but I’m certainly less dead than he is. Surely that means this is a bad idea.

“I don’t know…” I say with a shake of my head.

Undeterred, Belren inches closer to the bed, taking up all my ability to think logically when he stops right next to me, our faces level with each other.

“Pinky, something is happening here,” he says quietly, his voice slipping around my skin like a cool breeze. “First, I find you at my deathplace. Then, you can see me even when you’re not in the Veil. And now, for some reason, I was able to…touch you, in a way. It doesn’t make sense, does it?”

That, at least, is an easy answer. “No, it doesn’t.” Not at all, and I abhor things that don’t make sense.

His eyes flick down to my mouth for the briefest of moments. “We should try it again then, don’t you think? Test it out?”

I blink, my mind much slower at processing words when he’s this close. “Platonically, you mean? For science?”

Belren’s lips curl up into the most amused smirk that makes my stomach flip. “Sure. We should touch for science.”

Well, I can’t argue with things in the name of science. That wouldn’t be logical. And he’s right. I should stop being a coward about it. It was barely even a touch, after all. We should know what he’s capable of, simply for observation’s sake.

I clear my throat. “Alright, then. It will be an experiment.”

His smirk widens in victory before his eyes move down toward my neck. “If we’re going to try this though, you’re going to need to release the death-grip you’ve got on that blanket and stop wearing it like a noose.”

I glance down and realize with some embarrassment that I am in fact holding the blankets for dear life like a woman worried her virtue is about to be stolen. With great effort, I uncurl my palms and sit up, letting the blanket fall to my lap. I’m dressed in my simple underdress, and while it’s perfectly respectable with sleeves and a long skirt, I feel almost naked.

“It’s hot in here all of a sudden, isn’t it?” I ask, fanning my face.

He gives me a wry look. “I wouldn’t know.”

Oh. Right.

Fidgeting, I cross my legs beneath me and settle my hands in my lap. “So, how do you want to do this?”

He hums beneath his breath and then gets to his feet until he’s towering over me. I tip my head back, a hard swallow coiling down my throat. Was he always this tall?

“Where do you want me to touch you, Lex?” He practically purrs my name out. It’s not just the rasping tone of his voice, but the way the words seem to vibrate through the air. Sensual caress.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, my entire focus on him, on every single movement, every iridescent edge.

As if we weren’t close enough already, Belren perches himself on the bed next to me. Now we’re face-to-face, body-to-body, with only inches between us, and I instinctively scoot back.

He chuckles. “Why are you backing away?”

“Why are you scooting forward?” I retort, my shoulders hitting the wall and scratchy curtain as he eats up all the space that I created.

“Does my being close to you make you nervous?”

I let out a shaky laugh that’s not at all convincing. “Of course not. I’m not nervous. Why would that make me nervous? Nothing to be nervous about.”

Why did that sound so nervous?

His eyes soften. “Just relax.”

A bubble of laughter bursts out of me. Relax. Sure. Like that’s possible. I can’t relax when it comes to this male.

Belren cocks his head, studying me. “Are you more nervous about finding out I can’t touch you…or that I can?”

I can’t admit that both options terrify me for completely different reasons.

Instead, I hold out my hand, palm up. “Just…make it quick,” I tell him, unable to even meet his eye.

“You really are nervous,” he says, as if the very notion bewilders him.

It probably is confusing to him, considering he lacks knowledge of his own history.

“I’d think a cupid wouldn’t be so shy.”

“I’m not shy, I’m just…disagreeable to attention.”

He laughs. “Of course. My mistake.”

After a pause, I jostle my hand, which is still held in front of me. “Are you going to do it?”

Belren leans in. “Shh,” he soothes, his mouth right next to my ear. A shiver travels down the curve of my neck, cooled with his proximity even as my cheeks blaze. “Close your eyes.”

Of course, my eyes widen, head shifting to look at him. “Why do I need to close my eyes?”

“Because I can hear your heart racing, and if you don’t settle down, you’re going to join me from a heart attack.”

I scoff, but he’s not entirely wrong. My pulse really is flying. After a moment’s hesitation, I relent, my lids fluttering shut.

“Breathe,” he murmurs, making another chill scrape down the edge of my back.

“Now I’m taking breathing advice from a ghost,” I mutter.

“Yes, you are,” he lightly admonishes. “So be a good girl and follow directions.”

Well.

My spine straightens. I have a feeling I was a star pupil in my previous life. Why else would I really like hearing him call me a good girl?

I find myself taking deep breaths just like he said, preening a little when he tells me well done.

“That’s better,” he says.

And then I suck in a breath, because I somehow know that he just shifted on the bed, even though there’s no movement on the mattress, no stir in the air. Maybe I’m just so attuned to him I’ve picked up some sort of sixth sense.

There’s a pause, and then his voice comes again, this time from directly in front of me. “Still breathing?”

An exhale puffs out of me. “Yep.”

“Good girl.”

Oh gods. Yep, I think I may have a praise kink.

A newfound blush is probably reddening my entire face, but I’m focused entirely on my hand. It feels so heavy, and I have to repress the urge to fidget.

“Here we go, Pinky.”

All thoughts of breathing go out the window as I hold my breath in anticipation. My entire body is buzzing with it—with the need to feel him again. Even my thigh is tingling from where he touched me before, as if my skin has held an imprint of him ever since.

I wait, brow furrowed, concentrating on my shaky palm and stiff fingers.

But nothing happens.

“Hmm.”

My eyes snap open to see Belren’s hand going right through mine. His hand doesn’t rest against my palm. His fingers don’t skate over my skin.

“I don’t feel anything.” My words come out with blatant disappointment.

Belren’s hand drops. “I suppose it was just a fluke then.”

Never, not once, have I ever heard his voice sound like this. There’s something like defeat in his tone. Like a bitter pill washed down, yet leaving an aftertaste to stain every word on his tongue.

My own hand folds in on itself before falling to my lap. “I suppose so.”

I was terrified of feeling his touch again because of what it might mean for my muddled emotions. But this? This is worse.

“Maybe it had something to do with being at the seer’s house,” I offer.

“Perhaps.” Belren gets to his feet. I may be imagining it, but I swear, some of the luster has gone from his eyes. “Have a good sleep,” he says without looking at me as he heads for the door.

A frown pulls my brows together. “What do you mean? Where are you going?” The worry is evident in my voice, but I don’t care. I don’t like the slump of his shoulders or the look on his face.

“Just going to go for a walk while you sleep.”

“Don’t leave.” The words blurt out of me before I can hold them in.

Belren stops and glances at me over his shoulder. I don’t know what he sees on my face, but whatever it is makes him adopt a smile, though it’s forced. “Don’t worry, Pinky. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

My throat feels tight, my stomach in knots. “You promise?” I ask quietly.

He gives me a nod, eyes full of something I can’t decipher. “Promise.”

With that, he turns and walks through the door, away from my sight, and I’m left alone in the small space that suddenly seems far too big.

For a long time, I lie in bed, trying to tell myself that this is for the best. It’s better this way, because it reminds me that even though we’re together, we still exist on entirely different planes. Whatever happened before was just a fluke. And it’s just as well. Touching would’ve been far too messy, and I prefer an orderly, tidy afterlife.

I remind myself of this over and over again.

The problem is, I’ve begun to crave the mess.