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“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, that was just cute as fuck.” Milo lifts a hand, covering his eyes, so he can hide his face as he continues to eat.
“Tiff hated it,” he grumbles.
“Well, she sounds awful,” I grumble right back, wondering if sending a dark Cupid after her would be going too far.
Think about everything a Cupid would be like and reverse it. While we’re in charge of all the love, flirting, and desire, they cause mischief with jealousy, anger, and betrayal. Dark Cupids are regular Cupids gone wrong. The ones who become obsessed with and abuse their power for selfish reasons. It can be exhilarating to do what we do, but we have to exercise restraint and caution. Too much love is a thing and creates the darkest, most twisted form of obsession. Once they go dark, they never come back to the pink side.
They can be redeemed, but it’s not exactly a fun task, so instead, we work with them in other ways. Sometimes a person doesn’t learn their lesson until they experience the pain they’ve inflicted on others. Undercover Dark Cupids are no joke, man.
“Nah, just… not right for each other,” he murmurs in reply, and I hold in my scoff. She made my sweet little Cooper buddy develop a trauma response to dropping a bowl. She’s trash. But I won’t say that. Not right for each other is a huge understatement, though. She’s not right for any living thing. I’m starting to twitch, as my fingers itch to dial Darcy. Dark Cupid numero uno.
“Sometimes two wrongs make a right,” I say softly, and Milo looks up.
“Yeah. Sometimes.”
We eat in silence after that, and when he finishes his plate, I shoo him off, so I can clean up. I hate being watched while I clean. Makes me antsy.
I’m halfway through the dishes when Bellamy stumbles in. Drunk as a skunk who fell in a jug of moonshine.
“Oh, you’re drunk,” I say, chuckling. He seems like a happy drunk at least. Then he trips and lands hard on the floor—face first. “Oh, heck.” I rush to his side, and he has the nerve to shush me. Loudly.
“Don’t wake up, Milo,” he hisses, and I shake my head.
“You’re the one causing a ruckus,” I inform him, and he laughs, but it’s lacking feeling.
“I’m sloshed. My ex showed up tonight.” Bellamy shakes his head. “With her husband. She knows I own the club. My high school sweetheart…” he tells me. Now, part of my magic has them opening up to me more easily than they would others, but jeez. It’s a night for confessing, I suppose.
Of course, I knew all of this already, but I still pat his chest.
“Well, you know what that tells me?” I ask, and he looks up at me with big amber eyes, framed in dark lashes. Hope and desperation are clear when he’s this drunk. “She’s lonely. He probably flirts with other women, and she was hoping you’d show her some attention tonight. Boost her ego. She’s feeling undesired, and wants you to give that to her.” I shrug, and Bellamy nods.
In a swiftness I didn’t think he’d be capable of in this state, he grips my hips and pulls me onto his lap.
“Woah, buy a girl dinner first!” I joke, despite the nerves. I check to make sure I wasn’t giving off any sexual magic and sigh. Nope, this is just drunk Bellamy.
“Make me forget,” he whispers, and he almost gets me. Almost. But I’m a Cupid, not stupid.
“Oh, hunny, I think that’s what the booze was for. Besides, fucking your best friend's nanny won’t make you feel better. Sure, in the moment… but when you wake up?” I shake my head, lifting one hand off his chest and patting his cheek. “Go to bed. Take water and some aspirin. You’ll need both.” I lean forward. “If you keep this between us, I will too,” I promise because if Milo finds out, he might attempt to fire me. Which would be very annoying.
5
True
The next morning, I’m cooking breakfast for Cooper and making pirate jokes as I pretend my hand is a hook when Bellamy walks into the room, looking better than expected.
Either he wasn’t as bad off as I assumed, or he just recovers well.
He shoots me a wink, as he sips from the coffee he made himself, and I narrow my eyes.
“Does that often work for you?” I hiss, more upset with myself for not noticing than anything else.
“Yes actually. I wasn’t expecting you to jump off my lap and flee, leaving me on the floor, but what can I do?” He shrugs, and I shake my head at him.
“Well played,” I concede and return to cooking.
“I thought so,” he chuckles, and I resist his attempt to pull me into his flirtation. He wants me to be annoyed, so I’ll sass him. We see this in rom-coms all the time. The cute local man is a grump, and the bubbly out-of-towner matches his energy until they’re both ripping each other's clothes off.
I already have the perfect date lined up for him. He needs a little more time to stew in his abstinence, though.
