Page 50 of Coveted By Cupid

My photographs with my grandpa are displayed throughout the living space, carefully placed for me to see when using the living room.

Shaking, I head into the master bedroom and go into the closet. I open one box. Sure as shit, it’s my clothes. In the bathroom, I pull open a drawer from the vanity and find my toiletries amongst Cupid’s. And when I head toward the bed and open the nightstand, I gasp.

My dildo—the one I named Cupid the other day as a joke, the one he used to taunt me when he broke into my apartment.

My anxiety rising, I stumble out of the bedroom. Everywhere I look, I find my things mixed among Cupid’s items.

My god. Cupid moved me in while I was out cold.

CHAPTER TWENTY

VANESSA

I’m seconds away from breaking into a panic attack when I hear the door down the hall between the kitchen and bedrooms open—the one I had yet to explore.

Cupid comes around the corner in athletic gear and a sheen of sweat coating his skin, looking every bit of the Roman god he’s named after. He obviously has come back from a workout, and I would drool at the sight of him if I wasn’t alarmed with him uprooting me from my life.

When he sees me standing in the middle of his living room among all my things, he freezes. His eyes are wide as if he wasn’t expecting me.

Well, I wasn’t expecting to be here either.

Neither of us says anything for a hot minute until I break the silence. My voice is barely above a whisper. “What’s happening?”

Guarded, Cupid steps forward, like he’s afraid he’ll frighten me and I’ll run.

News flash: I’m already scared out of my mind. A man I barely know has moved me into his place without my consent. That’s Dateline newsworthy scary shit.

“Butterfly,” Cupid says cautiously in a deep voice. “Welcome to your new home.”

“My home?” I shake my head, backing away from him. “No, I have my own place, an apartment back in Fort Collins.”

Cupid shakes his head, his expression stern. “Not anymore.”

“Not anymore?” I parrot in confusion, my voice increasing an octave in fear. “What do you mean, not anymore?”

He follows me around the room, refusing to give me space. “I mean, you live here now—with me.”

I shake my head, panic mode activated. “No, no, no. I didn’t agree to this.”

“I never asked for your permission.”

“No shit! Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”

“How could I? You passed out after being attacked. I needed to move you to safety.”

I blink, letting his words sink in. “You brought me here to protect me?”

He nods, his face softening a fraction. “Of course. I want you safe.”

I let out a sigh of relief, placing my hand on my chest where my heart had been racing seconds ago. “Oh, thank God. My mind went a little wild there for a second. I get it now. This is a temporary arrangement.”

Cupid raises an eyebrow. “Temporary?”

“Yeah, as soon as the police find the creeps who tried to take me, it’ll be safe for me to move back into my apartment. I mean, I appreciate you packing up all my stuff to make sure I had everything I needed while staying here with you. But you probably didn’t need to move everything, like my kitchen stuff. I’d be fine without it for the time being. Although I’m glad you brought my grandpa’s mug. That’s my favorite.”

My biker groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You think this is temporary?”

His words confuse me. “Isn’t it?”