Cupid's Perfect Choice

2. Cupid Is Real

Rule number four: When in a dream and about to meet your future spouse, be smooth, goddammit.

Be cool, Hannah. Flirt, but not in a slutty way. Just try to be yourself and charm your future husband's pants right off.

"Ta da!" Jack pushes the door open and I'm greeted with an empty room.

"A wall. I'm gonna marry a white wall? Pretty." I smile and tilt my head to my right shoulder sarcastically.

"Umm... sorry." He clears his throat awkwardly before shutting the door with a frown. Shutting his eyes, Jack focuses this time and opens the door again. I gasp.

Holy shit. Handsome. Hot. Sexy. Gorgeous. And every other word in the book that gives tingles, really.

"This is your future husband." He grins like an idiot as I take a look at the picture in on the wall across from me with an open mouth.

Sweet heavens. This is gonna be my husband? When? When? When is he gonna be my husband?

Rule number five: When in a dream and your husband looks like THAT, screw reality and play along so fucking hard.

"Okay, okay." I take a deep breath, "So practically how many times does it take you to get the real him? I mean, him in the flesh, not just a picture on a wall." I eagerly ask as I make my way to the drool worthy photo.

"Uhm... well, actually... I don't have that just yet." Jack rubs the back of his head nervously when I turn to face him.

"What do you mean?" My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

I thought I was supposed to meet my future husband in this dream. Maybe have my imaginary, toes-curling first kiss with him. But, no, all I get is a Cupid and a picture.

God, even my dreams suck.

"Okay, here's the thing. I have been looking for him for the whole past year and I can't find him anywhere." Jack shakes his head sadly.

Yep, that's an example of my luck, right there.

"Oh, dear God, he is dead, isn't he? I know it. He died before I even get to look at him... I'm a widow." I nod my head frantically.

"No, no, he's not dead. I just can't find him." He shakes his head with a shrug.

"Okay. Alright. So what you're saying is that you visited me in my dream to tell me that you're cupid and you know who my future husband is but you don't have him, just a picture?" I conclude and he nods.

"And a name, if it helps. Just a first name." He grins with enthusiasm, and as cute as he is I still feel like punching a couple of his teeth in just to see what he would look like then.

"Okay, a name and a picture. So, what exactly am I supposed to do?" I narrow my eyes in suspicion.

"Well, just like I told you, I've spent the last year looking for him for you but I couldn't find him. So, I need your help with that." He states, lips pushed to a thin line.

"How?" I narrow my eyes even more at Cupid. Which still sounds funny, I know.

"Well, we can start looking for him with the little information I have. I'm pretty sure it will be easier with you around." He shrugs noncommittally.

"No, hold on. You're cupid, like the real deal supposedly, yet you need MY help to find the person I'm supposed to end up with? Whom, might I add, you couldn't find for a whole year?" I ask, trying to understand the whole situation better. He nods with shame and looks at the floor sadly.

"Dude, you suck at your job." I bark out a laugh, earning myself a glare.

"Anyway, I have to explain everything to you because it's kinda complicated." He sounds so hopeful my heart actually aches a little for him.