No matter how melty it makes me feel. In fact, that melty sensation in my core is a very good reason to never admit how he affects me. Ever.
I belatedly realize he’s waiting for a response and clear my throat. “You’re being ridiculous.” I smooth my hands over my dress. “We’re both adults. It’s a big bed. There’s no reason we can’t share.”
His jaw goes slack. “Cassandra—”
“If you’re worried about me wandering in my sleep, I don’t. But there are more than enough pillows to put up a barrier between us to protect your virtue.” The words are a little sharper than I intend, but I don’t like the idea of him sleeping on the floor. I can control the meltiness. I’m not going to throw myself at my boss, no matter how good his fake kisses made me feel.
Apollo runs a hand through his short black hair. “I don’t want to put you in a position where you feel uncomfortable.” He grimaces. “Though I guess I can’t say that any longer because you’re here and I know you’d rather not be.”
There’s not much to say to that, but I can’t just not respond. “For what it’s worth, I know I’m safe with you. That was never the issue.” It’s just everything else that threatens to make this so messy. None of that is Apollo’s fault, though, and I can’t stand the thought of him blaming himself for my shitty attitude. He should know by now that it’s my default.
He gives a wan smile. “Well, with that out of the way, let’s get ready for dinner and see about finding that control room to deal with the cameras.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say faintly.
10
Apollo
I underestimated what it would be like to be in such close proximity with Cassandra outside the office. The sheer intimacy of sitting on the bed and going through my emails while she stands in the bathroom with wet hair as she puts on her makeup is…strange. Very strange.
I’ve dated several people seriously as an adult, and none of those relationships reached a point when moving in together made sense, but there were intimate moments. Relationships are built of intimate moments. I don’t know why it feels so different with her. I’d be a fool to chase that feeling.
My phone rings as Cassandra finishes doing something to her eyes to give them a sexy, faintly smoky look. I bite back a sigh at the sight of my little brother’s name on the screen. It’s been several weeks since I cut him off, and I don’t trust him not to revert right back to his spoiled self the moment he senses me wavering. Cutting him off wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing to do.
It’s still the right thing to do, but I’m not heartless enough to ignore his calls entirely, no matter how frustrating I find them. “Orpheus.”
“Apollo.” He sounds tired, his charm worn thin.
Guilt pricks me. Our mother’s worried about him. She wants him to move back home, to let her look out for him. Since that translates to her meddling with his life, I don’t blame him for digging in his heels. He’s made changes, too. Downsized his apartment and moved away from the city center to somewhere more affordable. He doesn’t have a job yet, but apparently he wasn’t as careless with his money as I’d assumed. He has plenty of it to work through before he’s anything resembling truly desperate.
“I need a favor.”
“No.”
He sighs. “I’m not asking for money or anything like that.”
Cassandra realizes I’m on the phone and shuts the bathroom door. A few seconds later, the hair dryer starts, the sound muffled by the thick wood. I’m suddenly irritated that my brother caused me to miss being able to watch her dry her hair. “But you are asking for something, and that’s not part of the agreement.”
“I didn’t agree to anything. You made that decision for me.”
“Yes, I did. Someone had to.” Our parents certainly weren’t going to rein him in. He inherited our father’s charm and our mother’s audacity and boldness. Our parents have spoiled him from the moment he was born, and they never would have stopped if I didn’t draw the line in the sand.
My brother is a selfish prick, but he’s not a monster. Not yet. If he continues down the road he was on, though? I can’t make any promises. He’s an adult. I can’t save him from himself. I can only remove some of the more tempting vices that poisoned him.
Orpheus curses. “Look, the last few weeks have brought some…clarity.”
Clarity. Right. We’ll see. I settle back against the headboard. “And the favor?”
“Eurydice is spending all her time in the lower city, and I can’t get to her. I was hoping you’d pass along a message for me.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and strive for patience. “Orpheus, that woman wants nothing to do with you. If she’s not taking your calls or agreeing to see you, the appropriate response is to leave her alone. It’s not to find a roundabout way of contacting her.”
“I know.” For the first time in longer than I care to remember, he sounds absolutely hopeless. Maybe he’s never sounded like that. “I know I fucked up, Apollo. I didn’t realize how much at the time, but now that some stuff’s come out about what happened that night… I thought it was Zeus pulling some shit. I didn’t think she’d get hurt. I never wanted her hurt.”
I’d be curious to know how that information came out because it’s not common knowledge that the last Zeus used my brother as a pawn in a convoluted plan to endanger Eurydice, get Hades to cross the River Styx, and break a decades’ old treaty. I shake my head. What am I thinking? I know exactly how that information got to Orpheus. All the Dimitriou women hate my brother—and with good reason, if I’m going to be honest. One of them no doubt informed him of just what they think of him and why.
“Intentions don’t matter, Orpheus. Actions do,” I finally say.
“I know. That’s why I’m trying to make it right.”
Orpheus is ten years younger than me and sometimes I feel more like a parent to him than our actual parents. If he takes this to them, they’ll tell him exactly what he wants to hear. Unfortunately, it falls to me to give him the harsh truth.
Still, I speak it gently because even admitting that he was wrong is progress. “Sometimes the best way to make it right is to let that person move on without you. You’re not entitled to her time, even if you want to apologize.”
I expect him to argue. A few months ago, he would have.
He just sighs. “I know. Fuck, I know. You’re right.” He’s silent for a few beats. “I hear what you’re saying, Apollo. I promise I do. But the fact remains that I do need to apologize. If it doesn’t go past that, then it doesn’t. I’ll have to live with that.”
It’s remarkably mature of him, though I’m still not convinced he should be anywhere near her. I’ve only met the woman in passing, and she’s got a fragile air to her that makes me worry my brother crushed her carelessly. Apologizing won’t help that.
It’s still the right thing to do. “Promise me that apologizing is all you intend to do and that you’ll leave her alone after that.”