Oh, the big brother.
“Don’t worry. I’ll text Artemis. He’ll deal with it when he gets here later.”
Part of me feels sad for the guard, but then I remember how rude he was. He doesn’t say anything when we pass by him this time. Our little argument sobered me up a bit, but I still have a long way to go before I’m fully alert. I realize just how drunk I am when it’s difficult for me to climb the short staircase to the VIP area. A lump rises in my throat at the prospect of meeting Ares.
It’s beautiful up here, with glass tables and plush armchairs. Waiters are serving the wealthy groups spread out across the lounge. At the far end, I see crimson curtains blocking what lies beyond.
Apolo guides me to one of the armchairs in front of an empty table. “Sit down, what would you like to drink?”
I search my brain, trying to remember what I was drinking with Dani, but she has already given me so many different drinks that I don’t even remember most of them. I only remember one by its peculiar name: Orgasm. But there is no way in this life or the next that I will ever say that word to Apolo.
“What do you recommend?”
“I don’t drink, but my brothers love whiskey,” Apolo says kindly.
“A glass of whiskey, then.”
He orders it from a waiter and then sits down next to me. I clasp my hands in my lap, nervous.
“I’m very sorry about the guard,” Apolo apologizes, looking at me with those pure eyes of his. “Sometimes they hire just anyone.”
“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have tried to go upstairs either.”
“I’ll tell Artemis to give you a pass so that way when you come, you can go upstairs whenever you want.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to do that.”
“Hey, we’re neighbors, and, while we may not be best friends, I remember the times we played and talked through the fence together.”
“I didn’t think you would remember that. You were so little.”
“Of course I remember. I remember everything about you.”
The way he says it makes something in my stomach tighten with tension. Apolo notices the expression on my face. “I don’t mean to sound weird or anything, I just have a good memory.”
“Don’t worry,” I say. “You’re not weird.”
I’m the last person who’s qualified to judge you regarding matters of stalking, anyway, I think.
The bartender brings the whiskey and I take a sip, struggling to swallow it. It tastes awful. As I take another sip, my attention is drawn back toward the crimson curtains. “What’s in there?”
Apolo scratches his head but before he can answer me, his phone rings. He makes an apologetic face as he gets up to answer the call and walks away. I look down at the dance floor and see Dani dancing and laughing with a guy. I’m not surprised. She has such a charming, bubbly personality. My eyes dart back to the curtains, my curiosity getting the best of me as always. What lies beyond them?
Apolo is still on his call, so I stand up and head toward the mysterious place. The first thing that envelops me when I cross the curtains is darkness. It’s hard for my eyes to adjust to it, since the only light is from small candles scattered around the area and nothing else.
I see couples kissing and groping each other on the sofas positioned around the room. Some of them look like they’re having sex with clothes on. I pass so many curtains that are all the same color that I no longer know where the exit is, and I’m terrified to open the wrong curtain and interrupt couples doing God knows what. I decide to head toward a soft light coming through what looks like a clear glass door in the distance, in hopes that it’s an exit. But I’m met by an unexpected sight on the other side.
Ares is sitting in a chair with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. Carefully, I step out and join him on the balcony. The fresh night air hits me, and it’s like I just walked out of a spell. The candle room seems to have that effect, engulfing you in a dreamlike vibe. Now, I’m back in the real world, facing a dark night and a Greek god.
Ares looks so beautiful with his eyes closed. He seems almost innocent. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, and one hand holds his glass of whiskey, while the other is subtly giving his noticeable hard-on a gentle squeeze. Eventually he removes his hand, looking frustrated. He’s obviously trying to calm his little friend down by getting some fresh air, but it doesn’t seem to be working.
A smile of victory crosses my lips.
So you aren’t immune to my attempts at seduction. I’ve got you, Greek God.