“You’re full of shit,” I glared.
He leaned down, and I could see a coy smile on his lips. “Should I see how wet you are from that?” he asked in my ear.
It was hard to stay mad at him, especially when he mocked me and smiled like that.Cocky bastard. I bit my mouth to keep from smiling and shoved his chest. He stumbled backward, smirking proudly at me.
“Asshole,” I grunted.
“I don’t hear you denying it,” he mocked.
“Oh, get out,” I said, pushing him toward the door.
Gavin laughed, a quiet, devious laugh that embedded itself in my bones. I ignored the chill running down my spine and shoved him again, but he braced his hands on the doorframe and whipped around before I could close my door.
“You didn’t answer my question about lunch,” he said fast.
My bottom lip sucked behind my teeth, and I tensed my jaw, glancing up at the clock. “Tomorrow. I eat at one.”
His face lit up. “I’ll take you—“
“You bring sandwiches here,” I said before he could finish. “And you look at some designs I have while we eat.”
The shock wore off, and his smile softened to one that worked its way into my warming heart. “Okay,” he agreed.
CHAPTER TWELVE - GAVIN
I LEANED AGAINST my Jeep and let my thoughts consume me as I waited on the person I had driven across town to meet. My insides still itched uncomfortably from seeing Chloe’s fiancé kiss her as he did… it made every possessive bone in my body go into overdrive. I had been jealous, sure, but what I’d said to her was true. Seeing me in the same room as her, perhaps sensing a connection between us, had ignited something within him. I wondered if the idiot had considered changing his flight just to be sure she didn’t spend any more time with me.
A motorcycle hummed in the distance, its loud engine revving with every turn up the hill overlooking the valley below. I knew who it was. The god rarely went anywhere without his bike, and I fully expected him to have a six-pack of beer in his bag that he would try to share with me.
A little father-son bonding time, as he would put it. Nonetheless, the way we bonded usually consisted of getting tattoos together, even if he barely had room for more. The big, formidableGod of War, always trying to prove he could take more pain than his pretty boy son.
He pulled up to the bend, and I pushed off my Jeep where I’d been leaning.
Ares let the motorcycle idle and walked it the last few yards, then turned it completely off just inches from where I stood. He sat back, his thick shoulders slouching just slightly as he took his sunglasses off and cleaned them with the hem of his white t-shirt. He looked the same as he had for as long as I could remember. Black hair longer on the top, buzzed on the sides, dark salt-and-pepper scruff on his square jaw. He looked as though he’d been hanging out by the beach; his alabaster skin had a sunny glow, the scars on his face and arms standing out in pale glory against it. He had an angry look about him that usually steered most people away.
Everyone except my darling mother, who thought his gruffness endearing.
“I was in Mexico when you texted me,” Ares said, his blue eyes meeting mine.
I straightened, pushing my shoulders back. “Hello, Ares.”
Ares raised a dark brow and reached back into his bag, pulling out a beer. “What do you need, son?” he said, popping it open with his teeth.
“Cute that you still believe that lie.” I loved mocking him about the vagueness of my parentage.
Ares glared, but took a sip of his beer. “Every time…” he muttered. “Where do you think you get your good looks? You think it’s all from your mother?” Ares asked. “And that tempter, that jealous thirst. How do you think you once carried out all your mother’s schemes without batting an eye at how cruel or devious the plan might have been?” Ares beat on his chest. “All me, kid.”
“I’m flattered,” I said.
“Who else would it be?”
“There are a few choices. But, I didn’t really invite you here to reminisce,” I said.
“What’d you invite me for then?” Ares asked as he took a swig of his beer.
“I think I found Psyche.”
Liquid sputtered and spat from Ares’s mouth. He choked, doubled over, and hit his chest. I watched, unbothered by the show he was putting on, if it was a show. His face was blood red, eyes glazed and bulging.
