“Narida!” I called out. “It’s just us grabbing some food. We’ll pay you back later!” I wanted to let her know in case she’d spelled the food and it would poison us or something.
Cronus gave a big grunt and threw open an ornate blue door.
Charging in, he started to ransack the place. I tiptoed in after him and was impressed that he'd found the kitchen so quickly.
“How did you know it was here?”
He shoved a piece of cheese in his mouth. “I can smell food a mile away.”
My heart skipped a beat. If this guy wasn't such a dickface, he’d be my soul mate.
“Well, share!” I snapped and grabbed some of the cheese and bread and olives from a cutting board that was sitting out.
“Don’t eat my special olives!” Narida shouted from down the hall and I dropped the olives back on the counter.
Was it spelled? I wasn’t going to find out. Avoiding the olives and knowing we had her blessing, Cronus and I ate everything in sight. He was an enabler to my inner foodie. I was pleased to find that Narida didn’t have any meat in the house; it looked like she too was a vegetarian.
#SaveTheAnimals
Finally, Cronus sat across from me, staring my bikini body up and down. I was still just chillin' in my Calvin Klein two-piece. He still had no shirt. Both of us vibing the beach life. If only a bunch of Greek gods weren’t trying to kill us, it’d be vacay central up in here.
“How can you eat like this and look like that? I mean, you clearly don’t work out, so…”
I think there was a compliment in there. Somewhere. Very, very, deep in there.
I put a hand on my hip, and even though I was stuffed, shoved a grape in my mouth. “First of all, I have a fast metabolism. Secondly, I do yoga, which is a very relaxed way of working out that doesn’t build too much muscle, and I’m totally good at it.”
Okay, full disclosure, I did Yoga like once a month, and mostly just so I could post poses online.
“Are you really?Totally?” He smirked.
Fucker with the sarcasm again. I should never have taught him that.
Before I could retort, he yawned. “I’m tired. I couldn’t sleep on the plane because someone next to me was snoring the entire flight.” He pinned me with a glare.
I did NOT snore.
With that, he stood and walked back to the bedroom. “Wait, shouldn't we clean up? It looks like a raccoon has torn the kitchen apart.” I started to pick up some of the cheese crumbles when I felt that yank at my gut, pulling me to him.
“She’s getting my blood. I’m not cleaning up a damn thing.”
#CockyMuch
Running after him so I didn’t get a hernia, we closed ourselves inside the barn door and stood there looking at the bed.
“I’m not sleeping on the floor. It’s too hard. You can if you want,” he declared and dropped into bed.
My mouth popped open. I wasn’t sleeping on some cold-ass tile floor either!
I dropped in next to him, sticking my heel into his back to move him over, but he didn’t budge.
“You’re taking up the entire bed!” I shoved harder. His eyes flicked up the length of my thigh. “I haven’t been with a woman in a thousand years. You should probably take the couch.”
My foot stilled midair and my throat went dry.
Oh.
There was a couch at the end of the bed, small like a chaise lounge, more for reading, but it would do. And now I couldn’t stop playing his words in my head.
