But Ares just nods. “Yeah. A few, I think.”
“Afew?” I echo. “Doing what?”
“Boxing matches,” he says casually, like this is something everyone grew up doing.
My eyes widen with genuine surprise. “You... box?”
“My father signed me up for lessons when I was a kid,” he says, and I note that this is the first time he’s mentioned anything about his family—though, from the flatness of his tone, you’d think he was talking about a stranger.
“For self-defense?” I ask.
“No. That was never his priority. It was to protect...” He trails off, and his expression tightens, the muscles in his jaw hardening. Then he glances over at me. In an obvious attempt to turn the attention away from himself, he says, “Haveyoubroken any bones before?”
“Just my pinkie finger. Like, four years ago.”
“From doing what?”
I decide to just be honest. “Dancing.”
He pauses. “And how does that work? Were you dancing with a hammer?”
“I was dancing in my bedroom,” I admit. “I got a little too into it, and I accidentally hit my hand on the wall during one of the moves.”
Something happens to his mouth then: the faintest twitch of his lips, like he’s fighting to squash down any amusement. “I didn’t realize dancing could be such a dangerous activity.”
“Just wait until you see me dancing at prom,” I say, which seems like the perfect segue—but before I can continue, something warm and furry brushes the back of my calves. I whip around to find a pair of wide, dark brown eyes gazing up atme. The animal’s ears twitch. She wags her short tail back and forth with such enthusiasm it appears in danger of dislocating, her pink tongue lolling out to one side.
“A puppy,” I say in delight, crouching down by the pedestrian lane.
The puppy draws closer at the sound of my voice, bumping her small, vaguely Labrador-shaped head against my knee.
“Hello,” I murmur, letting the animal sniff my fingers, her wet nose grazing my skin. “Are you hungry?”
In response, the puppy wags her tail harder, now gladly licking away at my hand. I laugh and pat the dappled fur on her side, which is all the encouragement she needs to roll over, stretching out her belly for me to scratch.
I’m having so much fun playing with the dog that it takes a moment to notice how beside me, Ares has frozen, tension rolling through his body. When he finally speaks, his voice has none of its usual cadence or composure. “Get that thing out of here.”
I stare at him, expecting him to be joking, but he’s watching the puppy with real fear in his eyes. Even his breathing has shallowed.
“Ares,” I say, unsure how we could possibly be seeing the same thing. “She’s a tinydog.She’s friendly.”
The puppy gives a little yap of agreement, but Ares flinches away, hiding behind me, his long fingers gripping my shoulders as though I’m a shield. I don’t shrug him off; the sheer absurdity of the scene roots me in place. Ares Yin, the most dangerous and intimidating person I’ve ever met, who can make peoplepart in the hallways just by glancing their way... is now hiding, trembling, from a harmless stray puppy.
“I didn’t know you were scared of dogs,” I muse aloud, unable to keep the incredulity out of my voice.
“Don’t sound so judgmental about it,” he says, eyeing the puppy like it might suddenly sprout fangs and attack.
The puppy in question stands up and pads forward, now sniffing around my shoes. Ares’s grip tightens around my shoulders, and a thrill shoots through me. If I’d known that all it’d take to make Ares act this way—to relyon me, to seek me out for protection, to show vulnerability—was a puppy, I would have hired a dog actor.
“Get it away,” he repeats, shrinking back farther.
This is my chance, I realize. My chance to be the hero, the princess in shining armor. “If I do, you owe me a favor,” I tell him.
His voice is hoarse in my ear. “What kind of favor?”
“I’ll specify later.” I can’t suppress my smile. “Hmm? Sound fair to you?”
“I don’t—” The word falls flat as the puppy yaps again and bounces toward him. A choked sound escapes his lips.
