“Do you want to get out of here?” Stefanos asks.
My heart sinks. So much for tomorrow. Great. Not even half an hour, and he’s bailing. Classic. I swallow hard. “Maybe?”
When I glance up, he’s still looking at me like he’s missing nothing. He offers a wry smile. “Do you want to try something different? It’s a bit louder here than I thought it would be tonight.”
I blink. “You still want to spend time with me?”
Stefanos looks startled by the question. “Of course I do.”
“I’d hate to ruin your reputation too.”
“Impossible.” The way he says it, so emphatic, makes me believe him for a fleeting moment.
“My reputation comes pre-ruined.” I laugh, but I don’t feel it. Drooping, I shake my head. I finish my drink. “You’ll see.”
“Come with me,” Stefanos says with quiet authority, certainty in his expression. He nods. “It will be better. You’ll see.”
And I’d give everything in that moment to believe him.
Chapter Twelve
Instead of making a beeline to the exit through the crush of humanity loitering at the bar, people who clearly want to be seen, Stefanos takes me the opposite direction. Our destination is a dimly lit staircase with tiny, colorful LED lights on each tread and the sides to mark the way with a soft glow. The bouncer nods at Stefanos and lets us pass. His smile is either that good, which it is, or he knows the staff.
“Don’t worry,” Stefanos says to me and Miles. “The section is closed. And secured.”
Curiosity has the better of me now as I follow him up a couple of flights of stairs. Our steps echo up.
“There’s a lift too, but this was closer.”
We end up on a high level of the bar.
“Where, exactly, are you taking me?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
The distraction has totally worked. I’ve left my worries behind downstairs. Stefanos leads us to a wall of tall windows that overlook a terrace. And beyond that, in the sandstorm haze, is the imposing orange glow of the Acropolis.
In the distance, the loud music plays on from the bar downstairs, but it’s muffled and a lot quieter. The bass thumps underfoot. But in the dark room, I can make out our even darker silhouettes in the glass. There’s something mystical about looking at the archaeological ruin.
“The view in the summer from here is spectacular,” Stefanos says as he gazes out at the city view. “The patio is full of people having a good time. You can see the city and the ruins. It’s perfect.”
While the Acropolis is amazing and ancient and all that, so is Stefanos. He’s caught my full attention as I admire him in a sidelong view as he gazes out the window. A soft sigh escapes me like I’m meeting a fantasy prince in a fairy tale, and I tell myself to get a grip. But then, I don’t fawn over princes every day, so I suppose a few seconds’ worth of indulgence is acceptable. Thank God he hasn’t noticed my looking, and I refocus on the ruins. Then, I don’t have anything or even semi-intelligent to say because the blood has left my brain for other parts a lot further south.
Fuck, Theo, I tell myself, you’re so basic.
Ignoring my hard-on and accompanying blush at the realization, I cough as if that’s going to shake off an erection. At least it’s dark in here and he’s not staring at my crotch.
“So, do you often play tour guide?” I drawl.
“Only to the rich and famous,” he quips, and at my laughter, he grins. It’s a thrilling sight. “It’s a very niche clientele.”
“Oh yeah? What kind of places do you tour? I’m theoretically rich and famous.”
“It’s by request.” Stefanos peers at me, smiling.
“I see. No set itinerary?”
“Not during the off-season.”
