Page 50 of The Gods Forbid

I decided to walk through the marketplace, soaking up as much of our pale sun as I could get and taking the opportunity to chat with residents packing up stands. It was one of the earlier things I’d added to Prometheus—helping people find a job, a craft, or something in between that made them motivated.

They started here, then took it with them back into the world.

Once I stepped outside, I realized it was slightly sunnier than I’d expected. Like my clock was thirty minutes off or I’d misread the hands. I would never complain about more sunlight nor could I, when everyone was smiling at me like I’d just given them a present.

There were a few muttered thank yous as I walked by, more than normal to the point where I stopped and asked if something particularly of note happened today.

One older woman, with a short pixie cut styled in strands as sharp as her cheekbones, answered me. “Your Lord Apollo was such a treat today!”

He wasn’t my anything.

I steadied my breath and answered with a causal, “I’m glad.” And then I spent the entire walk home trying to figure out why I’d reacted to her calling him mine rather than the idea that he had been kind to everyone today.

I was so caught up in my thoughts I didn’t even brace for Sebastian’s presence when I walked through the door.

And brace, I needed.

There was something disturbing about the image of him covered in paint. Splatters of soft grays and violets and bright whites and golds all over his shirt sleeves. Little dots scattering over his chest, highlighting all the ways the fabric stretched over his form.

The streaks of color in his hair, like he’d ran his hands through it without realizing they were wet with paint.

I almost ran straight out the door like I’d just discovered an intruder in my house.

My hand tightened on the door knob, feeling like I needed it for support. “Hello,” I said, my voice rough and scraping.

“Persephone.” Yeah, running seemed like a good idea.

There was no way I was going to think straight if that was how his voice was going to sound for the rest of the night.

A pleasant smell trickled up my nose, distracting my thoughts. “I was going to tell you that you didn’t need to cook every meal, but I think I’m going to hold off,” I said, walking towards the stove like it had hypnotized me.

Sebastian tracked me the entire way over, arms crossing and muscles straining against his shirtsleeves. When I got close enough, and his cologne started overriding the smell of the food in my brain, I realized that everything I had planned that night was likely about to go up in flames.

It was just really hard to think around him, pesky fear and all. Maybe exposure therapy would work. The more time I spent with him, the less twitchy I’d be.

A nagging voice in the back of my head told me that would only make it worse.

“I don’t have all that much to do,” Sebastian drawled, the sound of his voice making my awareness of his presence even worse.

“I don’t see a list anywhere.” I looked around my kitchen and living room dramatically, passively noticing that it looked like someone had tidied up. I could have sworn that throw blanket on my couch was haphazardly thrown over the armrest, and now it was folded neatly in the corner.

Sebastian grinned, lowering his face closer to mine. I breathed in, hoping the movement would keep my head in place. I felt the urge to flinch … but towards him, for some reason? “It’s right here, love.”

He reached behind his back, pulling out a neat white envelope that had my name scrawled on the front. Huh, so now I knew what his handwriting looked like. That felt important.

I grabbed onto the other edge of the envelope, and even though there was paper separating our hands by several inches, it was like I could feel his skin as though his palm was nestled against mine. “I’m about to say thank you. Prepare yourself.”

Sebastian’s grin split into a smile, and my chest expanded like I’d just won an award. “I’m growing used to it. Might have to try harder.”

I tilted my chin up defiantly, and the motion pulled Sebastian’s attention for a moment before his eyes trailed back to find mine again. I felt my lips curve into a grin on their own accord. “I deeply appreciate it,” I returned, shocking myself with the teasing lilt to my tone.

This really wasn’t all that natural for me. Well, it felt natural with him, but this easy banter never felt like this with anyone else. There were times that I felt like I had to choose every word carefully, but with Sebastian it just … flowed.

I guess that rapport meant there was a good chance we’d work well together. Work, a voice in my head said, the word sounding almost like a reminder.

Sebastian breathed out, tilting his head on a forced wince. “That one hurt.” He clapped a hand dramatically over his pectoral, sounding like he’d just slapped granite. I guess he might as well have. His chest certainly seemed that solid.

Suddenly, I had to get some space from him. A fresh wave of fear pooled low in my stomach. I couldn’t flinch away, and moving around to the other side of the counter top would make it harder to talk to him.