I spin on my heels, heading over to the windows across the room, feeling horrible for lashing out at Dante, but too embarrassed to apologize like I should.
Peering through the gauzy curtains, I see the busy street below. People are coming and going from several hotels and loading into waiting cars parked on the street. Some have wide smiles as they chat with friends. How many of them are actually happy, not just plastering on a smile because that’s what’s expected?
I’ve been pretending myself, pretending that not knowing what happened to my mom isn’t killing me a little bit every day. Pretending I don’t feel guilty when she isn’t my first and last thought.
The guys have been taking up a lot of my time and energy, which is both good and bad. Good, because I can’t dwell on the fact that my mom is missing, and bad, because I feel guilty for going on with my life. Cradling my forehead in my hands, I take a deep breath. I should be relieved, feeling a push of excitement, determination—anything—with this new information. Instead, I’m too worried to get my hopes up, because I think it’s going to be another let down. Frankly, I’m scared it may lead to answers I’m not ready for.
Ares and Dante give me space, and neither of them tries to fill my head with false hope or promises that everything will be okay, for which I’m grateful. The quiet grows oppressive within minutes. I want to apologize to both Ares and Dante, but I don’t really know the protocol. Mom and I never really argued, and I’ve had little experience with friends. I glance over my shoulder and see Dante sprawled out on the couch, his large frame taking up the entire sofa. Ares isn’t in sight, but the door to the bedroom area is open, so I’m assuming he’s in there.
Making up my mind, I walk over to Dante and take a seat near his hip on the edge of the couch. His eyes open slowly, and he gives me a half smile. That’s all the permission I need to tell him, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
He doesn’t tell me it’s okay, instead he says, “It happens.”
“Are you feeling okay?” I run my hand through his hair and Dante sighs.
“Very okay.” He snuggles back into the sofa, his arms reaching out to pull me onto his chest. I lay there with him for several minutes—half on the couch and half off—until his breathing has evened out, and his body has gone slack with sleep.
That was the easy one. Dante was probably a lot more forgiving considering we just bonded. Ares, on the other hand, is going to require a lot more finesse. I’m still mad at him and think he should be the one to apologize, but I can be the bigger person and admit I was wrong, too.
I tap on the open door lightly, not wanting to wake up Dante. I know Ares won’t be sleeping. He never sleeps during the day. “You don’t need to knock,” he rumbles.
Rounding the door, I close it so it’s just barely cracked. I spy Ares leaning against the headboard, his knee kicked out to the side as he looks at the laptop on the bed in front of him. He glances up at me, his eyes scanning my face.
“Sorry,” we both blurt at the same time.
I sag a bit, relieved that this won’t be some big fight or an awkward apology where I’m the only one who admits I did something wrong.
Ares stands up from the bed and walks closer to me and there are still several feet between us when he stops. He places his palm behind his neck and squeezes. “I, uh…” He stammers, before admitting, “That probably wasn’t necessary.” Ares looks down at the ground then back up at me. “Asking Mia like that.” He winces like he hates admitting it.
“I could have tried talking to you about it, instead of being so sarcastic.” I study my striped socks against the carpet.
Ares steps closer and he bends his knees, so I can see his face. I peer at him from under my lashes. He moves fast and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me into his chest. I curl into the embrace, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Was that our first fight?” My voice comes out a little muffled from his chest.
Ares chuckles. “I don’t really think that qualifies as a fight, sweetheart.”
“Then let’s never fight,” I decree, like it’s possible for people to never argue.
“Okay,” he sighs, like he feels exactly the same way.
Chapter 16
Milo enters the room first, and he’s all smiles, holding a large wooden plaque in his hands. I readjust my legs so my feet hit the floor. I’ve been curled up with Dante on the sofa for the past half hour. He’s been asleep, but he wrapped his arm over my waist when I lay down next to him.
Ares is sitting on a desk chair near the window; he’s been working on creating his own list of Leons since we literally kissed and made up an hour ago. It’s getting harder to pull myself away from him every time he touches me. Knowing it was just he and I in the room, with Dante asleep on the sofa a few feet away, helped cool me down. I know I’m not ready for the next step, but I’m so very close.
Ollie piles in after Milo, wrapping his arm around his friend’s neck and squeezing their faces together. “We got an MVP in the house!” Ollie hollers and makes some barking noises.
Milo’s cheeks flare pink, but his grin is wide. “Knock it off.” He shoves Ollie away, setting his plaque on the table near the entrance. His parents aren’t far behind, and Linda comes in, rubbing his shoulder as she passes.
“Did you guys decide what we’re doing this evening?” Matt asks, stepping up behind Linda. She leans back into him and reaches her hand out to grab Phil’s, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I scan my eyes over them, checking for signs of jealousy or any indication that one of them isn’t happy, but I can’t find any evidence that they’re bothered by the arrangement. Will that be us one day? I look over at Milo and Ollie still near the door, completely comfortable with each other, and at Ares who has turned to see the room. Dante’s eyes are now open, and he’s watching Ollie tease Milo with a little grin.
I realize—for the first time—that it might be possible. Watching Milo’s parents together has made me understand that this isn’t just some fantasy, we could have what they do. My eyes meet Ares’s gaze, he’s been watching me. In that moment I understand what he meant when he said he would do anything to protect us. I would, too. He tips his chin down and gives me a lazy wink; it’s like he knows exactly what I was thinking.
Dante sits up behind me, stretching out his long body, and he groans on a long exhale. “How did it go?” His voice is low and raspy from not being used in a while. There are several things I like about Dante, but his voice has to top the list. I shiver but play it off like I was just repositioning myself.
“It was fine, same as usual, a bunch of jocks stuffing our faces while the coaches take all the credit for our hard work.” Milo walks over to the small dinette set near the mini fridge and plops down.
“They harassed Milo about school again.” Ollie rolls his eyes, choosing to head to the sofa. He plants a kiss right on my lips then throws himself on the couch, dislodging Dante and me.
After righting myself I look over at Milo’s parents, wondering what they’ll think about the PDA. Either they didn’t see or don’t care, since no one is looking at me like I shouldn’t have let him kiss me.