A small breeze pushed by, smelling faintly of flowers. Roses? His brow quirked as he turned toward the door.
Lex.
He was rooted to the spot, realizing distantly that he was staring. Lex set her bag down on the bar and pulled off her jacket to hang it on the back of a chair. Her tight jeans hugged her hips and lean legs, and knit socks peeked out of the top of her knee-high motorcycle boots. She looked like she could kick your ass, or kiss you, or both, and any would be fine. Her shirt was shorter in the front than the back, exposing a sliver of the snowy skin at her navel. He drew a breath.
She was always in his thoughts, in the dark of night as he tossed and turned, when he was riding the subway or writing. Everything he’d written since he’d met her was inspired by her.
And that was just when they were apart. When they were together he could barely function, his thoughts entirely consumed by her. The closer their proximity, the worse it was. It was baffling, especially given that he didn’t even know her. He’d barely even talked to her. They had only spoken a few times in passing, since it seemed both of them were actively avoiding each other. But every time they spoke, he wanted to know more, and it was getting harder and harder to walk away.
Dean didn’t understand how Travis didn’t see it. Roe definitely did, and Lex’s friend seemed to notice too. He’d even felt a pang of jealousy when he overheard Travis talking to Kevin about Lex and images of them together flashed through his mind. Dean couldn’t stand the thought of Travis’ hands on her, and couldn’t stand that he couldn’t stand it.
He was in so deep, he felt like he was drowning.
There was something about her. Part of it was probably because she was obviously trying to shut him down, but she was always giving him the look, though he knew she didn’t realize it. But even though he could see that she wanted him, she wasn’t pursuing him. Maybe that was the appeal.
But it wasn’t just that, and he knew it.
Lex smiled at a bartender in a bowler hat and suspenders, and he smiled back, his handlebar mustache quirking as he handed her the drink she ordered. She took a sip and turned to watch the blues band. The singer’s eyes were closed as he poured his heart out into the microphone and it spilled out of the speakers, into her.
She felt eyes on her and scanned the room to find Dean standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching her. A thatch of black hair had fallen into his eyes that were locked on to hers, and he ran his hand through it to put it back in place. Her heart raced as she gave him a small smile.
Remembering that the whole animal attraction thing they had going on was ridiculous, she tried to push her thoughts away. It took more willpower than she was comfortable with not to walk across the room and kiss him.
She felt spellbound, like she’d been hypnotized. Like Mina and Dracula, as if he’d somehow infected her, and logic and reason no longer applied. Ultimately, she didn’t get it and was torn because even though she knew she should stay away, she was equally fascinated, dreading and anticipating every chance she had to see him.
Lex had watched him at the warehouse a few days earlier before practice, bent over his black notebook with his long legs slung over the arm of an armchair. His face was bent in concentration as his pen flew across the page. She knew that look. It was the same look she wore when she wrote and sketched.
After the first practice, she downloaded all of their music and had been listening to it in a compulsive loop, finding that she understood his words somewhere in a part of herself that she didn’t speak to very often. Lex kept that little voice tamped down tight, only letting it out to write and draw.
Kara brushed her arm, and Lex shook her head, cursing herself as she broke the laser eyes she and Dean had on each other.
“I see Dean is here.” Kara waggled her eyebrows at Lex, linking their arms to pull her toward the pool tables. As they walked past Dean, Kara cat-called, “Hey there, hot stuff.”
Dean didn’t take his eyes off of Lex as he took a drink to hide his smile. Lex’s long eyelashes almost brushed her eyebrows as she looked up at him, her cheeks pink, a smile in the corner of her rosy lips.
A battle of will, indeed, he thought as he took a long pull of his drink.
Lex and Kara set their drinks and bags down at a wobbly bar table near where Roe and Travis played pool. Behind them, Kevin was attempting to play darts with his face screwed up in concentration. He wasn’t having much luck. Mostly, they hit the board sideways, if they even got close. His skinny frame was clad in skinny jeans, Chucks, and a t-shirt that said Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful, hate me because I’ll kick your ass at Street Fighter.
Lex hopped onto the bar stool and swiveled around to face the pool table. Travis caught sight of her and sauntered up as Roe stretched over the table to make a shot, the light shining bright on his face and shoulders, the rest of him disappearing in the darkness.
Travis landed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Good day?”
“Well, I broke up a fight between two middle-aged women over the last copy of Fifty Shades of Grey, so … I guess that would make it a win?”
“That’s a story I’d like to hear.” He laughed as he turned back toward the pool table where Roe leaned on his cue, observing them. Lex shuffled in her seat and picked up her drink, pretending not to notice.
Kara grabbed her drink and shot a sly grin at Lex in parting as she slinked over to Kevin. “How about you let a pro show you how it’s done?”
Kevin looked elated. “Uh, please do. I’m considering trying out to be a championship dart competitor. That is, after I kick start my cage fighting career. I may need quite a bit of tutoring.”
Kara grabbed a handful of darts and moved behind Kevin with a crafty look on her face, pushing up against him while she guided his arm to throw. He looked over at the rest of the group with an is-this-really-happening look on his face.
Lex looked around the bar and then down at her drink as she realized that she was alone at the table and Dean was unaccounted for.
Awesome.
She glanced around, nervous. He was bound to walk up any minute, and her stomach flipped with anticipation. She wondered what would happen if she got caught in a conversation with him for an extended period of time. Every scenario that crossed her mind did not end well. And by ‘not ending well,’ she meant ‘ended up lip-locked against a wall.’
They’d only spoken a few times, but she watched him during practice like a stalker. Dean had all the makings of a man-sized Venus Flytrap. Everything about him called to her — and every other woman in a fifty-foot radius — but she knew that if she got close she would get eaten. Hopefully eaten in the sexy way, but she figured more likely it would be in the kind of way that she would experience a slow and painful death via metaphorical stomach acid.
Who says he would even come to sit next to me anyway? she thought. Which happened to be the exact moment that he walked up.
Dean’s green eyes were bright, and the black stubble on his face pronounced the hard line of his jaw. His legs were long in black jeans, a white v-neck under his black leather jacket. He looked like a rock and roll god.
He sidled up next to her and leaned on the edge of the wobbly table, tipping it toward him. Her drink teetered and spilled a bit, and she was entertained as he grabbed a stack of cocktail napkins and mopped up the table.
“Sorry,” he said, and she thought she saw a little pink in his cheeks. She stopped a giggle by biting her lip.
“It’s fine. No harm, see?” She turned her arms, inspecting for spills, then picked up her drink and took a dramatic sip as she peered at him over the rim of her glass.
His eyes met hers, and they sat in silence for a moment. She broke away and looked down at the amber liquid in her glass, spinning it slowly, overly aware of her hands, her face, her hair as she tugged at a lock that tumbled around her face and twisted it with her index finger.
Get a grip, Lex. She never did that. She unwound her hair and threaded her fingers i
n her lap.
Eager to break the tension, Lex scrambled for something to say, blurting out the first thing that came to her. “This band is great. Have you heard them before?”
“Yeah, George plays here a lot. The guy’s legendary, we’ve jammed together. I actually own the 45’s he put out in the fifties.”
“You collect records?”
“I do. It’s an obsession, really.”
She smiled wide, because of course he did. “Vinyl is a precious, lost medium. What are you into?”
“Everything. There’s not a lot of music I don’t like, and I’ve got samplings from electronic to hip hop to indie albums.”
“It’s becoming a lost art. I mean, how annoying is it to go to a bar with a ‘DJ’ that plays off their iPod? That’s not spinning. That’s making a playlist.” She snorted and took a drink.
Dean laughed, seeming surprised. “What about you? I’m sure I’ve got something in my collection that you’d like.”
She almost choked on her drink, then swallowed hard. There were all kinds of things in his ‘collection’ she was sure she’d enjoy. “I, uh, well, I love music, so I’m sure you’d have a record or two that I’d appreciate.”
He watched her squirm, and she thought he might be amused. “I always see you writing. I write too, ever since I was a kid. I used to fill up composition books full of really bad poetry, though now I mostly write lyrics. Hopefully I’ve improved since then.”
“I think you’re doing all right.” Lex flushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I mean, you know, I really like your songs.” She flushed deeper as the hole she dug swallowed her up. “Um, anyway, I mostly write poetry, but I sketch too.”
“What do you like to sketch? Animal, vegetable, mineral?”
You, Lex thought. Awkward. “I prefer human subjects,” she said, hoping she sounded blasé. It wasn’t a lie, even if it wasn’t the full truth. She couldn’t exactly tell him she had drawn him every day since she met him.
Her heart pounded, her unease hitting new and painful levels as she slid off her stool and grabbed her drink, needing to get away from him. “I’m, uh, going to go join in on darts. Catch you later.” She gave her hips a little extra sway despite her conscience, feeling his eyes on her as she walked to where Kevin and Kara laughed by the dartboard.
Dean watched her walk away and ran his hand over his mouth. He caught sight of Roe, who shot him red-hot poker eyeballs from across the room, and Dean glanced back at her hips. He raised an eyebrow at Roe in answer.
He didn’t know why he’d sat down next to her, not when he knew he should have kept walking. He should have, but he didn’t want to. In fact, he felt like he had to do it. Like an itch you couldn’t scratch, and every second that passed, it consumed every thought until you would do anything, give anything to scratch it.
He wondered if he scratched the itch, if they did hook up, if it would break the spell. He watched her from across the room, his eyes on her red lips as she laughed, and thought through it. He pictured himself pushing the stool away, marching across the room, kissing her until her lips were swollen and her knees weak. Thought about dragging her from the bar, taking her to his apartment, undressing her in the moonlight.
Dean picked up his glass and drained his drink. One night wouldn’t be enough. He would want more, even though he didn’t know what ‘more’ was.
It was best if he found a way to forget about her, and considered finding a way to keep her from practice. But the thought of her out of his life wasn’t something he could comprehend. It was an impossible situation, and there was no way out of it, not without someone losing. And then he decided that it had to be him. No one else was prepared to handle it in the way he was.
Kara took a sip of her drink with her eyes on Dean, who was bent over his drink at the table as Lex and Kevin laughed and fumbled through a game of darts. Kara was pretty sure that Dean was attempting to look inconspicuous as he watched Lex, though he was doing a terrible job. Any idiot could see that he was sick over her. Any idiot other than Travis.
Poor guy. She glanced over at Travis, laughing with Roe by the pool table. For a long time, she thought that he might actually be the guy for Lex, even though she never got all gooey about him, but she didn’t for anyone. That was Lex’s modus operandi. But watching Lex react to Dean was like nothing Kara had seen from her before.
She shook her head as she watched Lex, who choreographed every move she made, probably sensing Dean as he stared holes through her from across the room. Kara couldn’t blame her for being hyper-aware. Anyone would swoon under that kind of eyeballing, which somehow wasn’t creepy. It was the kind of look that could explode panties from fifteen feet.
Kara wished things were different for the two of them. If only Dean wasn’t a whore. If only Lex wasn’t dating his drummer. If only they could be together, or at least hook up and let that run its course.
If only I had a million bucks.
If Lex would just break up with Travis and distance herself from him a little, then she could make a move. But Kara shook her head at the thought. The reality was that Lex would never make a move on Dean. Not with his reputation, and not thinking that, if she did actually end up caring about him, that he could hurt her. That was the stuff of Lex’s nightmares.
He didn’t seem like the type of guy to want something fiercely, but he looked at Lex pretty fiercely when he thought no one was watching. Maybe he was a whore because he hadn’t found the right girl. Lex could be that girl. She was a catch, if he could hang on to her.
Kara had no idea why she wanted to see the two of them together other than that she wanted her friend to be happy. Based on Lex’s erratic behavior, she knew he got to her.
She weighed it out, since she knew Lex wasn’t thinking with her whole brain. There was a good possibility that she could get hurt by Dean, but what if she didn’t? Even if it didn’t last, would it be worth it for her to really feel something for someone? It wasn’t something she had any desire to decide for Lex, but …
Kara smiled as she outlined a plan. If she could help to put Lex in a situation where she could see her options, where Lex could get to know Dean so that she could make the decision for herself? That was something Kara could do, guilt free.
She knocked back her drink and set it down with a clink before she walked over to the table and to her huge bag. She dug around in its dark maw until she found her lip-gloss and a small mirror, then turned to face an arbitrary direction. Lex was watching, so Kara stared into the mirror, hoping her intentions were hidden enough not to throw Lex’s red flag.
“Listen up, Romeo,” she said, and Dean straightened up. “I’m probably only saying this because I’ve had a few drinks, but she likes you. I’m sure you’ve got spidey-senses for that and all, but I’m just saying it out loud.” She blotted her lips together, made a kissy face into her mirror, and continued as she packed her things back into her purse. “She doesn’t want to cause problems with the band, and she doesn’t want to hurt Travis. But I’ve never seen her like this over anyone, and if I didn’t give you a nudge on her behalf, I’d regret it. So, go get her, son.” She zipped up her bag and turned back toward the dartboards, smiling over her shoulder at Dean as she walked away.
Dean leaned on his forearms and watched the ice melt in his glass, wondering if it was all some cruel test that the universe had put to him to test his mettle. He just didn’t know whether or not the trials in his life would ever end, if he would ever pass the test. If he would ever be free.
Day 8
“I’M JUST SAYING, APOLLO. GOOD luck with that.” Dita sat sideways in an armchair in the common room, her long legs in dark skinny jeans slung over the arm, a grin all over her face. She couldn’t help herself. “There’s a reason why I’ve been undefeated for three millennia. Dean’s got it bad for my girl, and it’s only a matter of time before she caves. I’ve seen it a million times.”
Ares sat in an armchair next to Dita, watching the two needle e
ach other with twinkling eyes. Hermes typed out emails on the couch next to Apollo, his fingers moving so fast on the keyboard that they were a blur. He looked like he wasn’t paying attention, but Dita knew his nosy ass better than that.
Apollo looked good in chinos and a striped button down cuffed to three-quarters. A straw fedora sat cocked on his head, and his camel oxford was crossed to rest just outside his knee. He looked a little too relaxed for Dita’s comfort.
“You know what they say about counting chickens and eggs and hatching, et cetera.”
He had no reason to be smug, not if he was watching the same players she was, not unless …
She swung her legs around, spinning to cross them where they belonged in the front of the chair. “What do you know that you’re not telling me, Apollo?” she asked with narrow eyes.
“Dita, please. Like I’m going to give you any more of an advantage. You know me better than that.” He rose gracefully and gave her a condescending look as he patted her on the shoulder. “This competition is mine. Just try to hang in there, kid.”
That son of a bitch. Her mouth popped open as he strolled to the elevator, his hands in the pockets of his chinos. Kid? She was older than him by a thousand years.
Ares’ fist was in front of his mouth as he looked at Dita with his eyebrows raised. “He just called you out like a boss.”
“SHUT UP,” she snarled, and punched him in the chest.
He grabbed her forearm and pulled her into his chest. “Fists of fury, hm?” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her neck. Goosebumps broke out down her arms, but she was too furious to care, her thoughts fixated on whatever the fuck Apollo was so chipper about.
“Ugh, not now.” She jerked her arm away and picked herself up. Perry would know what to do.