“What’s new, Di?” Dita asked, patting Bisoux while he pulled at the turkey leg.
“Well, it’s almost music festival season. I can’t wait for Coachella. It’s one of my favorite festivals. Do you know how easy it is to get mushrooms there? Plus, a whole new crowd will be exposed to our favorite drinking games.”
“Oh, gods. Remember when Poseidon got so pissed at Dizzy Bat? I’m pretty sure he bonged a case of beer through the whiffle bat. I thought he was going to hulk smash the room when he couldn’t hit the can.”
“Oh, or when Hermes puked his guts up after we invented Flambongo. He underestimated the force at which that plastic flamingo neck would shoot beer down his throat.”
“Gods, that was the best,” she said. “Making up drinking games is one of my favorite things to do with you.”
“It’s a family affair. We do find the stupidest things to bond over,” he said, shaking his head.
“And to fight over.”
“Word to that.” He took a bite of his burger and spoke with his mouth full. “Speaking of fighting, how’s it going with Ares?”
“Same shit, different century. He hasn’t played anything yet. I’m sure it’s coming, and that it’ll be lame enough that I can get Kat and Dillon past it. I mean, do I ever lose?”
“Nope,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose at the view of the wad of burger in his mouth.
“You’re so gross, Di.”
He grinned, then took a swig of his beer. “I’m looking forward to this fight tomorrow. You really think it’ll make a difference for your girl?”
“Nobody can resist Dillon once they’ve seen him fight. I mean, you’ve seen him fight, right?”
Dionysus waggled his eyebrows. “I’d hit that.”
“And what would Ariadne think?”
“Whatevs. She’d hit that, too.”
She laughed. “I don’t know if them hooking up would be enough for me to win at this point, but it’s a step in the right direction.”
“If you can get them to bump uglies, I’m sure that love will be right around the corner,” he said, batting his eyes and clutching his burger in front of his chest.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You are so mature.”
“Whatever, Dita. You’re older than me by like a kabillion years.”
“Yeah, well, lucky for me we’re all immortal. It’s not the worst thing ever to look like we’re stuck in our twenties for all eternity.”
“Now, if we could just stop acting like we’re in junior high, we’d be all set.”
Dita snorted. “That would be something, wouldn’t it?”
———— New York ————
Dillon’s stomach flipped when he pulled open the door to the pub that night and stepped inside, Owen at his back. He was nervous, which was new for him. He had been thinking about Kat all day, counting down to that very minute, the minute when he would see her again.
He scanned the light crowd, and his eyes found Kat leaning against the wall of liquor, talking to her sister. Her hair hung in a loose braid over one shoulder, and he traced the hem of the deep ‘v’ of her black shirt. When she laughed, her face was so bright that Dillon found himself smiling, too.
Kiki saw them approach and beamed. Kat’s eyes connected with his, and the smile that passed her lips made his heart race.
Kiki trotted around to Owen and slipped her arms into his jacket as they kissed hello. Dillon took a seat, and Kat tossed a cocktail napkin onto the bar. She set his glass of water on it, and when their eyes locked again, they stood still in their own quiet inside the noisy bar.
Kat was lost for a moment in Dillon’s blue eyes, but when the song on the jukebox changed, she took a breath and reached for a jar of Maraschino cherries. She grabbed the tongs inside and started to refill the tray of fruit in front of her while she talked herself down.
She had to cut it out, the whole attraction thing that she had going on with Dillon. It was a totally inappropriate time to not have her head in the game. She frowned, wondering again when she’d ever be able to not have her head in the game. Likely it would be a good, long while. She wished again that Eric would just disappear, and her frown deepened.
“You okay?” Dillon’s head tilted, and his face wore genuine concern.
Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her subconscious rolled its eyes at itself.
She erased her frown. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He smirked, and she knew then that not only did he not buy it, but he had an idea what she had been thinking, which slightly annoyed her. She had a kick ass poker face.
She dropped a scoop of cherries into the dish and went back for more. “So, are you ready for your fight?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really have to prep much. I train daily, but once I get to the fight, my brain clicks into fight mode. It’s always been automatic.”
“How long have you been fighting?”
“A long time. Brian and I were friends in high school. We lived together after Owen and I moved away from home.” A cloud passed over his eyes, and Kat wondered what more there was to that story. But if anyone didn’t want to pry, it was her.
Dillon continued, a little solemnly. “I used to fight a lot when I was a kid and in high school. Brian knew some people in the fighting scene and got me my first prizefight. I had never trained, but I beat the shit out of the guy.” He looked down at his glass. “The more I won, the more people wanted to try to get a piece of me. And the higher the stakes became. The money was good … good enough that I could support me and Owen, so I kept fighting.” He spun his glass of water around slowly and changed the subject. “How about you? How long have you been racing?”
“Since I was eighteen.” She bit her lip, feeling guilty for not sharing more when he had just told her so much.
“Owen said you’re from Vegas, right?”
She raised an eyebrow and sighed. “Born and raised.”
“How was that?”
“Hot.” Dillon laughed warmly. She picked up a couple of limes and began slicing them into wedges, trying to avoid eye contact with him. “Vegas is … well, it’s Vegas.”
“Did you ever go to a fight?”
“No, I’ve never been. I’m not quite sure what to expect tomorrow.”
He leaned forward on the bar. “Well, let’s see. It’s noisy and dark, except for the ring. It’s intense while the fight is on. But the good news is that it’s less gory than boxing with gloves.” He shook his head. “People think the gloves are for protection, but really, it’s to make the fight more bloody. Every punch has an extra twelve to sixteen ounces of weight behind it when you’ve got gloves on. Bare knuckle is less bloody, and there’s more skill involved. You can’t just whale on the other guy. Hits to the face have to be perfectly timed and placed, or you risk these.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers.
Her heart fluttered again. Dillon was a serious badass, which was something that she found too attractive for her comfort.
She cut a lime in half and flipped it over. “There’s not so much skill involved in drag racing. It’s eighty percent instinct, twenty percent knowing your car. Some people have it, and some don’t.”
“Makes sense. Your car is bitchin’, by the way.”
She busted out laughing. “Bitchin’? You just sounded like McConaughey in ‘Dazed and Confused.’”
“‘We’re talkin’ some fuckin’ muscle,’” he said, leering in a thick Southern accent.
“Oh, my god,” she chuckled and tossed the limes into their little plastic tub. “By the way, your car is pretty bitchin’ too. Just not quite as bitchin’ as mine.”
“True.” He looked up at her, and her heart pumped harder when their eyes locked. “Have you always been into cars?”
She looked back down at the limes and tried to play it cool. “Since I was a kid. How about you?”
“Yeah, and always vintage cars. They don’t make them like that anymore.”
“Sure
don’t. Now it’s all plastic and cheap parts.” She threw the last lime wedges in, picked up a few lemons, and went to work on them. “I’ve always loved cars. My dad got me into it. We rebuilt an engine together when I was twelve, and I’ve been hooked ever since.”
A patron called Kat’s name, and she turned to help them, but Kiki touched her back.
“I’ve got it,” Kiki said, and winked at Kat.
“You sure you don’t want to make out for another twenty minutes in front of a room full of people?” Kat razzed her, and Kiki giggled as she shot her sister the bird.
Owen shrugged off his coat and grinned at the two of them. “Uh, be right back, guys. Gonna hit the head,” he said before making his way to the bathroom.
“They would make terrible spies,” Dillon said.
“The worst. And I’m pretty sure that if you gave Kiki gadgets that would blow things up, it would not end well.”
He looked down at his drink, then glanced back up at her. “I’m glad you’re coming to the fight, really. I couldn’t sleep, thinking about the need to even the score on the shameful display from last night.”
“Sorry to embarrass you.” She trained her eyes on the lemon in her hand, and sliced another wedge. “Actually, that’s a lie. You deserved it.”
He laughed again, and she shot him a cocky smile that was harder than she felt. Fuck. She did like him. She was liking him more and more. Why couldn’t they have met a few months down the line? Her smile faded.
“You’re wearing that look again. You okay?”
She brightened up. “I’m good. And we’re good.”
Owen took a seat, and the conversation turned to gall bladders and intestines and other disgusting body parts. Through it all, Kat watched Dillon, unable to fight how she felt even though she knew he was a one-way ticket on a train that would crash and burn.
Ares watched Kat and Dillon’s exchange from his apartment with his lips flat. He glanced over at Hera, who sat straight in an armchair with her eyes on him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glass orb. Inside lay the tip of a peacock feather, its golden eye peering at him from behind the glass. She took it from him, depositing it into her clutch with a devious smile on her lips.
At that moment in the bar, the door pushed open and Jessica slinked in as the jukebox switched to a gritty blues song. Two of her friends flanked her, and she flipped her bleached-blond hair over her shoulder as she strutted over to Dillon, her eyes narrowed with purpose. She ran her hand across his shoulder, and he stiffened.
Jessica looked across the bar at Kat, and her lip curled for a second before she put on her most seductive smile.
“Hey, Dillon. Fancy running into you here,” she said, her words like honey, her intentions thinly veiled.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“This is a public place, if I’m not mistaken,” she said sweetly before turning to Kat with a smile laced with contempt. “How about getting me a drink? Appletini for me, and whatever my friends want.”
Kat tried not to laugh. “Yeah, okay. Appletini, coming right up.”
When Kat turned to make the drink, Jessica ran her hands down his shoulder and linked them around his bicep as she leaned into him possessively. “How are you, Dillon?”
“I was fine.” He pried her fingers apart and moved them from his arm. “Did you need something?”
She pouted. “A girl can’t say hello to a guy without needing something?”
Dillon’s brow dropped. “Right, Jessica. Drop the act. I’m not interested. I can’t say it any more plainly than that.”
Jessica stared at him blankly, and a slight breeze blew past like someone walked by, but no one had moved. He thought he heard whispers riding on the wind, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Jessica blinked, and when her eyes opened, they were intense. “Don’t bullshit me, Dillon. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’m pretty sure I do. Pass.”
Jessica leveled her eyes with his. “I don’t think you do, but you will.”
She marched over to Owen, who sat unassuming next to Dillon, and gripped his arm. She turned him in the stool, then grabbed him by the lapels and tried to eat his face. Or at least, that’s what it looked like from Dillon’s perspective. He broke out laughing hysterically.
Owen scrambled, his arms flailing slightly before they got their act together and moved to her shoulders to push her away. Dillon could see that he was pushing harder than he should have had to, but she wouldn’t budge.
But by that point, it was too late.
Kiki walked out of the back room to see Owen’s back to her, and a tall blond on the other side of him. It took her all of a second to figure out what was going on, and then she lost her shit.
She stormed around the bar with tears in her eyes. By the time she got to Owen’s side, Jessica had released him, and he sat there, stunned, staring at Kiki with his mouth hanging open.
Kiki gritted her teeth, pulled back, and slapped him. The smack of skin sent the hair on her neck standing on end. “I thought you were different, Owen,” she said, quaking. “You’re just like every other fucking asshole. Get out of here.” Her voice was shrill. “Get the fuck out!”
Owen reached for her. “Kiki, wait. I can explain—”
“I don’t give a fuck, Owen. Get OUT.” She turned on her heel and shouted at Kat. “Make him leave, please, for the love of Christ.” She pushed the swinging door open with enough force to slam it against the wall with a bang.
Kat’s mouth hung open, and the three stared at each other, confused, before Dillon shook it off. He turned on Jessica, who stood with her hands on her hips, looking proud of herself. Dillon grabbed her by the arm, and Kat could see his fingers digging into her skin. Jessica looked down at his hand, then up at him, and her face fell. One of her friends tugged Dillon’s free arm, but he shook it loose and shot her a look that made her back away.
“What the fuck, Jessica?” He dragged her toward the door. “We’re done here. Do you understand me? DONE. I don’t want to see your face again. If you fucked something up for Owen, you will never see the inside of a fight again. Are you hearing me?”
She moved away from him and nodded, her eyes wide. He dropped her arm, and her hand flew to the place where his fingers had been. Her friends flocked to her and rushed her out of the door.
Dillon turned and stormed back to the bar, his face going soft when he saw Owen slumped on the bar stool. “I’m so sorry, Owen.”
Owen turned to Kat, his eyes wide. “You have to talk to her. Will you talk to her?”
“What the fuck happened? I was busy making that bitch’s drink and when I turned around, you were getting face raped.”
Dillon ran a hand through his hair. “It’s my fault. She was trying to make me jealous.”
“That worked out really well for her.” Kat handed Owen the green martini. “Drink this shitty drink, and I’ll be right back.” She smiled at Dillon and hoped she looked reassuring.
Kat pushed open the door to the back room and found Kiki on the same stack of beer that Kat sat on a few days before. She sniffled as Kat sat down on a stack of cases next to her. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not fucking okay, Kat.” She sniffled again, and Kat reached over to pick up a roll of toilet paper from a shelf stocked with napkins and paper towels. She pulled off the crisp wrapper and handed the roll to Kiki, who ripped off a strip and dabbed her nose with it.
“Listen, that girl wasn’t after Owen, and he didn’t ask for that. She was after Dillon.”
Kiki’s nose honked as she blew it into the one-ply, then she turned her wet eyes to Kat. “What?”
“She was trying to make Dillon jealous.”
“Why didn’t he push her away?”
“It looked to me like he was trying to. Either she’s crazy strong, or Owen’s a wuss.”
Kiki eyed her. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”
“
I didn’t see the whole thing go down. You should talk to Owen.”
Kiki looked down at her hands and twisted the tissue.
“Kiki, do you really think that he would hurt you?”
Her brow furrowed and her lip poked out. “I didn’t think he would.”
Kat wrapped an arm around her sister. “I don’t think he would, either. Talk to him. He’s still here.”
Kiki reluctantly stood and stopped in front of the mirror in the hallway. “Oh, god. I look like shit.” She ran her fingers under her eyes to wipe the mascara away, and blinked her eyes a few times. She took a deep breath and walked back out into the bar. Kat followed and made her way around to the few waiting patrons, smiling at Dillon when she walked past.
Kiki twisted her hands behind her back, nibbling her lip. She walked around the bar to Owen, who started rambling the minute she was within earshot.
“Kiki, I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was. Jessica has been after Dillon forever, and I don’t know why she came on to me like that. I was trying to push her away, but I couldn’t break her grip. I couldn’t even move my head away from hers. She’s nuts, Kiki. I’m so sorry.” He waited a beat while she stood silently. “Say something, please. Anything.” His brown eyes were wide as he waited.
“Do you promise?” Her chin tipped down, and she peered up at him with wet eyes.
He relaxed and reached for her, running his hand down her arm. She unclasped her hands, and his long fingers trailed down her forearm to her hand. He grabbed it and pulled her to him. “I promise. Kiki, I wouldn’t ever do something like that to you.” With his free hand, he cupped her cheek.
She leaned into his palm. “Please. Just be honest with me.”
He stood and pressed his forehead to hers. “Always.”
Kat watched Kiki and Owen kiss sweetly and smiled.
“That was almost a disaster.” Dillon watched them, his voice full of relief.
“You know, this is a big change of heart from the first time I met you.”