by Staci Hart
Over the ages, she had come to know Heff, despite her best efforts. He loved her, she knew, and in her way, she loved him too. Her husband-who-wasn’t-her-husband was thoughtful and caring, though strong-willed when something mattered to him. And he would be whatever she needed, whenever she needed it — be it friend, protector, lover, or husband — but she had only called on him for friendship and liked to think that she had given that back to him, at least.
Dita watched Heff’s big hands as he lifted the keypad by its face and pushed it back into the wall.
She smiled as she lay in one of the many gifts he’d made for her. Her most coveted possession was Bisoux, and second in line was her infinity closet. But the runner-up was a corset Heff had created that made her irresistible to any man. Not that she needed much help in that department, but it never hurt. She looked amazing in it.
Heff tightened the last screw and stood. “Okay, Dita, let’s give it a whirl.”
She unfolded herself from the pillows and trotted to the doorway where Heff leaned against the frame. He nearly filled it and didn’t move when she approached, just smiled down at her as she pressed her body against his to squeeze by. All she could smell was smoke and fire as her cheek brushed against his chest.
“You’re impossible.” She giggled at him, rolling her eyes, though her cheeks were hot.
Heff winked before turning to the keypad and punched out a sequence of numbers. Dita’s hair stirred as the closet spun around again and landed on 1500 AD. Renaissance gowns hung along every wall, and lavish jewelry and crowns were displayed in cases.
He crossed his arms with a satisfied look on his face.
“Thank you, Heff.” She laid her hands on his wide shoulders and reached up on her tippy-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
His cheeks flushed hard under his beard. “No problem. Need anything else while I’m here?”
She shook her head. “That was it. Really, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Dita. I’ll see you later.” His eyes lingered on her once more before he turned to leave.
She walked over to the doorframe and leaned against it as she watched Heff limp out. All the gods would have treated him as second-class if it weren’t for his brilliant mind. But she had to admit that he was just as exquisite as all the rest.
Travis walked up the steps to his apartment, exhausted but happier than he’d ever been in his life. He couldn’t believe his luck, getting into Paper Fools, and he was ecstatic about it. All the guys were friendly enough, and he was already familiar with their songs, so picking them up was going fast. He didn’t think it would be long before they were ready to hit the studio.
A smile stretched across his face. He was going to be on an album, something he’d almost given up on after being stuck with Spike for as long as he had been.
He unlocked the door and made his way inside, tossing his keys in the dish on the table. He stretched as he walked into his bedroom, and Lex looked up from their bed with a smile. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and she laid the book she was reading down in her lap.
“Hey. How was practice?”
“It went really well.” He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it into the laundry basket in the closet. “I met the lead singer, Dean, today, but he didn’t say much. Kevin — he plays keys — is hilarious. He’s a super-nerd, and I’m pretty sure he weighs less than a twelve-year-old girl. Oh, get this; apparently, the last drummer left because Dean boned the guy’s girlfriend.”
“What?” Her nose wrinkled. “Man, that is low.”
Travis laughed. “Kevin called him Professor Panty Dropper.”
Lex laughed so loud, Travis figured it was more of a cackle. “Oh my God. That’s hilarious.”
“Right? They actually told me not to bring you to practice.”
She shook her head and picked up her book. “Like I’d be that weak.”
Travis pulled off his jeans and walked into the bathroom, reaching into the shower to turn it all the way to hot. When he walked back into the bedroom, he flopped down on the bed next to Lex. “Yeah, Kevin said the guy’s never had a girlfriend, and never the same girl twice. I don’t know though. I can’t get a read on him. He seems like the kind of guy who doesn’t have problems getting chicks, but if he never actually dates any of them, that’s kind of weird, right?”
Lex raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know many good-looking guys in their late twenties who have never had a girlfriend.”
“Yeah. But he writes all their lyrics, and between that and what Kevin told me, it seems like he’s got some serious baggage.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he kind of sounds like a prick.”
“I’m sure he’s not. He’s just got issues. Everybody’s got issues.”
Her brow dropped a bit at that, and a shadow passed over her face, but she shook it away and smiled. “So, what’s the deal with this band? I mean, are you rich now? Because I could really use a sugar daddy.”
He laughed. “Not quite rich, but Roe gave me an advance from the signing bonus, so I called and quit the restaurant. Can’t say I’m bummed I won’t be waiting tables anymore.”
“Travis, that’s amazing. Sounds like they’re a huge step up from Spike.”
“Uh, yeah. I can’t say I was sad to quit Spike either.”
“Kara will be absolutely crushed.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” He rolled off the bed and walked into the bathroom, slipping into the hot water.
Travis thought about Dean again and felt bad for the guy. There was something about him, something sad and ruined, and Travis wondered what could have happened in Dean’s life to stop him from ever being with someone. Not only that, but he had thrown the band into tumult multiple times because he couldn’t say no, if what Kevin had said was true.
Travis asked himself what he would do if Lex stepped out on him with Dean. She was his best friend, and he loved her, but he didn’t think he was in love with her. What they had worked and worked well, and they were both content with where things were.
He knew her and trusted her. If she wanted a thing with Dean or anyone else, she’d be honest with him about it, and he would let her go.
Day Four
Lex was a little wary as she walked with Travis to the warehouse for practice, heavily armed with things to keep her busy, just in case his new band was anything like Spike’s. She’d suffered through enough shows and practices with the old band that she had a system for keeping herself entertained, which largely included a good book and her leather-bound sketchbook. Both were tucked away in her ridiculously large purse, and though she hoped she wouldn’t have to use them, she wasn’t holding out for a miracle.
She loved music. Loved probably wasn’t strong enough. She was a zealot, obsessively looking for music, listening to new bands and albums on loops until she knew every word and note by heart and memory. But after suffering Spike, she was jaded.
She followed Travis into the warehouse, and as soon as the door banged closed behind her, she fell in love.
Her boot heels clicked on the worn cement floor, and she paused on a rectangle of light let in from the windows that lined the top of the thirty-foot ceilings. She tilted her head to follow the column of light, and her lips parted in awe at the beauty of the space as her eyes traced the concrete beams that arched overhead like the rib bones of some ancient beast.
“Awesome, right?” Travis smiled at her, watching her gape.
“Seriously,” she breathed.
Microphones and amps were set up in the middle of the warehouse on worn Persian rugs, and Travis’s drums stood on a small platform behind the keyboard and guitar stands. Old orange and yellow velvet couches sat in front of the microphone where the lead singer belonged. Lex smiled, still looking around as she headed to the biggest couch and sank into it.
She reached into her bag, digging around in the black hole for her book, but looked up, sensing someone in front of her.
When her eyes locked on
his, she froze.
They were the greenest eyes she’d ever seen, shocking and bright, rimmed by thick, dark lashes. His long face was graced with an elegant nose and wide lips bent in a crooked smile. And he was tall, really tall, with ebony hair that fell forward as he looked down at her. He pushed it back without seeming to think about it, but it still looked perfectly tossed, like he’d just rolled out of bed.
She realized she still hadn’t taken a breath and flushed as she fumbled and almost dropped her book.
“Uh, hi. I’m Lex.” She tossed her hand in a wave, hoping she looked casual.
He paused for a second, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. The moment seemed to stretch on forever, and as she studied him, it dawned on her that he was amused. This unnerved her, even more so when it dawned upon her that it was exactly what he wanted.
“Hey,” he said, the timbre of his voice deep and full. “I’m Dean.”
Lex realized her mouth was open. And that he was smirking. And that he was dead sexy while he was doing it.
She closed her mouth and cocked an eyebrow, putting on her snark to hide the fact that he’d gotten to her.
“Dean, huh? I heard they call you Professor Panty Dropper.”
His smile stretched wider. “Oh, is that what they say?”
“They do.”
A tall blond, who she guessed was Roe, stood at the microphone, glaring at them. “Mic check, Dean.”
They stared at each other like idiots for a split second longer before Dean turned to pick up his guitar, and he took his place with the rest of the band. She watched him walk away and blinked a few times before turning to her bag again, not looking for anything in particular — she only wanted to keep her hands busy and her eyes off of Dean while she scraped her dignity off the floor.
Lex picked up her book and leaned back on the couch, glancing at Travis, who was tightening his drumheads. He hadn’t seen their exchange, and she let out a breath.
Why should it matter? Nothing even happened, Lex.
Her heart fluttered a Yeah, right at her.
Dean leaned over the microphone with his guitar slung behind his back, catching her eye. He was a work of art with a chiseled jaw and a mouth that might have been the most perfect thing she’d ever seen. She bit her lip as his big hands slid down the pole to adjust the height.
So many thoughts fired in her brain, and even more when his voice rumbled through the speakers.
“One, two. Okay, guys, ‘Glow?’” He glanced at her, finding her eyes like they were the North Star, but they darted away too soon.
Travis chopped his sticks together to start the rhythm of a driving, bluesy rock beat, and Dean brought in a steady, tempting riff on his guitar. It was a simple seduction, a call straight into the heart of her like a siren song, and she wet her lips as he leaned up to the microphone, his mouth practically on it, and started to sing.
You already know the answer
I want to hear.
Know, baby, know,
Glow, baby, glow
Like electricity.
Send it through the phone line
And into my ear.
Find me in the dark,
Got to have you near.
You’re the one who takes me there.
My sun shines for you,
Shines off a hundred mirrors
Show me the way through.
You already know the answer
I want to hear.
So know, baby, know,
Glow, baby, glow
Like electricity.
Take me where I need to go.
Couldn’t find my way,
But take my hand so I can see.
Can’t help but stay.
He closed his eyes and bent his brows, occasionally looking down between verses as he picked the strings, playing with such ease, she wondered where he’d learned, who had taught him. It seemed so natural that he would be standing there, playing that guitar, singing that song.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, completely fascinated, hypnotized by every word that passed his lips, every note he sang as if he were singing to her.
When the song ended, she was surprised, unsure of how long it had gone on and heartbroken that it was over.
Ho-ly shit.
Lex’s mouth was gaping again, and she snapped it closed.
My God. He might actually have the power to spontaneously drop panties from here to China.
Dean turned around to discuss changes in the pace and his guitar solo, and Lex was thankful she didn’t have to hide her very physical reaction to The Dean Show. She gave herself an inward slap and opened her bag to deposit her book, swapping it with her black leather notebook.
And with that, Lex curled up on the couch, and her pencil flew across the page, sketching Dean as he stood before her, his sadness relayed in every note he sang through the session, every bend of his head, every strum of his strings. As he took shape on her page, her heart cracked and chipped while she wondered how someone so beautiful could be so broken.
Dita stretched out flat on top of her Egyptian cotton quilt and traced her fingers along the stitches that bound the floral fabric together. Perry lay on her back at the end of the bed, staring at the domed tile ceiling with a sleeping Bisoux rolled up in a tiny ball on her chest.
“Gods, Lex is already a goner.” Perry shook her head.
“I know. Did you see that? She was swooning. For a second there, I thought she was actually going to pass out.”
“I thought I might pass out along with her. Dean’s like a vagina bomb. One look, and BOOM.”
Dita laughed, and Bisoux stirred on Perry’s chest. “It’s so true though. He’s just got that thing, that charisma. Luckily for the women of the world, he’s not a predator. More of an opportunist.”
“Well, phase one is complete. You got them in the same room, and fireworks exploded in their pants. Congratulations.”
Dita nodded. “I’d definitely call that a success. Now the real work begins — attraction isn’t going to be enough for Lex.”
“No?”
“No. She’s terrified of falling in love, but she’s also terrified of being alone.”
Perry looked confused. “How exactly does that work?”
Dita rolled over to lie on her back and stared at the Moroccan tiles in bright, warm colors on the ceiling. “Well, she put her heart into this vault, and it stops anyone from really getting in. She’s so afraid she’s going to get hurt that she subconsciously shuts her emotions out. Does that make sense?”
“Sure. She’s got her heart locked up.”
“Right. She’s not actively thinking about it, and I don’t know if she even knows it, but the second she smells whomever she’s dating pulling away, she splits before they do. And if there’s too much relationship pressure on her, she runs. On top of that, she wants to do right by these guys, so once she feels that she’s a problem, she leaves too.”
Perry narrowed her eyes in thought. “So, basically, if things get complicated, she bolts.”
“In a nutshell, yes.”
“But she always has a boyfriend?” Perry petted Bisoux’s head, and he nestled into her chest.
“Always. It’s not necessarily as long-term as Travis has been, and this is the first time she’s ever lived with anyone. She wants to fall in love, but she’s also terrified of falling in love.”
“Everyone wants to fall in love though.”
“Not everyone. Some have already found it. Like look at you and Hades.”
“True, but it’s not like that was love at first sight.”
Dita laughed. “No, I guess being kidnapped puts a damper on that.”
Perry chuffed. “The kidnapping was the least of my worries at the time, but it worked out. I love him more than anything even though he was a prick.”
“I’m glad he did right by you.”
“His goodness was always there, even when I didn’t want to see it,” Perry s
aid with a shrug. “I mean, you try growing up with Zeus and Poseidon as your brothers and getting thrown into the underworld. None of them wanted that job. Hades got the short straw and was more than a little bitter about it.”
“Ugh, I remember when they made that decision. I would have been so much happier if Zeus had been put in the underworld.”
Perry jacked an eyebrow. “You really want my husband in charge of everyone? Are we talking about the same Hades?”
“Well, at least he wouldn’t have forced me to marry Heff.”
“No, probably not, but that worked itself out, too.”
Dita shook her head. “For me, not for Heff. Being forced to marry me was the cruelest thing ever done to him, and his own mother threw him out of Olympus.”
“He doesn’t seem to mind.”
“You know that’s a lie, Perry,” Dita said flatly. “He wants more than I can ever give him.”
“I know that, but what I mean is, he seems content.”
Dita huffed a laugh. “I’m sure that’s what he really wants out of life. An eternity of being content.”
“Things could be worse for him.”
“Worse than his wife refusing him and constantly banging other gods?” Dita asked.
Perry rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you guys have ever been together like that.”
She sighed. “That doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty about running around on him.”
“You’re not running around, and you don’t have to feel guilty for loving Adonis.”
Dita took a breath. “Adonis and I have been apart for so long. Sometimes I wonder why I hang on like I do. Maybe we’d be better off apart. But I can’t let him go. I never have been able to.”
“Well, at least you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You have him in your dreams.”
“Thanks to you.”
Dita laid her hand on Perry’s, her sadness and gratitude heavy in her chest as her thoughts traveled to the day of Adonis’ funeral.
