Rush (Gods #2)(8)

"And I'm guessing you don't already have plans," she says to me, ignoring Ares. "Otherwise, you would have said so by now."

"I don't have plans," I admit.

She grins. "Then, it's settled." She claps her hands together. "We're going to the movies."





I'm standing outside the movie theater where I arranged to meet Missy  and, unfortunately, Mr. Perfect at seven thirty. My hair is down and  wavy. I'm wearing a little makeup, my black skinny jeans with ripped  knees, a gray sweater, my leather jacket, and my pink Dr. Martens. I  have my bag slung over my shoulder, containing all the usual stuff, plus  an umbrella because my luck with rain recently has not been good.

I'm stupidly excited for this evening. I spent way too much time getting  ready for a night at the cinema. But, when you get out as little as I  do, you have to make the most of it.

I got here a bit early, so I've been waiting a while. But they are a  little late. I check the time on my phone again. Seven forty.

The movie starts at seven forty-five; that's why we agreed to meet at seven thirty. Give us time to get tickets and food.

A sinking feeling of being stood up starts to take root.

Maybe Ares told Missy what I did. The drunk-driving, crashing my ex's  car into that wall. I wouldn't be surprised if he did tell her. It's no  secret that he hates me, and I got the distinct impression he doesn't  want me spending time with his sister.

Maybe he told her all the bad things about me, and she changed her mind about coming. I wouldn't blame her.

No. She's a good person. She wouldn't do that-stand me up like this. Ares would. But not Missy.

And she's only ten minutes late, for goodness' sake. Chill out, Ari.

A gust of wind blows past, kicking up my hair. I wrap my arms around my  chest and shift on my feet, trying to ward off the chill.

"Jailbird."

I turn at the sound of Ares's voice saying my name. Christ, not my name! The jerk even has me responding to it now.                       
       
           



       

"Please don't call me that." I frown at him, not even able to feel  relief that he's here and I haven't been stood up, like I feared.

He doesn't say anything, just stands there in front of me like a big tree.

I glance past him. "Where's Missy?"

"She's not coming. She had me come tell you that she's sorry, but her  best friend's having a baby, and she went into early labor a few hours  ago. She tried to call you on your work phone, but it went straight to  voice mail."

"Oh … " Disappointment swells inside me. "My dad told me to turn it off  when I'm not working, so I don't get calls from any of the players at  stupid times of the day."

"Well, whatever. She left you a voice mail, explaining."

"Oh. Okay. Well, thank you for coming to tell me. I know you probably didn't want to. But I appreciate it all the same."

He's staring down at me, arms folded over his chest.

"Well"-I step back away from him-"bye then."

I turn to leave, but his voice stops me.

"Where are you going?"

I glance back at him. "Home."

"Didn't you want to watch this stupid movie?"

"Well, yes … "

"So, why are you going home?"

Good question.

I can still watch it even though Missy couldn't make it. I'm an  independent woman. I can go to the movies alone. If I don't, I'll just  go home and probably watch a movie on Netflix. I might as well watch a  movie here, where I'll be surrounded by other people for a few hours  even if they are strangers.

"Yeah, I think I will still watch it," I say more to myself than him,  turning toward the cinema. "Thanks again for coming to let me know about  Missy. And would you please tell her that I said congratulations to her  friend on her new baby?"

I don't wait for his response as I turn to go inside the theater.

I reach the door when I realize that he's behind me.

I stop and glance back at him. "Um, what are you doing?"

"Same thing you are. Going to watch the film."

"You want to watch this movie? You just said a few minutes ago that it was stupid."

"I have no desire to watch this movie at all. But I promised my sister  that I wouldn't let you watch it alone. So, here I am." He spreads his  hands out, and I frown.

"Seriously, you don't need to do me any favors."

He frowns back at me. "I'm not. I'm doing it for my sister."

"Well, I let you off the hook. You can go home." I gesture toward the street.

He follows the direction of my hand, like he's actually considering it.  Then, he looks back at me and shakes his head. "No can do. If Missy  finds out I left you here, there'll be hell to pay. And I could really  do without having my ear bent by her."

"Don't worry; I won't tell her you didn't stay. And you won't tell her.  So, there you go. You're free to leave." I let my hands go wide.

He lets out a low laugh. "My sister will question me to the tenth degree  about the movie when she gets home. She'll know instantly if I haven't  seen it."

"Wikipedia. You can get the whole plot on there. There you go."

"Missy can smell a lie at fifty paces. She's like a sniffer dog for  bullshit. Seems like we're stuck with each other for the next few  hours."

"No, we're really not. Just because you promised your sister you'd stay doesn't mean I have to go along with it."

He laughs again, eyes widening with humor. "You really don't want me  here, do you?" His hand slaps his chest. "You're starting to hurt my  feelings, Jailbird."

"Good," I bite. "And why the hell would I want you here? You've been nothing but an asshole to me since the moment I met you."

"Well, not the moment I met you … " He grins, his eyes brightening, reminding me of my semi-naked bent-over moment, and I snap.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I should've said, the second you realized who I was. So,  please, excuse me if I don't want to spend my evening with a  judgmental, bigoted asshole who can't see past the end of his own  so-called perfection to understand other people and their problems!"

When I break off, I'm breathing a little harder, and his face is blank.

"I never said I was perfect."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Whatever. Just … what-the-fuck-ever. Good-bye, Ares."

I spin on my heel and stomp into the theater.

It's not until I reach the queue for tickets when I realize that he's standing right behind me.                       
       
           



       

For fuck's sake!

"Stop following me," I hiss at him.

"I'm not." He gives me a look of innocence, shoulders lifting. "I'm just going to watch the movie."

"The movie you don't want to watch."

His lips widen into a grin.

"God, you're such a jackass! Just go away and leave me alone, please."

My voice hitches on the word please, and afraid I might burst into tears  or punch him in his handsome, arrogant face, I turn around, moving  forward, as the queue shifts.

A moment later, I feel heat at my back and almost jump out of my skin when I feel his hot breath against my ear.

"Now, now, Jailbird, there's no need to be so bitchy."

I almost bite my tongue off at that. I turn my head to him to tell him  to fuck off, but I misjudge how close he actually is. My nose bumps his,  our lips literally centimeters apart.

My breath catches. My body freezes. My nose floods with his scent.  Woodsy-scented aftershave and the smell of mint on his breath.

Every feminine part of me comes to life. It's like my body is suddenly  wide awake after a long stretch of being dormant and is saying, Well,  hello there, man with a penis. It's been a while. Wanna come play?

I hear him suck in a breath, and his eyes flicker down to my lips.

I lick them without conscious thought, and his eyes ignite with fire, causing a tightening in my lower belly.

Jesus.

I exhale a ragged breath. His eyes lift to mine.

"You want to kiss me, Jailbird?" he whispers and inches closer. So close  that I feel his lips brush mine when he talks again. "Yeah … " he  breathes out. "That's never going to happen."

Everything good I was feeling inside dies. My face stings with embarrassment.

I straighten up, arms crossing over my chest. "I know it wouldn't  because I would rather kiss herpes than you, you arrogant prick."

"God, I love it when you talk dirty to me."

He smirks, and I give him the middle finger.

I face forward and walk straight toward the now-open ticket booth, ignoring the rumble of laughter behind me.

"One to see The Greatest Showman, please," I say to the girl at the counter.

I pay for my ticket and walk straight in the direction of the food, not giving him a backward glance.

After buying a large tub of popcorn and a soda with no more sightings of  Ares, hopefully meaning he got the message and left, I head into the  theater.