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“Nothing.”

“When you say nothing, it means it’s something.”

Ares helps Kayla through the hatch, one hand steady on her back. He is focused on her in the same way he focuses on a problem he is trying to solve. It’s not his normal act. I almost tell Vero, knowing he would pester Ares into sharing with him what’s going on, but I want to see how this plays out. So instead, I file it away for later and pull on my shirt.

“Let’s go find out what Clay’s problem is now.”

Chapter Thirteen

Kayla

I wake up feeling like I’m trapped in a furnace, a warm body pressed against mine. I open my eyes and know I am in Ares’s room again. This is the second time I have woken up in here, but at least this time I was conscious when I arrived. Last night, he let me shower off the paint, and when I came out, he was sitting on the bed with a first aid kit open beside him. He cleaned the wound on my ribs as I yawned, then after he was done, he pulled back the covers and told me to get some sleep. He said that once I woke up, he would take me home. Though I don’t know when he got in beside me.

I lie still and stare at the arm across my waist, studying his features as he sleeps, the softness of his face while he doesn’t know he is being watched. It’s like seeing a whole different side to him. One he doesn’t show people. For whatever reason, this man is guarded and puts on a show for those around him.

Shifting slightly, I turn onto my back, and his arm moves to my stomach. I look over and his face is relaxed, the sharp edges have melted, and his dirty-blonde hair is pushed back from his face, making him look younger. I run my eyes from the line of his jaw to his broad shoulders and down to the sheet that sits low across his stomach, then back up to his face, and that’s when I notice a faint scar along his jaw. It’s barely visible and runs from his ear, down his jawline, and stops before his chin. I can’t help wondering how he got it, and I unconsciously reach out and touch it. The tips of my fingers run along his skin, and Ares’s eyes fly open.

I pause, neither of us moving a muscle for a long moment.

Awareness buzzes through every part of my body that’s touching him, coalescing where his hand is now on my stomach beneath my shirt. I don’t know who breaks the spell first, but before I can blink, his mouth is on mine, and I’m wrapping my hand around the back of his neck. I pull him closer, and his body shifts over mine.

Ares kisses me like it’s the first time he has ever kissed a woman. One of his hands slides up my ribs and stops just below the dressing.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I whisper against his lips, and he slides his hand over it.

He pulls my shirt over my head and gazes down at me.

I can’t read him, so I reach up and pull him down to me before he can overthink things too much.

He doesn’t rush, moving his hands over me like he wants to take his time. His mouth grazes my throat, then he kisses down to my collarbone, along the curve of my shoulder, and every inch of my body. Ares lifts slightly to pull down his sweats, then settles back between my legs. He eases himself inside me, and I stutter out a breath at the sheer size of him—Vero was not exaggerating.

“Ares,” I gasp out, overwhelmed by the feeling of utter fullness.

His every move is controlled, his focus entirely on me. It makes it hard to think straight as he reads every noise and the way my body responds to him and adjusts himself just right. Now I also understand something Vero told me about everyone on the island going to him; it’s because he makes you feel like you are the only thing that exists. He has learned you completely.

I dig my fingers into his back and stop myself from thinking about what any of this means. When I come apart, it’s slow and yet it hits everywhere at the same time. There’s no need for theatrics or yelling out his name. I whisper it reverently against his neck, just below his ear, and he shivers, then buries his face in my neck as he comes.

Several heartbeats later, Ares lifts his head and looks at me, then right before my eyes, all his walls go back up. He moves off me and sits on the edge of the bed with his back to me, and I give him a moment.

“That was . . .” he starts and then stops. “An inevitable conclusion to the circumstances.” I stare at the back of his head. “We have been in close proximity, and a physical response was statistically likely.”

I snort. “Statistically likely,” I repeat.

He turns to look at me over his shoulder, and his expression is neutral and gives me absolutely nothing. “It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

I sit up and reach for the shirt at the end of the bed, pulling it on. “It isn’t complicated,” I reply. “But since you just told me sleeping with me was a result of proximity and statistics, it’s not complicated, but it’s now weird.”

“I didn’t mean . . .”

“It’s fine, Ares.” I slide out of bed and find my camo pants from the night before folded on the bedside table. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m a big girl.”

He watches me but says nothing more as I pick up my boots. I take one last look at him sitting on the edge of his bed, watching me with those unreadable eyes.

“Thank you for patching me up,” I say and leave before he responds. I have had some weird one-night stands and awkward escape moments, but this probably takes the cake.

The hallway is empty when I step out of Ares’s room, which I am grateful for, until the door directly opposite opens and Clay steps out.

We both stop.