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There’s no reason at all for that knowledge to sting now.
Showering any longer would translate to hiding, so I shut off the water and take a few minutes to dry off, lotion up, and braid my hair back from my face. I stare at myself in the mirror. I look exactly like I always have. Too pretty, even when I attempt to downplay it, even when I’m tired and there are faint smudges beneath my eyes. The face of a woman people see as a prize, have always seen as a prize. They only care about the surface until what’s underneath inconveniences them, and then they drop me like yesterday’s trash. Or, worse, try to change me. Yeah, this face has brought me nothing but trouble.
Still, it’s the only one I have.
I sigh, straighten my spine, and walk out of the bathroom. The first thing I notice is that someone—probably Patroclus—changed the sheets and made the bed. The memory of why that’s necessary hits me hard enough to make every muscle in my body clench. Gods, that orgasm was good. The second one was even better, albeit in a different way. My entire body aches faintly from what the three of us did, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want more.
I just can’t be sure why I want more. To keep hiding from the uncomfortable reality that I am in over my head for real this time? Or simply because I’m in lust with two men I most certainly shouldn’t be indulging with? Neither option is particularly flattering. Both will bite me in the ass before this is over.
Achilles is probably my strongest competitor, though the rest of the champions are no slouches. But he wants Ares nearly as bad as I do, and that gives him an edge I can’t afford to ignore. Having sex with him… Continuing to have sex with him… It’s a mistake.
Sleeping with Patroclus, his boyfriend, lover, partner? Whatever they call each other, it’s like poking a bear with a sharpened stick. I’m making things complicated, and if somehow I fail and Achilles becomes Ares, that means he’ll be my husband and both of them will be in close proximity with me for the rest of my life. Messy does not even begin to cover it.
I’m not sure I care. Not enough to stop.
I find the men sitting at the table by the kitchenette. Achilles is still wearing his gray sweatpants, and I can’t help my physical response to seeing them and his bare chest. His body is unreal, and knowing how effectively he uses it for his partners’ pleasure? I shiver a little. Patroclus has pulled on a pair of shorts, but he’s left off his shirt, too. This must be how they always are in the mornings: half-dressed and relaxed, easing into their day with a comfort I barely comprehend.
After I graduated from high school, the first thing I did was move out of my father’s penthouse and into one of my own. Living with Zeus was hardly a comfortable, soothing environment, and my siblings and I all dealt with that in different ways. Usually by starting shit. Living alone was a huge adjustment, and I quickly became territorial enough that I rarely let people stay the night. Even—especially—romantic partners. I’m not a morning person, and that means I have a difficult time getting my public persona into place before noon.
The only time I let that practice slip was when I dated Paris, and he gave me cause to regret it. It only took a few days of waking up together for the comments to start. Initially they were innocent enough. You look tired, Helen. It didn’t take long to graduate to full-on criticism. Maybe you shouldn’t leave the bedroom without makeup. What if you get photographed through the window? They’re going to think you’re sick. It got to the point where I’d wake up an hour before him to put my face on and do my hair so he wouldn’t have ammunition against me.
Paris, of course, just found other ways to pick me apart at the seams.
Best not to think too hard about the fact that I haven’t even thought to keep that mask secure around these two men. Achilles is the first person outside of family who’s experienced my bite, and Patroclus brings out something unforgivably soft in me that I’d completely forgotten existed. More, I haven’t worn makeup except when we’re going to be in front of a camera, and neither one of them has made a single comment. I’m not certain they even noticed.
The scent of coffee makes my mouth water, so I make a beeline for the counter. “I didn’t realize we had a coffee maker in our rooms.” I’m sure I would have seen it in mine if I had one, but I’ve been understandably distracted since arriving here.
