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Apollo rarely let himself be seen drinking beer. It was considered lower class. But when it was just us, before dinner, he liked a beer. And tonight, I was having one with him.
“Happy birthday, Harlow,” he said as we clinked glasses.
“Thanks, Apollo.”
He took a sip and somehow managed to dribble a little down his chin.
“Frist time drinking?” I teased and he grinned widely.
“Shut up,” he chuckled as he wiped his face.
“I’ll show you how to do it.” I mimicked bringing the glass to my lips and taking an exaggerated sip, without spilling it, then put the glass back down.
He shook his head, still smiling. “Oh! Thanks. Now it’s all so clear.”
I laughed and the smile we shared was full of warmth and shared experience. There was so much between us. So much history here. So much potential. So much love. We just weren’t in love with each other. Not like we were supposed to be. Not like everyone thought. Well, was supposed to think. I doubted the Magdalens he fucked thought he was in love with me. If they did, they must have thought he had a mighty funny way of showing it.
“I never pictured you as the having a beer kind of girl,” he said to me, his tone musing.
I shrugged, as much shrugging off the reminder that he didn’t know me that well anymore. “Call it Florence’s bad influence.”
The corner of his lips tipped up in a cheeky half-smirk. “All of Florence’s influence is bad.”
“She’s my best friend, Apollo.”
“So?”
“So, you don’t get to judge my best friend.”
“Why not?” he asked, but his tone was light and teasing and I didn’t take him entirely seriously.
“Becauseyourbest friend is Valen Kincaid.”
Even saying his name felt dangerous to me. Even just saying his name, knowing he was in the vague vicinity, had my stomach fluttering and made me want to bite my lip. Like that was going to hide what I was thinking rather than broadcasting it to the world. Thankfully, my beer saved me from announcing to the world just what my smaller head was thinking about Valen.
Apollo chuckled as he sat back in his chair. He was as relaxed as I’d ever seen him. He wasn’t keeping one eye on the room around him like he knew we were being watched. He wasn’t worried about acting accordingly. He didn’t need to find fault with the wait staff just because he needed to remind everyone he was superior. It was just us in our own little world.
“No, I suppose not,” he conceded with a nod. “Valk and Florence. That’d be a pairing.”
I wanted to say that jealousy didn’t threaten to consume me, but I wasn’t in the habit of lying to myself too often.
I covered with a sceptical laugh. “That would be like dumping gallons of petrol on an already burning church. Whoosh,” I said, mimicking the explosion with my hand.
Apollo laughed. A full head back, belly rumbling laugh. “You’re right. Even the cockroaches wouldn’t survive that.” He sobered somewhat, training his smile on me. “She’s not too bad. Considering.”
“Considering what?” I asked as I picked up my menu, a smile on my own face.
“Considering she loathes me.”
“Oh, what’s the matter?” I teased. “You just not used to girls hating you?”
“It’s a novel experience, I’ll admit.”
“Well, I doubt she’ll change her mind any time soon,” I warned him.
He took my hand again and I looked at him.
“What?” I asked.
