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I tried keeping my eyes on Apollo, but they kept shifting back to Valen’s face.
His eyes were hard, and his jaw was harder, but I saw the heat in the depths of those soulful eyes. I saw it for what it really was. And it was only then that I realised that it had been there for a while, expertly hidden behind his hatred of me. Desire. Wanton lust.
Well, it was nice to know my feelings for him were mutual.
Not.
I could feel a new sense of anticipation shimmer around us. It set my body on high alert. Like I was waiting for him to touch me. I was ready for him to touch me. I could almost feel him. Where his fingers would stroke. What he’d explore. Florence and I had discussed the theory of a hate fuck numerous time – though never in direct relation to Valen – and I knew just by looking at him that he’d meet and surpass every expectation.
“We’re getting cake,” Florence answered, when it seemed I was incapable.
I nodded blankly, seemingly stuck in a silent battle of wills with Valen. I saw the challenge on his face; he dared me to do something about this new sizzle that sparked between us. Dared me to say something, do something, that made it real. Brought it out of silent assumption and forced us both to admit the last thing we ever wanted to.
Florence elbowed me. I blinked and forced myself to look at Apollo.
“Cake, yes.”
If Apollo had noticed that I’d been unable to keep my eyes of his best friend, then he didn’t show it. “Sounds good. We’d join you, but I have…somewhere to be, unfortunately.”
I didn’t know if it was just me, but Apollo seemed to be getting lazy with hiding his trysts. It was no small wonder the whole school knew about them. The nuns were probably even talking about them. That’s how obvious he was getting. When I looked at Valen, he seemed to be thinking the same thing.
And there was something new in his eyes. Not new, just resurfaced. Contempt. A contempt that threatened to wrinkle his nose and raise a snarl at his lips. A contempt that set his square jaw hard.
He knew that I knew what Apollo had to go and do instead of hanging out with me and he… I didn’t know what it was. It was like he… Surely he didn’t care? But he thought I should say something? Do something? What exactly was I supposed to do? A powerless fake girlfriend tell a God who he could and couldn’t stick it in? I didn’t think so.
“That’s fine,” I said, turning a smile to Apollo.
I had to ignore it. I had to ignore what he got up to. I’d go mad if I let myself care about every single time he was with someone else. It was the strangest sensation. I didn’t care so much for Present Harlow, but I cared for Future Harlow. For the one who had to be in a real relationship with him one day and who didn’t know if he’d still be fucking around on the side.
“You guys have a good afternoon,” I finished.
“You too, sweetheart,” Apollo said affectionately, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek as his hand went to my waist.
I flicked a quick look to Valen and saw the disdain flare to life. The wrinkle. The snarl. The jaw twitch.
I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew he wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t annoyed because Apollo got to kiss me and touch me and be close to me and he couldn’t. He was annoyedwithme. I just couldn’t really see what, particularly now, he could be annoyed with.
Apollo pulled away from me with a gentle squeeze of my arm and whacked Valen’s stomach.
“All right, let’s,” he said to Valen as he started moving away.
Valen’s eyes stayed on me, narrowed in what felt like both a warning and a wanting.
A potent mix that I saw every time we crossed paths for the next week.
And, given that I was often by Apollo’s side and Valen was always by Apollo’s side, to say nothing of the fact that we both had classes in the same school and often together, we crossed paths a lot. A. Lot.
Every encounter left me feeling hot and bothered. The intensity turning up with each one. I already hated Valen, but I’d never hated him because I wanted him until that week. I’d never hated anyone because I wanted them until that week. Quite possibly because the only person I’d ever wanted that much was my fake boyfriend and future husband’s closest friend and protector.
By the next weekend, I was itching to let off some steam. I’d avoided talking to Valen as much as possible, which wasn’t difficult because we always tried to say no more than necessary to each other.
On Saturday night, there was a party in the woods, like there was wont to be. The nuns and teachers knew all about them and pretended wholeheartedly that they didn’t. Most times, they were little more than alcohol-fuelled orgies. Couples separating over the course of the night, only to come back to the bonfire to recharge before another round, with the same person or not. The Saints did what the Saints did, and peddled the more recreational of their daddies’ wares. Uppers. Downers. Undoubtedly roofies. I didn’t know enough about drugs to begin to guess what they all were but, if it altered your mental state, it could probably be found passing hands at those parties in the woods.
Florence and I went to every one. Needless to say, she was the only one who’d ever done any separating from the bonfire. I was always watched carefully. Not that it was necessary, because very few people would have been stupid enough to approach me for more than a chat with the Saints and Angels watching over their God’s intended, like he was being faithful.
Marco, Fender and Gage had been taking it in turns to have one eye on me all night. Valen had been doing a decent job at pretending he didn’t have both eyes on me, but I’d glared right back at him, daring him to do something about whatever it was that was going on between us. Apollo had been out of sight on and off and I’d been drowning my boredom and annoyance in as many bottles as possible.
“Princess,” Valen said, appearing at my side and I didn’t even bother to ignore the thrill that ran through me.
