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“I know it was all three of you. You’re saying that so I won’t blame my dad.”
“Don’t! He’s innocent. It was all me. If you’re angry, I’ll accept—”
“I’m not angry. I’mannoyed.I’m texting my mom to call you off.”
Zeus gasps. “Daisy, please. Don’t do that. I promise—we won’t interfere with your life, like you asked. Do this one thing for me. Don’t bring your mother into this.”
“For such a big, scary man, you’re super pathetic.”
“You think I’m scary? Hades! She says I’m scary. Are you scared?”
My dad’s answer is too unkind to repeat.
“We love you, Daisy.” Zeus talks over him.
“Hey, is that Daisy?” Poseidon’s there too, now, and I miss them all so much I could scream. “Why didn’t you assholes tell me you were calling? I wanted to talk to her about—”
The doorbell rings. It’s a notification on my phone rather than a tone.
“Daisy,” Zeus says. “Tell Hercules—”
“I have to go. He’s here, and I don’t forgive you for this. Love you,bye.”
I drop my phone on the bed and cover my eyes with both arms.
This isnotthe day I thought I’d be having. And I’m still in my dress from last night.
I could get changed, but leaving Hercules out on the front porch would be rude.
Not that Icareabout being rude to Hercules. He’s always been a hostile asshole, and I’m sure nothing’s changed since he joined the Army and I came to California. I ignore the strong urge to go back to sleep and forget about all of this and get out of bed.
Plastic digs into the soft part of my foot. Oh, wonderful. An orange syringe cap. I owe Shane a bonusandan apology for putting him through…
…whatever happened last night. Can’t have been pretty.
I throw the cap in the mini wastebasket and go to face the enemy.
Sorry. My new security guard.
I amnotrelieved he’s here. That’s not what this feeling is. I’m not relievedat allthat I have an excuse to look at him again. In fact, I’m mad about it.
Probably.
In the entryway I tug my dress into place, ignore that I haven’t taken a single glance at my hair, and open the door. “I know you’re only here because—”
My eyes land on Hercules, standing there in the shaded noontime sun, and every word from the English language disappears from my mind.
Holy shit.
Holyshit.
He’s always been muscular. It’s one of the things I noticed about him the first time we met. It was about the only thing I could notice, since the first time I saw Hercules, he was punching out a guy who’d tried to—
Well. Okay. My eyes landed roughly at his waist. He’s leaner, and…harder. I’ve never seen jeans fit like that. My eyes climb involuntarily from his waistband to where tattoos poke out from beneath a fitted black T-shirt, and finally to his face.
Sweet mother of Christ.
The last time I saw Hercules in person was…five years ago?
