Apollo (Contemporary Mythos Book 2)

We’d been rehearsing the same routine all day. I knew the choreography so well that I could do it in my sleep—the performance with Jamie and Ace dancing together. I glanced up at the clock, ready to hunker down for the evening and binge something on Netflix. What would I watch? Supernatural, maybe? Kate had been trying to get me to watch it for over a year now. Fifteen seasons was such a huge commitment.

Jensen Ackles, though…

“Miss Berg,” Roy called out.

I snapped to attention.

“To finish off rehearsal for the day, why don’t you try it once with Ace?”

My face went numb. I forgot for a split second what “it” was.

Jamie stepped to the sidelines with a seething gaze. With his best smolder, Ace beckoned me with a come-hither curl of his finger.

Kate nudged me in the calf with her foot. With my head held high, I walked over, trying to keep my knees from shaking. When he stepped behind me, the warmth radiating from his skin sent a stream of serenity down my spine.

“You seem nervous,” he whispered into my neck.

I could feel my heart pulsing in my ears. “No. Simply dreading the thought of your grubby paws all over me.”

He chuckled and slipped his hands over my hips.

Every nerve in my lower half ignited.

“Remember how you felt when you danced yesterday,” he whispered before the music cued up.

I went on pointe, his hands guiding my hips as I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. Sliding my feet outward, I lowered into the splits. Once my thighs touched the ground, he gripped my hands, pulled me back up, and spun me around to face him. His eyes sparkled, but for the first time, his expression was gravely serious.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I wrapped my leg around his waist, steadying myself with a hand over his shoulder. He pressed his palm against my back and took two slow steps backward. On pointe, I paused, leaning forward in an angle as he moved. He pushed on my hips, giving me the extra momentum to stand up straight again. I threw the leg that’d been around him into the air along with both arms. Balancing on one foot, I spun to face the other way, ducking my arm and body forward in arabesque. I closed my eyes, knowing full well what the next move was.

He stepped up behind me, grabbing the thigh of my raised leg and wrapping his arm around my waist.

Sun and evergreen infiltrated my every thought, but it only propelled my moves further. With him holding me, I lifted the leg still on the floor, curling it toward my opposite knee. He dipped me and delicately sniffed near the nape of my neck.

Thud. Thud.

He set me down and grabbed one of my hands. We dived into the most intricate part of the dance, a mix between ballet and a rumba. It required me to stay on pointe for the entire group of combinations. I quickly crossed one foot over the other. He spun me into him, our gazes locking.

It was different when we weren’t talking—a silent communication—a connection through art I couldn’t understand. My teeth pinched my lower lip. His gaze dropped to my mouth before spinning me back out. He dropped his hands to my hips and guided my turns as I did four of them in a row, throwing my leg out and in with every twirl. I grabbed onto his forearm, dipping my other arm up and behind me, leaning away.

The final move would feel the most intimate. I’d have to trust he wouldn’t drop me. I gulped, being at his mercy with his hand clamped around mine.

He stared as if eliciting a sign from me that I was ready. I gave a discreet nod, and he pulled me toward him. I leaped up, throwing my arms behind me and bending my legs. My stomach collided with his chest—my breasts hovering near his face. His hands grabbed my backside, holding me up with little effort.

Thud. Thud. Thuddy-Thud. Thud.

All I could hear was my harsh breaths. All I could concentrate on was Ace’s firm grip on my ass.

He loosened his hold, letting me slide down his body until my feet met the ground. After he let go, he took a step back, examining me like an inkblot. He looked about as confused as I felt.

“Laurel, with how long you’ve been dancing, your turn out should’ve improved.” Roy shook his head. “It should be coming from the hips.”

His harsh words broke me from the euphoric stupor. The funny thing was, I couldn’t improve. No matter how hard I tried to force it. My body was physically incapable.

“Are you kidding me?” Ace walked up to Roy like he was ready to sock him in the face.

Roy blinked. “Pardon me?”

I wanted to scream.

“The performance she just gave, and all you can point out is her feet not turning out far enough?” Ace glowered at Roy.

Roy cleared his throat, scanning the room of shocked faces. “Technique is as important as the performance, Ace. I realize ballet is newer for you, but—”

Ace made them stand toe-to-toe. “I’ve been in the entertainment business for a very long time. She’s one of the best dancers I’ve seen. You keep focusing on her weaknesses, and you’re going to squelch her spark.”

One of the best dancers he’s seen? Who was this guy? Certainly not the same rock star I’d been verbally dueling.

“You’re all dismissed.” Roy’s tone was derisive. “Ace, I understand you’re a rock star, and you’re used to being able to talk to anyone in any manner you wish. But undermine me in front of my dancers again, and I’ll find another performing artist.”

Roy brushed past him, and Ace curled his hands into fists. He sniffed before blowing air from his nostrils in one quick puff.

Rather than waiting for Jamie to gloat about Roy’s ribbing, I made for the hallway. Kate followed at my heels.

“Hey, you okay?” Her fingers grazed my elbow.

I brushed her away. “I’ll be fine. Nothing a six-pack and binge-watching can’t cure.”

“Are you sure? I could join you?”

I tore off my pointe shoes and shoved them into my bag. “Kate. You have dinner with your mom tonight. Go. I’ll be fine.”

I never wanted Kate to miss out on any moment she could with her parents. Mine was taken from me in my early twenties—a car accident. Talk about squelching a spark.

She frowned and nodded, patting my shoulder before walking away. I threw my clothes on over my leotard and tights and power walked for the exit.

“Hey,” Ace called out.

My hand was on the handle. I was so close. “Yes?” I didn’t dare look at him. I couldn’t.

“Hang out with me tonight.”

I heard what he said, but the words caught me so off guard it sounded like a foreign language. Furrowing my brow, I peeked at him over my shoulder. “What?”

He twirled the rings on his fingers. “Your day turned pretty shitty. I’m offering to distract you.”

I laughed as I bumped my hip into the door. “Thanks, but no thanks, Ace.”

He crossed the hall in two quick strides. “Look. I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re a great dancer. You’re passionate. Driven. The music flows through you like a never-ending current.”

“Why are you so nice to me all of a sudden?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, you still annoy me, but I can give credit where it’s due.”

“You even stood up for me. Why?”

He clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Are you going to hang out with me or not? I’ll go by myself, but it would look pretty sad to the paparazzi.”

Was I really considering this? Neither of us spoke a word about what happened during that dance. I planned to bottle it up for the rest of eternity.

“Depends on what you had in mind.” I bumped my butt into the door several times, making it creak.

“Archery.”

I froze. “Archery? I’ve never even held a bow before.”

“Perfect. I’m going to change, and we’ll head over. The indoor range is right down the street.” He turned for the bathroom.

“This doesn’t mean I like you.”

His smile turned downright devious. “I’d be disappointed if it did.” He slapped his palm into the door and headed in.

I stepped outside to avoid Jamie. It was probably eating her up inside that she missed her chance to rub her nose in my misfortune. Dark clouds scattered the sky, threatening rain or an all-out storm. I plopped down on a bench and dropped my head between my knees with a sigh.

“Come on, pouty lips,” Ace said as he walked past me.

I lifted my head. “We’re walking there? It’s going to rain at any moment.”

“It’ll clear up.”

A crackle of lightning streaked the sky.

I cocked an eyebrow.

“Wait for it.” He pointed a finger to the heavens.

The clouds parted faster than I’d ever seen them move. The sun blazed with light and warmth. I slowly rose, clutching my bag against my chest.

“How the ever-loving—” I stammered, staring up at the clear sky in awe.

Ace stood several feet away, motioning with his hand for me to follow. “Let’s go, Sparky.”

“Sparky?” I did a hitch-step to catch up with him. “I’m not a dog.”

“Interesting. You automatically assumed I was comparing you to a canine?”

“Didn’t you?”

He stuck his bottom lip out and shrugged without answering.

He wasn’t kidding when he’d said it was right down the road. A block, to be exact. Can’t say I ever purposely looked for an archery range, though.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll get swarmed by rabid fans?” I asked as he held the door open for me with an exaggerated flourish.

“They’ll give us our own range, trust me.”

Of course, they would. How silly of me.

He flagged the man behind the counter who dropped his sub sandwich in his lap once he realized who’d stepped into his range. Mustard dripped down his chin and shirt, and he tried to wipe it away but missed most of it. He pushed back on his desk chair, rubbing his hands on the back of his pants.

“How—how can I help you?” He wanted to FanGirl over him. I could see it in his desperate gaze and erratic foot tapping.

“Mind if we get our own range?” Ace asked.

“Oh. You want to—you want to shoot, really?” The man asked as he pointed toward the ranges.

Ace’s teeth sparkled. “I’m the frontman for Apollo’s Suns. Gotta keep those archery skills sharp.”

The man laughed, his forehead beading with sweat. “Duh. Of course, um sure, yeah, let me set you up in range C. I’ll grab the key and meet you.”

“Sparky?” Ace bowed.

I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and breezed past him. “I don’t like that nickname.”

“Well, I do, so too bad.”

The attendant scuttled over and unlocked the door. “Here we are. After a quick safety briefing, you’ll be ready to go.”

Ace pressed a hand between my shoulder blades, ushering me through the door. “We’ll be fine. I got it covered. That cool?”

“Uhhh,” the man said after a few nervous chuckles.

Ace stared at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yeah. Sure. Yeah. Just let me know when you’re done.”

“Thank you.” Ace dipped his chin before disappearing into the range.

He headed straight to the wall of varying bows. I set my bag down and patted my hands on my thighs. He returned with an orange bow and a smaller yellow one that he handed to me.

“Want me to go first?” He curled his hand around the bow like it was an extension of his arm.

“Obviously,” I snorted.

He plucked an arrow from a stand near the fixed lines. He notched the arrow in three motions, lifted his arms to aim, and let it go. The arrow whizzed through the air planting a hair to the right of the bullseye. It was as if he didn’t have to think about it. He turned to look at me, motioning with his head for me to approach the line.

I dragged my feet, holding the bow as if it’d ignite into flames. Archery couldn’t be that difficult, right? All I had to do was find my inner Katniss Everdeen.

He grabbed an arrow and held his hands out. “I’ll show you how to notch it, and then you can do the next ones yourself. Good?”

I nodded, and he secured the arrow to the string of my bow, showing where the grooves rested against it.

He patted my arms. “Make yourself perpendicular to the target.”

I turned my body sideways, pinching my fingers to the arrow to keep it on the string.

He slid his foot between mine and nudged them apart. “Go ahead and lift your arms.” His breath skirted over my neck. My insides fluttered.

I lifted my arms, and from behind me, he adjusted them. His fingers grazed my right arm, bringing my elbow up until my hand was below my chin. The fluttering turned into pulsing.

“Was this your plan all along? An excuse to get your hands on me?” The words came out breathy.

“It wasn’t actually, but then again, I already have an excuse for that, don’t I?” His lips ever so softly grazed the tip of my ear.

The dance.

I squinted, trying to force my thoughts on the bullseye in front of me. “How do I shoot this thing?”

“Line the point of the arrow with your target. You want to stay relaxed but firm. Clenching your butt helps to keep your torso turned the right way.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious.”

I gulped as my mind jumped straight to the gutter, trying to imagine his clenched butt. “And what do I do, simply let go?”

“Yes. The goal is for a clean release. Don’t try to boost the arrow forward. You want as little interference as possible. Whenever you’re ready.” His hands slipped away from my arms, and he took a step back.

I held my breath, lined up the shot, and let go. It whistled through the air and planted straight into the bullseye.

I shrieked. “Did you see that?”

“Holy shit.” Ace stared down the range, blinking.

“Don’t you dare say beginner’s luck.”

He grabbed another arrow. “Alright then, hotshot. Do it again.”

I notched it and took the same position as last time. It was refreshing having my feet in a position I could handle. I stuck my tongue out, lifted the bow, aimed, and hit the bullseye—again. Celebrating my victory, I did some random form of the chicken dance, pointing at Ace with a wide grin.

He rubbed his chin and scratched the tip of his nose with his thumb. “Alright. I was holding back since it was your first time shooting.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped away, resting one end of my bow on the floor. “Oh, okay. Convenient.”

He grabbed two arrows and notched them. Looking over his shoulder at me, he lifted the bow and loosed. The arrows landed precisely on either side of mine, creating a perfect square out of all four.

I stared wide-eyed, my grip tightening on the bow.

He grabbed another arrow, notched, loosed. Repeating it one after another, he launched arrow after arrow until he created a perfect circle around the square. He let his hair scatter over his eyes, holding the bow across his shoulders as he sauntered over.

I still hadn’t blinked. “Who are you?”

“Ace of Apollo’s Suns.” He held his hand out to shake. “I believe we’ve met already.”

I swatted his hand. “That—” I pointed at the target littered with arrows. “Isn’t possible.”

He looked behind him and then back to me. “Sure, it is, because I just did it.”

The rational part of my brain bashed the rest of my mind with a hammer.

It didn’t make any sense.

“Is it working?” He bent forward, bringing our faces closer.

“What?”

His lips curved. “My distraction.” A fire lit in his gaze.

Memories of his callused fingers scraping my inner thighs invaded my mind. He was distracting in every way I didn’t need. Or so I kept telling myself.

“I don’t think I’m going to gratify you with a response.”

“Good.” He lifted my bow and shoved it into my hands. “I’m going to clear the arrows. I know you’ll be tempted to shoot me while my back is turned, but if you could wait until I’m out of the way, that’d be swell.”

My hands twisted around the bow as I watched him pluck the arrows from the target. Every solution I came up with of how he managed to shoot the way he did seemed more absurd than the last one. There was more to Ace than he let on. The curiosity that bubbled in my core irritated me.

When he returned, he handed me an arrow. “Let’s see how many more bullseyes you can hit.”

We spent the next several hours shooting arrows. For such a simple activity, archery did precisely what Ace intended. Not once did I think about Roy—about Jamie. He continued to show off his skills, and it took everything I had not to swoon. I am a red-blooded woman. But it wasn’t because his charm was getting to me; it was the fact we got along. We talked. We laughed. Almost as if we were becoming…friends.