Through My Window (Hidalgos #1)(55)
“We’ll be down in five minutes,” he tells Marco. He stops in front of me, gives me a short kiss, and heads to the bathroom.
Am I dreaming? Ares is being cute after having sex. Is he on drugs? Did he hit his head on a rock?
When Ares comes back, I use his phone to let Dani know that I’m okay, and I tell her to call Yoshi to make sure he’s safe. We head downstairs, and I can’t help the nerves that come over me. I know Ares’s group of friends, but I’m not yet familiar with them. The only moment we’ve shared wasn’t exactly perfect. I remember clearly how I danced for Marco, Ares’s jealous reaction, and Luis and Gregory’s laughter.
My hair is in a high ponytail, and I feel a little uncomfortable in Marco’s clothes. I hesitate midway down the stairs. Ares seems to notice, and he takes my hand, giving me a look over his shoulder that reassures me that everything will be fine.
As I reach the bottom of the stairs, the first person I see is Luis, sitting on the couch massaging his forehead and eating. Gregory is lying on the large couch, his forearm over his eyes. The brunette I saw last night is sitting next to him, caressing his arm. Marco is standing by the fireplace with his hands on his chest. His eyes meet mine and a crooked smile forms on his lips. The food is on the little table in the middle of the furniture in plastic containers with steam coming out. It must have just arrived.
“I almost left you without any eggs,” Luis comments, eating desperately.
Gregory looks up.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” I wave at him.
“Hello.”
I’m surprised to see how neat and tidy the room is. Remembering last night’s mess, I wonder how it got clean so fast.
After we finish eating, Ares and I walk out of there, saying goodbye to his friends, which relieves me more than I want to admit. I still don’t feel comfortable with them, and, to be honest, I don’t feel completely comfortable with Ares either. Despite being intimate with him, there are still those awkward silences between us.
Ares guides me to his car to take me home. He gets in and I do the same. It’s a beautiful, modern SUV, but it’s nothing compared to the driver. Ares puts on his sunglasses and looks like a model ready for a photo shoot. He’s wearing jeans and a white shirt that he probably borrowed from Marco. On his right hand, a nice black watch adorns his wrist. He starts the car and turns, catching me staring at him like an idiot.
He puts on some music, and I watch the houses go by through the window.
Tell me a story . . .
I narrow my eyes as the memory of being next to Ares and begging him to tell me a story returns. Did that happen last night? I turn to him and watch him drive. How can he look so sexy doing something as simple as that? The way the muscles in his arm contract when he moves the lever and the confidence with which he turns the wheel make him look irresistible. It makes me want to climb on top of him and kiss him.
Ares stops at a gas station for a few minutes, and I stay in the car, waiting. His cell phone is stuck to the side of the steering wheel with the screen exposed. The announcement of a new message catches my attention and I can see that it’s from Samy. I can’t see the content, just her name there, which flashes again with three more messages. My stomach churns slightly, but I push it away as Ares gets back into the car. He gives me a smile, and I forget about Samy for a few seconds.
“Ares . . .”
“Huh?”
“I . . . ” I like you, I want you, I always want to be with you like this. “Uh . . . nothing.”
I just stare at him like a fool as he drives the rest of the way. My obsession . . .
My beautiful Greek god.
TWENTY-NINE
The Question
- ARES -
The car ride is more uncomfortable than I expected, and it catches me off guard. I clear my throat before speaking.
“Do you want a ride home or to your friend’s house?” I ask, my hands tight on the steering wheel as I take a turn. Raquel is sitting in the passenger seat with her hands in her lap. Is she nervous?
“My friend’s.” She gives me the address, and silence falls between us. I feel the need to fill it, so I turn on the radio just as “i hate u, i love u” by gnash begins to play. The lyrics steal a smile from Raquel, and I begin to sing it with the intention of lightening the awkwardness between us.
“Wow, Ares Hidalgo sings,” she teases. “I should record you and post it; I bet it would get a lot of likes.”
I grin openly at her.
“You’d only help my popularity with girls. You want that?”
“Your popularity with girls? Puh-lease! You’re not even that hot.”
“Not even that hot? That’s not what you were saying this morning. Should I repeat the things you were asking me to do to you?”
I glance at her, and she turns red. Well, this isn’t so bad, she looks much more comfortable now.
“That’s not necessary.”
I reach out my hand and rest it on her thigh.
“That was a good way to start the day.”
“Pervert.”
I squeeze her thigh gently.
“But you like this pervert, don’t you?”
“Ugh, I can’t handle your ego,” she says. “It’s too big.”