Through My Window (Hidalgos #1)(80)

“I like making you blush. You look cute,” he says, and I blush even more.

“I’m still amazed at how changeable you are.”

“Changeable?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“And may I ask what I have done today to make you call me that?”

I list them with my fingers: “Last night: romantic. This morning: sexual, tempting. Now: sweet.”

He laughs and sits on the bed to put on his shoes.

“I see your point, but it’s your fault,” he says. “You make me feel too many things at once. So, I react differently every time, you make me this way.”

I raise an eyebrow, pointing at myself.

“As usual, blaming me.” He finishes with his shoes and gets up.

“Do you have plans today?”

“Let me check my schedule. For real, I’m a very busy girl.” More like a not-grounded-anymore girl, but he doesn’t need to know that. I glance at the calendar on the wall to confirm that my prison days have come to an end. He walks toward me, and I back away.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

“Yes.” He slips his arm around my back and pulls me into his body, his scent enveloping me.

“I’m not going to take no for an answer. If you say no, I’ll seduce you right here, and we’ll end up there.” He points to the bed.

“You’re so arrogant. You trust your seduction skills way too much.”

“No, I just know that you want me as much as I want you.”

I wet my lips. “Whatever. Let me go, I have no plans.”

Satisfied with my answer, he releases me.

“I’ll pick you up in the evening.” He kisses me on the forehead and turns away.

I let out a big sigh, watching him leave through my window.


A date with Ares . . .

Romantic dinner, movies, and a good-bye kiss.

I think it’s normal to expect that from a first date. That’s how they always are on TV and what Dani, my first dating source, has told me. So I’m surprised when Ares stops his car in the hospital parking lot. I watch him take off his seat belt, and I do the same.

The hospital?

My first date will be in a hospital? How romantic, Greek God.

I sit still, watching as Ares hesitates over what to say. He’s wearing a black shirt. I love the way he looks in black, or white, or really any color. He always looks so handsome without even trying. Ares licks his lips before turning his blue gaze on me.

“I . . . had reservations at a nice restaurant, movie tickets, and a delicious ice cream place in mind,” he says, pausing for my reply. I say nothing, so he continues. “But when I left the house, I got a call: my grandfather woke up. I didn’t want to keep you waiting or cancel the date. I didn’t want to screw up again, so I brought you here with me. I know it’s not perfect, and it’s terribly unromantic, but—”

I place my finger on his lips.

“Shut up.” I give him an honest smile. “Nothing has ever been conventional between us, so this is perfect.” His eyes soften, charged with emotion.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Completely.”

I’m not lying, this really is perfect for us, and, to be honest, the typical date wasn’t what I expected of him. I expected more from him, I wanted more, and I got it. Ares is letting me in. He’s showing me this side of him, and the fact that he wants me with him at this moment means a lot to me.

The walk to the hospital entrance is silent, but not uncomfortable. I can feel the fear and anticipation emanating from Ares. He puts his hands into the pockets of his pants, pulls them out, runs them through his hair, and puts them back in. I can’t imagine what he must be feeling. When he takes his hands out again, I take one, and he looks at me.

“Everything will be fine,” I say.

Holding hands, we enter the white hospital world. The lighting is so bright that you can see every detail of the walls and floor. Nurses and doctors in white coats pass from one side of the hall to the other. Some carry coffees, while others carry folders. Even though my mom is a nurse, my visits to the hospital have been few because she didn’t like to expose me to this place, or that was the reason she always gave me. I glance at my hand intertwined with Ares’s and a warm sensation floods through me. After giving his name to some kind of doorman in the elevator, we go up.

The fourth floor is silent, desolate. I only see a few nurses in a stall that we pass as we continue to a long corridor where the lighting is no longer so bright. I find it curious that the intensive care ward doesn’t have the vibrant light of the floor below, as if the softer lighting suits the place. I’m sure this floor has witnessed a lot of sadness, good-byes, and grief.

At the end of the corridor there are three people, and as we get closer, I can see who they are: Artemis, Apolo, and Mr. Hidalgo, Ares’s father. My nerves jitter as I’m reminded that this is something very intimate for his family. What if I make them uncomfortable with my presence?

Mr. Hidalgo is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, and his head down. Artemis is sitting in a metal chair, leaning back in it, his tie undone, and the first buttons of his shirt open. His usual perfectly coiffed hair is in disarray, and I notice he has a bandage around the knuckles of his right hand. Apolo is sitting on the ground, his elbows on his knees, holding his head with both hands. He has a fresh bruise on his left cheek. Did he get into a fight?