Page 98 of Fast

“There is something between me and Chance. We’re figuring it out as we go.” I admit. “And I’m also dating Lev. They expect me to choose between them eventually, and I don’t know if I can.”

The shock on Ares’s face would be funny if it didn’t come with a hefty dose of anger.

“You admit it? I don’t know what kind of fucked up thing you have going on with them, princess,” Ares bites out. “But I think you don’t need me to complicate things even more.”

On a rational level, I guess he’s right. But then why is it that I feel like complicating things with Ares is exactly what I need?

“Fine.” My jaw is ticking just as much as my stepbrother’s. “Then let’s be friends. You said that’s what you want, right?”

He antagonizes me. “Right. Let’s watch the fucking movie, then.”

We settle back in our seats, our eyes fixed on the screen.

The movie is almost over, and I get more pissed off with every passing second.

If I expected Ares to fight for me, I guess I was sorely mistaken. There’s a gaping hole in my heart at the thought that we’re going to befriends. Whatever that means.

I need to drown my sorrows in more cookies. I hope the Zeta sisters believe in chocolate during sleepovers, because that’s the only thing that’s going to make me feel better.

“Ouch.”

Ares and I both moved at the same time to grab the Tupperware with the cookies, and somehow, I end up elbowing him in the ribs.

“I’m sorry,” I say honestly. “I didn’t mean to.”

When he rubs his palm against the spot I just hit with my elbow he makes a rustling noise.

“You ok?” I ask. “Are you hurt?”

Ares winces. His discomfort is more than obvious. “It’s not your fault. I was already a little sore. It’s my birthday next week, and I’m getting a tattoo. I got most of the main details done yesterday morning and it’s still a little sore. I guess I should put some of the antiseptic cream they gave me at the parlor before I head out to work.”

“Can I see it?”

The words tumble out before I even realize it.

He lifts his t-shirt. “Help me with the tape?”

I do as I’m told, my fingers brushing over Ares’s taut skin as I uncover the tattoo that covers part of his chest and ribs.

The skin is a little red, it’s to be expected. It’s the drawing of a man carrying a big ball on his shoulders. I lean to take a better look, and I realize that the ball is actually a globe. “Is this Atlas?” I ask without even thinking, bracing myself for his reaction.

I’ve seen Scott and Chance tense up and shut down whenever Ares’s late twin is mentioned.

An apology is ready on the tip of my tongue, but Ares exhales, some tension easing from his shoulders.

“It is. As you can imagine, birthdays have changed for me since he’s been gone. The past two years, I’ve found a bar that isn’t too strict on checking on ID, and drunk until I didn’t evenremember my own name. Ironically, this year I turn twenty-one, so I could drink legally. But I’m a cop now, and I would have to go where no one knows me, or it would be embarrassing.”

I consider his words. “Yeah, especially since the sheriff is your next-door neighbor.”

Ares nods. “Yeah. And to be honest, drinking myself into a stupor doesn’t really help. It numbs the pain just for a second, but if there’s a thing I learned about pain, is that pain is patient. It will wait for you for as long as it takes, and then it’ll hit you twice as hard.”

He grabs a tube of antiseptic cream. “So I thought that despite being gone, Atlas is always going to be a part of me. What’s better than a tattoo to make something permanent?”

I should know about that, when I was sixteen, I was so stupid to get Cal’s name tattooed on my lower back. The small blessing is that I can’t really see it.

“I went to the tattoo parlor with the intention of just getting his name tattooed on my chest,” Ares continues. “But then I got talking with the tattoo artist, and she came up with the idea of drawing a picture of Atlas from the Ancient Greek myth.”

Now I understand. “Yeah, he was condemned to carry the heavens on his shoulders, right?”

---