Page 38 of Gilded Gods

“Are you doing okay in there?” Layla asks from the other side of the door.

Define okay.

“Yes,” I lie.

Atlas steps back as if the bubble surrounding us has burst into a million pieces. Our small moment in time is over. I can already see him retreating into his head.

“Perfect.” I can hear the smile on Layla’s perky face behind the closed door. “I’ll be out front helping a customer if you need me.”

The second Layla disappears, Atlas leaves the room as if nothing happened.

ChapterTwenty-One

OPHELIA

I’m becominggood at pretending. When we eat breakfast as a family, I smile and stuff my face with food. Ares passes me the syrup. Apollo tells me to eat more. And Atlas draws me.

I can’t see his sketchbook, but I know that’s what he’s doing. He looks up, his eyes on me for a second before he’s back to sketching.

We haven’t discussed how he kissed me in the dressing room. Or the sweet things he said to me. Ares has been equally distant. Since the night Ares climbed into my bed, he hasn’t returned. None of them have been around much, busy with their own lives.

It’s nice.

Like old times.

I’m getting more peace and don’t feel like I always have to keep my guard up. So when Athena asks me to help her choose flowers for the wedding, I smile and say yes.

Faking is easier than I thought. Now I understand why so many women at The O Club can do it each night. My girls make our members believe they want their hands all over their skin. Each moan is a performance. They must shut out their thoughts as I do and let their body take over.

Dad and Athena leave for a late dinner with friends. The same friends who once knew them as separate entities. It must be weird for them, too.

I open the fridge and take out a carton of strawberries. A little snack to keep me going before I leave for the club.

Leaning against the counter, I bite into the berry and chuck the top into the trash. I eat a few more and put the carton back into the refrigerator. When I turn around, Ares stands in the entryway.

I stare.

Blink.

Lick my lips.

“What’s on your mind, little dragon?”

Ares walks into the kitchen, dressed in black-and-gold boxing trunks that hang low on his narrow hips. He’s shirtless, his ripped body covered in black ink, those big muscles flexing as he grips the towel over his shoulder.

I think I might be drooling, so I swipe my finger across my lip and turn away from him. “Apollo isn’t home yet, and we have to leave for Olympus in ten minutes.”

After striking a deal with my father, I agreed to behave. That means bringing Apollo to the club with me and showing him the ropes. He’s only supposed to get involved with the finances. I could care less since Uncle Alexander always handled that side of the business.

“Apollo just called,” Atlas says as he enters the room wearing dark blue jeans with graffiti on them and a fitted white shirt that looks like something he designed. “He’s on his way home. Should be here any minute.”

Home.

It still sounds weird to hear them call my house their home. But that’s the truth. In two weeks, they will be my stepbrothers. And we’ll be one big happy family.

“Are you fighting tonight?” I ask Ares since we have barely spoken all week.

“Yep.” He closes the distance between us, grabs my shirt, and pulls me to him. “Do I get a kiss for good luck?”

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