Apollo (Contemporary Mythos Book 2)
Apollo: Chapter 5

“Where do you want to sit?” Kate asked.

We stood in line, handing off our duffle bags to the driver to store in the bus’s underbelly.

“Not in the back. I’ve got reading to catch up on.” I waved my e-reader.

She fished in her pocket, tripping up the stairs once we reached them. “Almost forgot. You asked me to make you a new playlist. Here.” She held her phone up, waiting for me.

I pressed my phone to the back of hers, and within seconds, the playlist appeared. “Thanks. You didn’t put any K-pop on it, did you?”

We shimmied through the aisle, finding a suitable spot in the middle.

“Have I ever steered you wrong?” She asked, claiming the window seat.

“No.”

“Then, just listen to it and trust me.”

I worked my thumb across the screen, looking at the first few songs.

She reached over and yanked the phone from my hand. “And don’t look at it. You’ll spoil the spontaneity.”

I flopped into my seat, pulling my earbuds from the front pocket of my purse. Spotting Jamie, I made quick work of shoving them in my ears.

When she passed, she thinned her lips, pausing by me.

At first, I pretended I couldn’t see her, flipping through random screens on my phone.

“Aren’t you sad you’re missing out on dancing with Ace?” She asked, tapping her fingers on the seat in front of me.

I shook my head, pointing at the earbuds as if music played.

She rolled her eyes and brushed past me.

That’s right. Move along, Cruella.

Kate balled up her hoodie and shoved it between her face and the window. In five minutes, she’d be snoring. I pressed play on her playlist, flipping the case of my e-reader open.

What to read, what to read.

The romance novel The Intimidation Game was my newest download. It was an instant nab the moment I saw it took place in Glasgow, Scotland. Lordy, I had such a weak spot for a man with that accent. Yes. The perfect distraction to forget all about a particular rock star. I nestled into my chair and propped the e-reader against the seatback in front of me.

A heavy guitar riff flowed into my ears as I began to read. The drums kicked in, and I tapped my foot.

“I was born of the sun. Let its warmth wash over you,” the song said.

My eyes shot up.

Apollo’s Suns. She put freaking Apollo’s Suns on my playlist.

I looked over at Kate, ready to give her a piece of my mind. She was fast asleep with her mouth wide open. Drool soaked into the yellow fabric of her sweatshirt.

She’d no doubt quiz me on my opinion of her playlist. Maybe she snuck this one song in as a joke.

Fine. One song.

I tried to focus on reading and let the music fade into the background like white noise. There was something about Ace’s voice I couldn’t ignore—masculine and melodic. Suitable for rock in every way. But he also sang like there was a hidden message. He was luring you, coaxing you into his mysterious journey to discover it.

The next song cued up, and I let out a haggard breath. Kate was still fast asleep. I didn’t plan to mention my reaction to the music. Not to her. Not to anyone. Especially not him.

It took several hours before we arrived in Toronto. She’d snuck not only one Apollo’s Suns song, but three. When any of them played, I couldn’t concentrate on what I was reading. The songs demanded attention. I couldn’t even bring myself to press the skip button. So. Strange. The driver took us to our hotel, and everyone split up to explore Toronto after dropping off our bags. Kate and I wandered for twenty minutes, trying to find a suitable bar to park our butts.

A blinking neon red sign shooting an arrow from a bow called to me like a siren in the distance. The animated arrow lodged into a heart on the opposite side.

The Arrow.

I tugged on Kate’s sleeve. “What about that one?”

“The Arrow. Hm. Why not?”

Inside didn’t look much different from any other bar. There was a dark mahogany bar top, tables scattered through the main space, and a stage in the corner for live performances. Hockey insignia hung from the walls—sticks, jerseys, helmets.

“Get a load of the bartender, Laur.” Kate grabbed my chin, turning my face.

He flipped a bottle over his shoulder, catching it behind him as his other hand worked a shaker. It was like watching Tom Cruise in the movie Cocktail. He had short dark brown hair with a front wavy piece hanging over his forehead like Superman. A green and blue plaid long-sleeve shirt rolled up to his elbows revealed muscular forearms.

“What’s a drink that requires a lot of shaking?” Kate asked, biting her lip.

“A mixed drink. Come on. First rounds on me.”

We slid onto separate stools on one end of the bar. Several men occupied the rest of the seats with their hands curled around beer bottles, eyes fixated on the televisions. One TV played a Toronto versus Winnipeg hockey game while the other displayed an MMA match between a fighter named Mars and the other, Mick Liddell, the current heavyweight champ. A group of women huddled on the other end, leaning forward, so their shirts gave the bartender a bird’s eye view of their cleavage. He placed four martini glasses down in front of them and expertly poured a pink liquid into each. After he put individual swirls of orange peel, he slid the glasses toward them. The women clapped and stretched their faces into widened smiles. He bowed before turning on his heel and coming over to us.

“Hello, ladies. What can I whip up for you?” He asked, placing two cocktail napkins. He had a strong jawline with a light beard and a dimpled chin. The kind if you squeezed it together, it’d look like a tiny butt. His eyes were cobalt blue, and his smile was swoon-worthy.

Kate wiggled in her seat. “Do you have a suggestion?” She rested her elbow on the bar top, placing her chin in her hand.

Grinning, the bartender pressed his forearms into the mahogany. “You look like the Sex on the Beach type.”

Oh, brother.

“I don’t even know what’s in that, but I’ll take it.” Kate tossed her black locks over her shoulder.

“And for you?” He asked me.

“Just a bottle of Molson, please.”

He chuckled. “An American ordering a Molson in Canada, eh? You’ll fit right in.” He drummed his fingers on the bar before turning away to make Kate’s drink.

“A beer? You couldn’t be more creative so we could watch the show?” Kate asked, picking off pieces of her napkin.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t do fruity drinks anymore, remember? Just looking at one makes my teeth ache.”

She shrugged, aiming her gaze on the bartender. “At least we’ve got mine to watch.”

He slammed a shaker down and grabbed two bottles of alcohol. He juggled them, flipping one bottle from behind him after spinning it horizontally in his palm. He turned them upside down, holding both in one hand, pouring liquid into the shaker.

“So, what’d you think of my playlist?” Kate asked, bouncing on her stool.

The Apollo’s Suns songs replayed in my brain. “You think you’re so clever sneaking those in there, don’t you?”

The bartender grabbed two jugs of different juices and poured them into the shaker, making them swirl together mid-air.

“Tell me the truth. Did you like the music? Even a little bit?” Kate talked to me but didn’t dare to look away from the bartender.

He grabbed a handful of maraschino cherries, popped one in his mouth, and tossed the other two in the drink. He slipped an orange slice onto the rim of the glass before bringing it over to Kate.

“Hope this meets your standards.” The bartender winked and plopped a red straw into it.

Kate ran a finger over her collarbone. “Oh, it has. It really has.” She hadn’t sipped it yet and talked more to him than the drink itself.

He popped open the fridge, grabbing a beer bottle and, in one swift motion, pried the cap off before sliding it to me across the bar. I shot my hand out to catch it, the swirly vapor from a freshly opened bottle wafting in the air.

“Opening a tab?” The tender asked.

Kate whipped out her card before I had a chance to protest.

He took it with a grin. “Name?”

“Katherine. Er—Kate.”

“Kate, I’ll hold onto your card until you tell me to stop. Deal?” His eyes sparkled.

She nodded, slipping the straw in her drink between her lips.

“When you ladies are ready for another drink, just holler. Name’s Eric.” He gave me one final look over before tending to the other patrons.

Kate slurped her drink. “This is so good. And by the way, don’t think I don’t remember you not answering my question.”

“Fine. The music is—okay.” I tilted my head back, finishing half of my bottle in two swigs.

“I told you to tell me the truth. You’re lying. I can tell because you’re masking it with that bottle.” She cocked an eyebrow as she chewed on her straw.

I sighed. Was I really about to admit this?

“It was good. I never bothered to listen to the lyrics before. It was almost—intoxicating. I’m not sure how to describe it.”

“And this is Apollo’s Suns we’re talking about?”

I shifted my eyes. “Isn’t that what you were asking me?”

“Okay. Just making sure.” She popped her eyes over my shoulder.

“Why?” I glared.

“Because Ace is standing behind you.”

My eyes widened. Heat pooled over my neck, and I slowly turned in my stool. Ace leaned on the bar with one elbow, grinning like a fool. He wore a black jacket with a white tank top underneath. A gold chain with a sun charm hung around his neck.

“Hi.” He wiggled his fingers in a wave. The rings on his fingers caught the red neon glint from surrounding Arrow signs.

I clutched my bottle with both hands. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” He leaned closer, strands of his bright blonde hair falling over his gaze. “Intoxicating, huh?”

My throat constricted. Ace’s arrogance wasn’t as profound when he sang, but he quickly reminded me how obvious it was when he spoke. I opened my mouth to snap back with a witty retort.

“Cousin?” Eric, the bartender, said.

Ace rolled his eyes. “All the bars in Toronto and you girls had to pick this one?”

“It had the cutest sign,” Kate plucked the orange slice from her glass.

“How’s it hanging Canuck? Still rocking the plaid, I see.” Ace interlaced his fingers on the bar top.

Eric folded his arms with a smirk. “And your jeans still have more holes in them than Swiss cheese. Nothing’s changed.”

“You two are related?” I motioned between them.

“Cousins. You know Ace?” Eric cocked an eyebrow.

I snorted. “Barely. We’re working together. Kate and I are ballet dancers.”

Ace held his head in his hand.

Eric leaned over the bar with wild eyes. “Ballet?”

“Please. What you wouldn’t give to be surrounded by women in nothing but leotards and tights for weeks on end.” Ace twirled the ring on his right index finger, glaring at Eric.

Kate scooted forward. “Do you two have a beef with each other or something? I could cut the tension in the air with a chainsaw.”

“Let’s just say Ace is still sour about how much better at archery I am than him,” Eric said, a glint in his eye.

“Archery?” I cocked an eyebrow, looking at Ace.

For the first time, he didn’t look back at me. He was too busy twirling his ring and glaring daggers into Eric’s eyeballs.

“This drink has gone straight to my bladder. I’m going to go to the little girl’s room really quick. Laurel, you going to be okay by yourself?” Kate asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I patted her hand, not looking at her.

Eric pointed at me, a sparkle in his eyes. “Her name is Laurel?”

The corners of Ace’s jaw popped, and he slipped the ring off, balling his hand into a fist around it.

“What’s wrong with the name Laurel?” I asked.

“Nothing. Eric has a certain fascination for the trees you’re named after.” Ace tapped his finger against the bar.

Eric pressed a hand to his chest. “Me?”

“Actually—” I waved my hand between the two arguing men, demanding their attention. “I was named after the Laurel from Laurel and Hardy.”

Ace finally looked at me before bursting into laughter.

Eric shook his head. “Don’t make a mess in my bar, Ace. I’ve got eyes in the back of my head.” He pointed at his eyes and then at Ace before turning back to his customers.

Ace slipped the ring back on and dragged a hand through his hair, pausing at the back of his head.

“Well, this isn’t awkward at all. You two sounded like a couple of twelve-year-olds.” I finished my beer.

“Funny, I thought the same thing about you and Jamie.”

I sucked on my tongue, knowing he was partially right. “That’s different.”

He stood on the rung of a stool, reaching over the bar to pop open the cooler and grab a beer.

Eric pursed his lips together from across the way.

“She said she’d put it on her tab.” Ace jutted his thumb at me.

“No, I—”

“I’ll pay you back. With interest.” He winked and used one of his many rings to pry the cap from the bottle.

I slid my empty bottle to the edge of the bar. “You’ll pay me back now.”

He caught my hand in his, and I felt a brush of paper against my palm. He gave a lopsided grin, sipping from his beer. Eyeing him suspiciously, I turned my hand over to find a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill.

“Ace, this is a hundred dollars. I can’t accept this.” I held it out to him.

Not to mention what sort of magic trick he did to get it in my hand in the first place.

“I insist. Call it an act of good faith.” He peered at me with those cerulean eyes, and I had a hard time deciding whether it was a gesture or baiting me.

I folded the bill and slipped it into my purse. “Fine. I can take your money. Not like you lack it.”

“About this intoxicating music you spoke of,” he whispered, shifting closer.

I stared at the empty beer. Eric was flipping bottles in front of a group of seven women. It’d be minutes before I had another drink to use as a shield.

“I was on a bus for three hours. Anything would’ve been intoxicating at that point.” My mouth formed a tiny “o” shape. “Why are you here, anyway? I didn’t see you on the bus.”

He laughed, holding the neck of the bottle with two fingers. “Me? On a coach bus? That’s cute. I can simply—” He flicked his wrist into the air. “Jet where I please.”

I rubbed my arms, glancing at the bathrooms.

Where the hell was Kate?

“Let the beams caress you like a lover. Shade the memories of her,” Ace sang into my ear, his lips so close his breath moistened my ear.

Goosebumps threatened my skin. I whipped my head in his direction with a glare, knowing exactly what he was doing. It wouldn’t work.

I leaned in and sang lyrics to Metallica’s Master of Puppets.

He chuckled, grazing a knuckle across his lips. “You’re a little spitfire, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“I’m back. I’m back. My mom, of all people, called me. She has the worst timing of anyone I know,” Kate stammered, sliding back onto her stool.

Eric swooped my empty bottle and replaced it with a full one, gracing me with a charming wink.

“Oh. My. God. Ace!” A woman shrilled from behind us.

Ace smiled and turned on his stool, opening his arms like he was going to hug her.

“Can I take a selfie with you?” She asked, holding her phone in trembling hands.

Ace beckoned her toward him. “Of course. Get your beautiful butt over here.”

The woman shrieked and hopped over, holding the phone up. It shook violently from her excited tremors. Ace took the phone, holding his arm out. Right before he snapped the picture, he planted a kiss on her cheek. The color drained from her face.

You’d think a god or something just kissed her.

“Th-thank you so much! My friends are going to freak. I can’t wait to see you in concert.” She clutched her phone to her chest.

Ace ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll look for you in the audience.”

She gave a girly laugh and flittered away.

“See, that’s how you’re supposed to act with a rock star.” Kate sat with perfect posture.

I slouched in my stool, regardless of my years of ballet training. “They’re human beings like the rest of us.”

Ace snickered, sipping from his beer.

I tossed him a glare, but a pair of hands slapping onto the bar top snapped my attention away.

“I’ll take two zombies and keep them coming until I am one,” a red-haired woman said, a slur in her tone. She was clearly already sauced. Mascara streaked her cheeks, and I could see her bloodshot eyes from here.

Eric eyed her, searching her face. “Rough day?” He proceeded to make her drinks.

“Here he goes,” Ace muttered, sliding from his stool. He moved over to a table of women who’d been pointing at him and whispering.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The woman made grabby hand gestures in the air when he set the drinks in front of her.

“Well, whoever he is—didn’t deserve you.” Eric wiped an imaginary stain on the bar top.

Kate bumped her shoulder against me. “Kudos to picking this place. It has the most interesting people.”

Interesting or crazy. There was a fine line.

The red-head downed both drinks and stumbled off her chair, rubbing her hands over her face. “Thank you,” she said, making her way for the door.

Eric cocked an eyebrow and popped open the register, grabbing a credit card and chasing after her. “Miss! You forgot your card.”

She whirled around, bumping her back into the door. Once Eric handed her the card, she slapped a hand over her forehead. He patted her shoulder and led her outside. I leaned forward like it’d help me hear the conversation. All I could see were moving lips and hand gestures. She started to walk one direction, but he turned her in the other, pointing. As she walked, he backpedaled, and the woman ran headlong into a man with glasses and a bowtie. They both smiled. Eric dusted off his hands as he made his way back inside.

Ace gave a slow clap, rolling his eyes. “Still playing matchmaker?”

“All part of the job.” Eric’s chest puffed out.

Kate raised her brow. “As a bartender?”

“Right?” I concurred.

“Laurel,” Ace beckoned.

He sat amidst the female fans, signing napkins, but played his steely gaze on me.

I shifted my eyes. “Yeah?”

“You staying at the Grove?” He scribbled another signature, sliding it to the brunette at his right.

“Why would I tell you where I’m staying?”

He pulled the hem of his shirt, rising from his seat, despite the harem’s whines of protest. “That’s a yes, then. I’m sure I’ll bump into you tonight.”

I looked at Kate, who looked at Ace with the same dreamy eyes she had for Chris Hemsworth. She would be of no help.

“How would you know?” I asked.

He cracked his knuckles and puckered his lips. “Call it a hunch.” He made his way for the exit, giving Eric a salute before breezing through the door.

Ace was like the eye of the storm in a hurricane. It gave you a false sense of security before completely wrecking your entire world.

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