Sloane

 

Ares Mallick took me home.

Consider that one a win for the record books.

Another was that we managed to not kill each other on the way. We didn’t even argue. It was actually a nice quiet drive. Well, quiet outside of the blaring rock music that Ares blasted throughout his Hummer. Arm hanging out the window, he blasted that shit despite it being the middle of the night, and I didn’t complain because that was what I would have played.

It was kind of crazy how we had so much in common. I seemed to discover more and more, as we spent time together. A big commonality was our art, and it may be because we had so much in common, we fought so much. We were like two alphas constantly knocking heads. He was obviously more aggressive, but I didn’t stand down from him.

That was probably a big reason I pissed him off so much. I didn’t stand down like the rest of his sheep at school, and call me crazy, but it seemed he didn’t hate me as much either. Besides helping me out tonight, I think he played his music so loud because he witnessed me enjoying it. He caught me bobbing my head to the beat from the radio more than once.

“You need anything else before I cut out?” he asked, eyeing my living room. He mentioned some shit about not letting me walk into a dark house, which fucking floored me. He did something nice, normal even. He was surprising me just like someone else I’d rather forget.

Dorian himself had impressed me more than once in the past. He’d been kind before. He was kind until he wasn’t, a constant reminder of what Legacy was, and I couldn’t soon forget. Ares may have my back now, but I was still aware he needed me for that project. We were far from finishing it.

I kept that thought in the back of my mind as I left Ares to deposit my bag in the hall closest. I returned to find Ares in the kitchen, actually studying the area like he was looking for something or someone. I chuckled, and he turned around.

“We have home security,” I said. He saw me turn it off. “No one’s getting in here. Callum made sure of that.”

I’d been able to juice up my phone on the way here since Ares had a charger in his car, and Callum had left me a couple messages. He mentioned basically the same thing Ares had told me at the hospital, so I hadn’t bothered calling him back. It was late, so I left him a text I’d call him in the morning.

“Did he now?” Ares’s gaze bored over the room. He studied the light fixtures and cabinets before finding my eyes. “Any reason why the dude left you hanging tonight?” He shrugged. “He’s supposed to be your guardian, right? Where was he and why did I have to tell you what was going on with your brother?”

I frowned. “He didn’t leave me hanging.”

“He did.” Ares took a step, and I didn’t get the attitude change. “And where does he go anyway? He just leaves you guys here? All alone and shit.”

“Because he’s not our dad,” I stated, not that I had to explain it to him. I braced my arms. “And he didn’t leave me hanging. He tried to call me, but my phone died.”

“Hmm,” Ares grunted, like an actual grunt. He stood tall. “Well, where is he? Is he coming?”

His phone message said he’d try. I didn’t know where he was right now, but I assumed on business. He always was when he wasn’t here.

But again, I didn’t need to tell him that. I wet my lips. “You know what? Thanks for tonight. Thanks for taking me home, but I’m probably good at this point.”

That was my nice way of saying he needed to go home, and there went our record for not arguing. He just couldn’t help but be himself.

I left him standing in the middle of the kitchen, opening the cabinets for some hard liquor. I needed a shot, and he laughed behind me.

“You’re getting tanked this late?”

“Doesn’t hurt the situation.” Things were already fucked. I pulled out the bourbon.

“Going straight for the hard stuff, I see.”

I turned to find him smirking.

He leaned back against the counter. “Wouldn’t have taken you for a bourbon drinker, little. Maybe one of those fuzzy pink drinks.” His eyebrow arched. “Those ones with the sugar crystals on the top.”

I flipped him off, and that got me another smirk. It pissed me off enough that I grabbed two glasses instead of the one. The first I poured my shot, and the second I decided to fill with some milk from the fridge.

I got it nice and high, Ares watching me the whole time. His lips thinned. “What are you doing?”

“Pouring a glass for the big boy,” I said, then pushed it to him. “How’s that for your fuzzy pink drinks?”

I’d give it to Ares. He took it and actually lifted his glass to me. “Salut.”

I said it back, completely aware I didn’t know what the word meant. I tossed back my shot the same time he drank his milk.

And the fucker managed to make a competition out of it.

He chugged back his milk with greedy gulps, taking it down just as easily and effortlessly as I did with my small shot. I growled, starting to fill my glass again.

“Okay, little. Slow down.” He raised a hand. “This isn’t a competition.”

I didn’t listen, taking another shot. The burn triggered a coughing fit, and Ares pushed off the counter.

“That’s enough,” he said. He slid the whiskey down the counter. “Why the fuck are you always at me?”

My head shot back. “I think that’s the other way around.” He’d been attacking me from day one, attacking me now. “You come in here jumping down my throat when I’m going through all this shit. My brother could be fucking dying right now, and here I am with you when all I want… All I want…”

His lips parted. “What?”

I didn’t know what. I just knew I was scared, and I felt so alone. I’d felt it for so long, and the only time I had a shred of not feeling that way it’d been taken away. Trampled all over.

And by his fucking friend.

I didn’t want to admit that now, that what I felt not long ago might have been real. Especially in front of Ares. He wouldn’t care. Instead, I swallowed, Ares looking at me from across the kitchen.

He flicked at his curls. “I wasn’t trying to jump down your throat.”

Then what was he trying to do?

His gaze found the floor. He cursed. “Got an actual shot glass in this bitch?” he asked, my brow jumping. His jaw shifted. “I don’t drink shots out of fucking milk glasses.”

He pulled the bourbon over, completely serious. I eyed him. “I’m not driving your ass home.”

“I’ll call a ride share. Just get the fucking glass.”

I did, giving him what he asked for. He downed that shit like it was nothing before taking another. He chuckled. “You actually have good taste in bourbon, little.”

A compliment, and from this guy. I smiled. “Some stuff I brought down from Chi-Town.” I’d gotten it with my fake ID.

Ares nodded. “It’s good,” he said, but he didn’t take another glass. He studied the room. “Got any snacks or are you going to continue being a piss-poor hostess?”

He said this, but he smiled, and for some reason, I didn’t immediately throw an insult at him. I chuckled. “What do you like to eat?”

As it turned out, everything, and I ended up defrosting what felt like half the freezer. Bru kept a lot of garbage around the house, frozen cheese sticks and wings. I ended up being pretty hungry too, so I made it all, and Ares didn’t protest. I really didn’t know why I was entertaining his presence here. When we’d gotten here, I’d wanted him out of my house.

“Pick your poison.” I tossed him the remote from the living room. We’d assembled all the garbage food out there with our booze, and seeing Ares in my brother’s easy chair was frickin’ hilarious. Bru may be a large boy but he wasn’t nearly as tall as Ares. With his legs stretched out, my brother’s teammate basically had his long legs breaching the opposite side beneath the coffee table.

Ares barked a laugh, a bowl of cheese puffs in his lap. “You’re giving me a lot of trust, little.”

“Just pick something, Wolf,” I tossed. I popped a piece of popcorn chicken in my mouth. “And it better be good.”

I angled back to see him actually smiling from my brother’s chair. He said that name was on loan, but I was only forty percent sure I’d get away with calling him that.

“I got something for you,” he said, and when he grinned, it appeared I did get away with what I said. He proceeded to change the channel to The Office, and I was surprised. That was like my favorite television show.

“You like The Office?” I asked, taking a blanket from behind the couch. I put it over my legs while I ate chicken.

Ares grabbed a wing off our island of junk. We’d arranged it all out on the coffee table for easy access. He lifted a shoulder. “It’s cool. Jim fucking kills me.”

“And Dwight.”

“Yeah.” He faced me. “Wanna binge-watch? Now that I’m up, I don’t think I’m going to sleep anytime soon.”

I probably wouldn’t either. Not with everything that just happened.

I could use a laugh or two. “Only if you don’t fucking talk. I hate when people talk while I’m watching stuff.”

He lifted a hand, then proceeded to turn up the television. This was not how I’d thought the evening would go, and though Ares’s laughter boomed over the set almost right away at the show, his distraction didn’t annoy me. If anything, his laughter made me laugh too.

We laughed together which should be weird, but as we watched, it wasn’t. Actually, watching TV with him felt a lot like painting with him. It felt, I don’t know, easy.

I really didn’t think I’d sleep that night, but my lids definitely started feeling heavy during the show. I fought sleep for as long as I could, but I must have drifted off sometime between episodes. I was totally in and out of sleep because, at one point, I thought I felt a set of hands tugging my blanket up when it slid.

“Night, P,” I heard a voice say, but that couldn’t have been true. My name didn’t begin with a P.

I must have been dreaming.

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