Page 55 of Rush

No answer. But another knock.

Christ.

I tighten up my towel as I walk over to the door and swing it open. “You didn’t lose my ke—” The words die on my tongue at the sight of Ares standing in front of me.

“Hey,” he says. His eyes do a leisurely rake up and down my towel-clad body, causing goose bumps to break out everywhere on me, before settling back on my face. “I didn’t lose what?”

“Uh, what?” I stutter in shock that he’s here.

“You said, ‘You didn’t lose my…’ something. What was it I must have lost?”

“Uh…” Apparently, this is now nine-tenths of my vocabulary. “Nothing. I, uh, thought you were someone else.”

“Oh.” His eyes dim. “Are you expecting someone?”

“What? No! No, of course not.” My eyes dart to the stairwell.

Why am I lying to him?

Because you’re a flaky drunk and your sponsor just had to come and rescue you from a bar and he is still here because you can’t be trusted to be alone.

Ares’s eyes follow mine over his shoulder to the stairs and then come back to me. He gives me a suspicious look.

Crap.

“How did you get in my building?” I ask, my voice sounding unnaturally high.

“The main door was open. The security in your building sucks balls, Jailbird.”

I suck my lip into my mouth and nod my head in agreement.

Then, there’s an awkward, weird pause between us.

I shift on my feet, holding on to my towel. “So…what are you doing here?” God, that sounded way harsher than I meant it to.

Discomfort flashes through his eyes, and I want to slap myself.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t get your text until I got back to the city. My cell battery had died, so I had to charge it in my truck on the way home. Anyway, I thought I’d swing by and check to make sure you were doing okay. And…I brought you this.” He holds out a takeout soup container that I didn’t even realize he was holding until now. “It’s soup,” he tells me, sounding awkward, which is weird for him because he’s never anything but confident. “Chicken noodle.” He scratches his cheek. “And soup helps when you’re sick, right? So, I brought you…soup.”

“That’s, uh…really…nice…thank you.” I still haven’t taken the soup from him though. I’m just standing here, staring at it, like it’s going to sprout wings and fly away.

“I—” I start, but Luke’s cheerful voice cuts me off, “Hey.”

Ares’s eyes snap around to Luke, and the look on his face…it’s awful.

Confusion quickly morphs to understanding and then turns to anger and disappointment.

It all hits me like a punch to my solar plexus.

I feel winded. And sick.

Luke is, of course, completely oblivious to the fact that I canceled my evening with Ares, telling him I was unwell because I was a complete and utter coward since I didn’t want to tell Ares the truth about my meltdown and that Luke had had to come and save me from a bar that I was sitting in, staring at a glass of wine, like the alcoholic I am.

Now, Ares is here, being sweet and bringing me soup and being a really good friend, and Luke is here with Chinese food. And Ares is going to think that I blew him off for Luke and lied to him about it.

Which I did.

But, if I tell him the truth…why Luke is here…Ares will be disgusted with me. He’ll remember that I’m everything that he despises, and he won’t want to be my friend anymore.