Completely opposite to Dante’s muscle car, I can barely feel or hear the engine as the vehicle glides smoothly toward the entrance. Movement at Mike’s trailer catches my eye. He is standing on his small front porch, watching us leave. I know he can’t see into the car, the windows are tinted too dark, but he’s clear as day. I see him give a slight shake of his head when we hit the blacktop road.
I tighten my arms over my backpack. I want to run my fingers over the screen and touch all the little buttons to see what they do, but I refrain. I do, however, bush my knuckles over the supple leather of my seat.
Ares is relaxed, his left hand at the top of the steering wheel and right elbow cradled on the divider between us, fingers grazing the wood beneath. He glances at me a few times, his eyes trailing over me briefly.
As the sign for the diner comes into view my stomach hollows. It seems like it’s been ages since I was here, while in truth it’s only been two days. But so much has happened in those two days. The car dies seconds after Ares turns the dial to the P, the doors unlocking automatically. “Thank you for the ride,” I rush out, reaching for the handle at the same time. Ares stops me with his palm cupping my shoulder; I freeze, one leg already dangling outside, my body angled away from him.
When he doesn’t say anything right away I peer over my shoulder, waiting for him to release me. Warmth starts to pool under his palm, and a calmness slides over me. He’s doing something to me that affects my emotions. It’s not the first time, but I’m beginning to recognize when he’s doing it. The blackness in his eyes expands cover his iris, but isn’t leeching into the whites. I shrug his palm free and narrow my eyes at him. The foreign feeling of warmth fades, but the calmness lingers, sapping the anger I want to have toward him from manipulating my feelings. “You need to stop doing that to me.” Ares’s eyes widen, the color returning to what I guess is his norm.
“It’s nothing I have control over,” he confesses, his voice low, like he hates to even admit it to himself.
“Well it’s not right, you can’t choose how I feel.” I slide out of the car, slamming the door behind me, and it’s completely unsatisfying. Instead of the harsh sound I expected, I get a low thud like the car itself denied me. Stupid fancy ass car.
The second door closing—a little gentler than mine—alerts me that Ares is following. I pick up my pace, so I’m almost jogging. He still makes it to the door before me, holding it open so I can enter. I push past the second door myself, rushing to the back where I usually put my bag. I keep my head down, I don’t want to know who’s here, and has seen us arrive together.
I tie an apron over my jeans and wash my hands in the big tub. My hair is mostly dry, hanging down my back, and I’m so discombobulated I’m lucky my pants aren’t on backwards. I tuck a few loose strands behind my ear, hoping it isn’t too much of a frizzy mess. One deep breath later, I nod my head, ready for whatever is coming my way.
As I exit the back I’m greeted with the sight of Maggie and Ares. She’s looking into his smiling face—a true smile—his eyes are alight with affection as he gazes down at her. Maggie reaches up, both of her palms covering Ares’s cheeks, pinching a little so his full lips are pursed. He shakes his head dislodging her hands but reaches down and embraces her.
I’m caught in the moment, I don’t look around at the restaurant to see if anyone needs my attention. Hell, I can’t seem to look away, even when Ares opens his eyes and finds me staring at them. I don’t look away. He pulls back from Maggie, eyes still glued to mine, and as she notices his lack of attention, she peers over her shoulder, finding me behind them.
That’s when the spell is finally broken. I shake away the tightness in my chest, the loneliness their reunion invoked, and get to work. I avoid Maggie for as long as possible, even after Ares finally leaves without saying goodbye to me. I