Blood of Zeus (Blood of Zeus #1) - Meredith Wild Page 0,4
the wheelchair under my best friend.
Jesse flashes a welcoming grin as the girls lean on the bright-blue rail that surrounds the weight pen.
“I’d say any time is the right time for you.”
His line, smooth as whipped cream, has clearly snagged the redhead.
She licks her lips as if some of the stuff got caught there too. “Ohhh, so smooth. That means you’re either an agent or a poet.”
“Scientist, actually. Unlike Yeats or Hughes, I can tell you all about the Betelgeuse supernova, the Cascadia subduction zone, and anything you want to know about the galactic bulge.”
He earns a side-eye. “That’s a new one.”
He mirrors my look. “It’s a real thing, damn it.”
The redhead hitches her glitter-trimmed sunglasses to the top of her head. “You had me at Betelgeuse, gorgeous. So…where are you boys off to after here?” she asks.
“And do you want some company?” her friend chimes in.
My spine stiffens, but I disguise it by wiping fake sweat off my neck. While Jesse’s new friend is nice enough—and I’m sure her pal is too—no way am I up for hours of forced socializing and then awkwardly refusing a trip back to a girl’s place for the night.
I don’t begrudge Jesse’s cavalier approach to sex, but I simply don’t share it. Weirdly, it hasn’t been a huge sacrifice. The mating merry-go-round just isn’t my ride. There’s something much more alluring about courting a woman. Learning her secrets. Winning her treasures.
Hell, maybe Jesse’s right. Maybe I belong on another planet. Or at least in another time.
“Uhhh,” I grit through a smile, hoping it looks contrite instead of constipated. “Sorry. We actually have another thing we’ve got to be at in a couple of hours. A private event. Downtown.”
All of that emerges without a glitch because it’s the truth. Tonight is a big night for Sarah and Reg, who are practically family. We’re not missing it. I brace for some show of disappointment from Jesse, but his scowl never materializes.
“Oh, yeah.” He beams a wider version of his megawatt grin. “The Melora Hall book-to-movie event at Recto Verso.”
I instantly want to kill him as both women look like they want to jump him.
“You’re going to the Melora Hall party?” Jesse’s admirer says.
“Seriously?” squeals her little friend.
“And at Recto Verso, too. I love that place!”
“Right? It’s so cute!”
As the women trade their exclamations, Jesse and I have an exchange of our own, silent but effective.
Cute? he mouths to me.
What the fuck? I answer, flaring my gaze.
We’re on the same page on this at least. Equally proud of everything our bookstore-owning friends have built on Spring and Fifth as well as the praise it’s received for the last thirty years—though “cute” doesn’t really fit. The reason the studio picked Recto Verso for this event was to lend the project some street cred with the literary and film snobs via the store’s trendy-but-intellectual vibe.
“So…we have a request of you ladies.” He lets a few beats build up their obvious anticipation. “They likely won’t accept Venus and Aphrodite as acceptable names on the event guest list…”
“I’m Misty!” the first one exclaims.
“And I’m Kristy!” says the second.
“Of course,” I mutter just for Jesse’s ears.
“Perfect,” he continues, not missing a beat. By now he’s got his phone out of his track pants pocket and extends it Misty’s way. “But just to be sure, put yourself in as contacts. Better include your last names and phone numbers too. Just in case I have to text you with an update or something.”
“Or something.” I’m louder about the repetition, as well as the chuckle I tack on.
“By the way,” he says while the girls add themselves to his device, “I’m Jesse, and this is Maximus.”
“Oh, I know Maximus.” Kristy bats her eyes at me. “I graduated from Alameda three years ago. Getting up early for your French Literature class was absolutely worth it.”
I clear my throat. Grit my way through another tense smile. “Well…I’m glad you benefited from your time at Alameda.”
“As I’m sure we’ll all benefit from tonight’s fun,” Jesse smoothly inserts.
I flash him a grateful glance. I’ve grown into a semi-hermit because I’ve had to. He’s grown into a halfway decent socialite for the same reason.
“Let’s say seven thirty?” he adds. “Festivities start at seven, but who wants to be on time?”
“Seven thirty it is.” Misty beams a wide smile. “We need to go home and primp now.”
“Ohhh, yes.” Kristy nods like a spring-necked dashboard kitten. “Primping is in order.” She winks my way. “Down to every last inch.”