He’d popped us into my apartment later that night and suffocated me with kisses before disappearing. The whole experience had been surreal. Randomly visiting a museum in Rome, Delos island, sleeping with a Greek god, and on a cloud no less. The worst part was, I couldn’t share any of it with Kate. Not only would she think I was crazy, but Apollo or Ace had an identity to keep concealed. I’d made the evil thoughts leave as soon as they tried to corrupt my mind. Better to enjoy the moments I had with him than worry about a future I couldn’t predict.

Sleep didn’t come easily, but I managed to get a few hours in, humming a song to myself. A song I’d never heard before, but that floated from my throat like I had heard it a dozen times. When I showed up at the studio, Kate didn’t even let me throw my bag off my shoulder before she shoved her face into mine.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually have shin splints, and you used it as an excuse to hang out with a rock star?” Kate clutched her chest.

My cheeks warmed, and I knew it was impossible to hide the satisfied look on my face from Kate. “Definitely an excuse.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Laurel,” she shouted, clapping a hand over her mouth.

I laughed, going through the motions of slipping on my pointe shoes and absently staring at the floor as I did up the ribbons.

She flopped down next to me. “Are you going to leave me hanging?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t one of those women who gave a play by play of her escapades—especially not the kind that went into detail.

She slapped her hands against her thighs. “Oh, come on. I’ll tell you all about my night.”

“You don’t have to.” I stood up, stretching my feet by pushing on the point of my shoes. “As long as you physically saw him, that’s all I need to know.” Cupping her chin with my hand, I grinned, maintaining my calm demeanor.

I could feel his presence before he was near me as he whisked through the door. Tingles cascaded all over my skin. He gave his hair a toss before walking up and curling his arm around my waist. He leaned in for a kiss, gently brushing our lips together.

“Remember to call me Ace,” he whispered against my neck. He nodded at Kate before walking into the studio with his guitar case in hand.

Kate’s mouth fell open. “I had no idea things had…escalated between you two.”

“They hadn’t—until last night.” Heat pooled in my face, and I cradled the bag over my arm.

Kate followed me, nearly nipping her toes against my heels. “I’m your best friend, Laurel. And as your best friend, I have certain rights. One of them is hearing about this epic night even if it’s the CliffsNotes version.”

“I’ll tell you about it over coffee sometime.”

“Over coffee? My God. You do want to keep it PG.” She pinched my ribs before moving to her spot at the barre.

It hadn’t occurred to me at the time, but the spot Apollo chose for us to consummate our newfound affection for the first time was my spot at the barre. My hands hovered over it, remembering my butt propped on it, Apollo shoving my back into the wall as he—

“Something wrong?” Apollo’s voice purred against my ear.

“Did you know this was my spot?”

He slid a hand over my hip, making sure to hide it from everyone else. “Yes.” His eyes grew heavy. “Enjoy rehearsal.”

My stomach fluttered. He had one thing right. I wouldn’t know what to do if we stopped our verbal battling altogether. It was much a part of our dynamic as a connection with music. I glared at him, though my eyes couldn’t hide their intrigue, and threw my leg onto the barre to stretch.

“Miss Berg, I trust your shins are feeling better?” Roy asked, taking his spot at the front of the room.

Apollo sat in the corner, tuning his guitar. When he caught me staring, his smile turned electric.

“Good as new, sir.”

“Good. I want you to run through the duet piece after Ace and Miss Harland practice at the rehearsal’s end. Think you can handle that?” Roy tossed his newspaper onto the podium.

My thighs clenched together. “Absolutely.”

After ten minutes of us all prepping our muscles for a full day of overexertion, we took our places for the opening number. We’d been practicing enough at this point. It was time to practice the production in sequence. Apollo…Ace, I really needed to get used to even thinking of the name Ace. Otherwise, I’d accidentally blurt out Apollo. Ace played his guitar, walking circles around the group. He added extra flourish as he started to bob and weave between our fixed lines.

The first time he passed by me, my insides twisted like right before a climax, and I had to swallow back a yelp. I gulped, regaining my composure, and narrowed my eyes at him. He probed me with his gaze—a challenge. Alright. I lifted my chin and struck the next formation pose—a plie sequencing into effacé. I raised my arm above my head, pointing the opposite foot in front of me.

Twist.

My shoulders hunched forward for a split second before I forced them back. Warmth traveled down my neck, and I watched Ace move through the group of dancers. He strummed the guitar, weaving between each woman who couldn’t help but look at him out of the corners of their eyes. His gaze, however, never left me.

Twist.

A small whimper escaped my lips, and Ace strummed the guitar louder so no one could hear me. His lips curled, and I widened my eyes at him.

Universal body language for: What the hell are you doing?

We managed to make it through the rest of the first piece without him toying with me again.

As soon as Roy called for a break, I walked up to Ace with balled fists. “Can I see you outside for a minute?”

He pressed a hand over his chest, face flooding with mock concern as he rested the guitar against the wall. “Why, of course, Miss Berg.”

Once we were out of the studio and out of sight from prying eyes, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. His back slammed into the lockers behind him, and he chuckled into my mouth as he kissed me, hands kneading my upper back.

“Was that you?” The question came out in a husky breath.

He traced his finger over my jawline. “Of course, it was Sparky.”

“I don’t know whether to be angry with you or—”

“Or?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“To hell with it.” I kissed him again, slipping my hands under his shirt like a pubescent teenager unable to control myself.

He laughed and gently pushed me away. “Laurel, Laurel.”

My lips puckered in the air, and I frowned when they didn’t meet his.

“As much as I appreciate this enthusiasm. Trust me, I do.” He adjusted himself with a grunt. “I don’t want you getting in trouble with Mr. Stick Up His Ass in there.”

I wiped the corners of my mouth with a finger, letting out a shaky breath. “You can’t do your stomach twist trick anymore. It gets me…”

“That was the point,” he said with a sexy squint.

I put my hands on my hips in a huff. “Ace.”

“Fine. Cross my heart.” He made a crisscross gesture over his chest.

“Okay.” I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let it out like I was meditating. “Let’s get back in there.”

“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight? I’ll make you my favorite Greek dish.”

“You have a place?”

“Where’d you think I lived? Olympus?”

I shifted my eyes and shrugged. “Well, yes.”

“I try to avoid it as much as possible. Yes. I have a place. An apartment.”

“Alright. What time?”

He brushed past me. “I’ll pop in around seven.”

I stood still as he backed away, dragging a hand down my neck. I’d be in his domain. It was different in the studio. Neutral territory. But his place? I’d be at his mercy.

We continued through rehearsal, casting knowing glances at each other. Whenever Kate faced me, her expression changed. They varied between slap-happy, annoyance, and “tell me already.” Ace kept his promise and didn’t once toy with my insides again. Not that I didn’t want him to. I just didn’t see explaining to my peers and director why I had an orgasm in the middle of rehearsal.

When he danced with Jamie, I felt a pang of jealousy. It wasn’t the deranged sort where I was ready to plot her demise or anything, but I’d never been the jealous type. Seeing his hands on her and the serene look on her face every time he touched her made me antsy. He was my inspiration. Dear God, now I sounded possessive.

“Miss Berg?” Roy’s derisive tone made me snap to attention.

He must’ve said my name more than once.

I took a deep breath and trotted to Ace, ignoring the continued seething gazes from Jamie. When Ace and I locked eyes, we transported to a world we created only for us. A place where we danced for ourselves, away from an audience begging for entertainment—away from demanding directors using us to see their vision come alive. When his hands slid over the peaks and valleys of my body, his touch had a newfound appreciation. He knew my body now. He’d mapped the trajectory.

When we landed the final move with his hands wrapped around my backside, he let me slide down him, tracing his hands up the length of my back. My breasts slid past his chin and brushed his chest as he lowered me. I stared up at him with my lips parted, breathy. The performance was about two lovers forbidden to be with each other due to their opposing families. In a twisted way, I wondered if it were the same for us. I was a mere mortal, and he was of a grand family of Greek gods and goddesses. Was it possible? Accepted?

“I think I need a cold shower, and I wasn’t even the one dancing with him,” one dancer remarked, grounding me back to reality.

Everyone stared, including Roy, who stood slack-jawed.

Ace squinted at Roy. “Was that about the caliber you wanted?”

“Yes. That’ll—” Roy cleared his throat. “That’ll about do it.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” Ace whispered in my ear before making for the exit, slinging his guitar over his shoulder on his way out.

Kate walked up behind me, catching me staring at Ace’s ass walking through the doorway. She slipped her arm through the crook of mine. “Not entirely sure, but I may have just witnessed my best friend having sex with her clothes on.”

“I guess we forgot where we were for a moment there.” Sweat formed on the back of my neck.

“Oh, I don’t care. I just hope it doesn’t make things awkward between us.” Her eyes twinkled.

If I only had something to throw at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Miss Berg,” Roy called out.

After grabbing my bag, I braced for another impact. “Yes, sir?”

He wiped the lens of his glasses with his shirt. “You keep performing like that, and you’ll make principal next year, I assure you.”

“Well, thank you, sir. That means the world to me to hear.” However, it would’ve meant more months prior.

“Have a good night,” he said with a warm smile.

Later that evening, I stood in my apartment, waiting for Ace to appear in the middle of my living room. I curled my hair into waves and dug my Apollo’s Suns tank top from the back of my closet, thinking it’d be cute. A jean skirt and gold pair of flats finished my apartment dinner ensemble.

In a flash of a sunray, he appeared, dressed in his rock star glory. His eyes roamed over my face but dropped to the sun logo stretched across my chest.

“Ah, you found it, did you?” His eyes lingered on the tank top.

I dragged a finger under one strap. “Had to crawl on my hands and knees to retrieve it.”

He growled, yanking me to him with his arm wrapped around my waist. “I would’ve liked to see that.”

“I may consider reenacting it for you later if this dinner keeps my stamina up.”

A throaty chuckle escaped his throat. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

He popped us into his apartment. It was a vast loft that screamed a bachelor pad—black leather furniture, huge HD tv hung on the wall with a fireplace underneath, and a kitchen with a white marble island surrounded by stools. Platinum framed records bordered the walls. Various styled sun sculptures rested on pedestals—no signs or hints of a mythical god living here.

“It looks so…” I started, the words escaping me.

“Normal?” His fingertips grazed my back as he walked to the kitchen.

“Yes. But I love it. Especially all the open space.”

The smell of beef and tomato permeated the air, steam wafting from the stove. He stood behind it, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. The sight of it made warmth pool between my thighs. I walked up behind him, resting my chin on his shoulder.

“Couldn’t you—” I snapped my fingers.

He slipped the lid back on his concoction and turned to face me, circling his arms around my hips. “I could, but where would the fun be in it?”

“You, Apollo, are something else.”

He dragged his finger down the sun logo on my chest. “Nah. I’m who I need to be. What the universe told me to be. You, on the other hand, are a treasure.”

My cheeks flushed, and I buried my face in the nape of his neck. “What are you making?”

“Youvetsi. It’s like a Greek beef stew.” He tensed. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you? I didn’t think to ask.”

I tugged his sun pendant. “No, no. Quite omnivorous, I assure you.”

“Good. It’s almost ready. Why don’t you go sit at the table, and I’ll bring it over?” He pointed at a mahogany table with high-backed chairs. A ceiling light hung low with dimmed lighting.

Eight white lit candles of different heights rested in the center of the table, along with an open bottle of red wine. Two place settings were on one side of the table. Not on the length ends, but right next to each other. I slipped onto one seat, my feet dangling before resting them on a wrung of the chair.

He joined me soon after, with two steaming bowls in his hands. After setting them down, he poured wine for both of us and took the seat next to me. I picked up my spoon, but he rested a hand on my forearm to keep me from digging in.

“I almost forgot.” He wiggled his fingers over my bowl. The orange surge of his magic fluttered over it, creating perfectly crisped cheese.

“What happened to not using your powers to make the food?” I tilted my head to the side.

“Give and take.”

I licked my lips in anticipation, scooping the first bite into my mouth. Flavors of tomato, garlic, and onion burst across my tongue. “Mm, this is so good. What kind of cheese is this?”

“Kefalotyri. Nowadays, they tend to use romano, but I’m rather old-fashioned myself.” He caught my gaze.

I choked, suppressing a laugh. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“It’s refreshing, you know.” He tapped his spoon on the edge of his bowl.

“What is?”

“Being myself around you.” His face softened.

“It’s remarkable to think you’ve never been yourself around anyone else. Not even your band? They’re right there on stage with you. How could they not tell?”

He picked at his food with the spoon. “They never asked. I think my powers look like special effects to them with no real way of explaining how they happen. Like I’m the rock ‘n’ roll version of Criss Angel or something.”

“You’re definitely a mind freak. In a good way.” I bit down on my lip.

His bedroom eyes returned. “I already told you once. You keep feeding it, and my head will surely explode.”

“Is this how you really look?” I blurted.

My curiosity got the best of me.

His eyes shifted. “Not…entirely. Do you want to see it?”

“Depends. You don’t look like a hairy, green troll under a bridge or anything, do you?”

“And if I did?”

My throat constricted. “I’d uh—like you all the same. It would just take some getting used to.”

He let out a hearty laugh, curling his hand over his mouth. “Well, lucky for you. No, I don’t look like a troll.”

I tried to hide the sheer relief swarming over me.

“Close your eyes,” he implored.

Doing as instructed, I tapped my fingernail on the table, waiting for him to tell me to open them.

“Go ahead.”

When I looked, he sat in front of me…exactly the same. Only his skin looked different, shiny, like actual bronze.

“What’s different?”

“Are you kidding? My skin looks like metal.” He pointed at his arm.

I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing. “So, you look the same, god or mortal, except for an extra bit of shininess?”

“Well, much like my name is the same in both Greek and Roman, my true form also stays the same. I’m the only god that can say such a thing.”

“And how did you draw that particular straw?” I asked, eating more of the delicious stew.

He touched the little hairs on my forearm, making my skin prickle. “When more mortals believed in us, worshipped us, I was one of the most popular and loved gods.”

“Hence your ego. I can see that. What excuse do the rest of them have?” A sly grin tugged at my lips.

His eyes sparkled, and he took a sip of his wine, keeping his gaze on me over the rim. “You have another question. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of a ton of questions, but one I’m insanely curious about is the muses. You say they’re actual goddesses. Can I meet them?”

“Of course. They’re all off inspiring, but when they return, I’ll be sure to introduce you.”

I sat back in my chair. “Every time I’ve referred to my ‘muse,’ I never thought I was talking about an entity.”

“To clarify, it isn’t always us. We may show up to give the spark, but the rest is entirely up to you. Sometimes, mortals don’t need us at all. We’re there when they do. When they’re close, but need the extra push.”

I scooted my chair closer to him, resting my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand. “It must be an amazing feeling to be able to influence someone like that—on such a grand scale.”

“Laurel,” he started, interlacing our fingers. “It doesn’t matter if you inspire ten people or a thousand. If you can create a fire within a singular person, then you’ve already done a service.”

“Then, according to you.” I brushed my nose against his. “I’ve already serviced you several times.”

A masculine purr vibrated in the back of his throat. “And I don’t want you to stop. Don’t ever stop.” His lips slid over mine, and his hand gathered my hair at the back of my head.

We spent the rest of the night inspiring each other.

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