A Date of Godlike Proportions (The Blooming Goddess Trilogy Book 2.5) (2 page)

He motioned for us to take our seats, promising to return with tea.

The dim lighting made the already small space feel even more intimate.

I faced my boyfriend across the table. It was still weird to think of him that way after so many years of trying not to think of him at all.

Surprisingly, the date progressed smoothly throughout dinner. The sheer entertainment of the meal’s presentation, including sushi served on dry ice, kept our conversation flowing. It was all good until Festos asked, “Pancakes or eggs?”

My chopsticks paused over the piece of unagi I was about to snag. “Huh?”

“Well,” he speared a bite of miso cod, watching me with a casualness that had to be calculated. “I’m guessing that we’re living together now? Even if you seem to be sleeping by Sophie’s bedside. Which is good. I get that. But you know, you’ll want breakfast. So, which are you? I’m Team Eggs but I can stock that awful mix crap for you if you want. Don’t expect pancakes from scratch, though. I don’t do that.”

He was babbling.

I grabbed for my green tea and gratefully gulped some down. “Good question. Um, yeah. Excuse me a sec.”

I pushed away from the table and tried not to bolt too blatantly. Make it seem like a normal bathroom visit. I kept a wary eye out for ninjas as I wove my way to the men’s room.

I had a moment in there, after washing my hands, where I caught my own image in the mirror. I stood over the sink and stared at myself. Tried to see what Festos did. Understand why he’d kept up such optimism about us. About me. But all I saw was black spiky hair, square black-framed glasses, and no answers.

I studied my slouchy “whatever” stance. At the careful air of teen contempt I maintained for most of the world. It was easier to let people see what they expected to see than to raise questions about the constant vigilance no normal kid my age would possess. Festos was one of the few who knew the truth about me.

Some of it, anyway.

I glanced down at my hand as I flexed it. The subconscious movement that preceded grabbing my magic chain in a dangerous situation. In the crazy short time since Festos had come back into my life, it had been one danger after another. Which had meant he’d seen me at my best. Because that kind of danger? The type involving battling gods and taking down their minions? That I could handle.

Eggs and pancakes? One-on-one breakfast time where the only drama was our own? Or worse, no drama at all? Just him and me with nothing to hide behind? I shuddered.

We’d already said, “I love you.” Wasn’t that the scary part?

I bowed my head. My shoulders hunched. Why did a stupid question about breakfast food feel so monumental?

I spun, intending to reach for a paper towel, and jumped at the sight of another ninja. An oddly tall and well-built ninja, whose black mask obscured his face.

No regular restaurant employee here. This was a Photokia, one of Zeus’ minions, dressed in ninja garb. He lunged as I yanked the magic chain from my belt. The chain glowed white hot.

I threw him a grim smile and sidestepped his bulking form. “You’re interrupting my date.”

He grabbed my torso.

I twisted from his grip, snapping my chain millimeters from his face, and sent the arc of gold lightning firing from his eyes in another direction.

His fist connected painfully with my eye, blurring my vision and balance so that I barely dodged his next blast.

I felt absurdly pleased at his presence. Here was something back in my control. Something I could handle. My smile grew both grimmer and wider.

I launched a spinning kick that sent him flying into the far wall. This was going to be fun.

But not for Festos.

I clenched my jaw. I didn’t need to stay here and fight. No one was in danger if I walked away. Still, better to take him out, right?

Avoidance much?

I dodged the minion’s next blast, crouching low to the floor as I flung the bathroom door open, my choice made. There’d be no no-holds-barred fights tonight. No getting singed or incinerated.

I ran back to our private room. My heart pounded and sweat plastered my hair to the back of my neck.

It wasn’t from the Photokia.

Festos looked up, puzzled. “Ninja disturb your visit to the restroom?”

“Minions.”

“Minions? As in, not stealthy Japanese assassins?”

I caught a blur of motion in the corner of my eye and shoved Festos down. His head hit the table with a hard thud, but better that than lose it to the lightning crossfire of the now two attackers in our tiny room. “As in,” I echoed dryly.

Festos hurriedly shoved a hand in his pocket and dumped a pile of bills on the table. Then he grabbed my hand, shifting us to a parking lot.

This hopping from place to place was getting dizzying. But my boyfriend’s hand was the anchor keeping me afloat.

“We’ve had Chernobyl fish and far too lifelike ninjas,” he began.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what comes next,” I said.

Festos gave me a hard look. “A drink. Most definitely.” He jogged down a flight of cement stairs to a metal door at the basement level of a neighboring hotel.

He flung the door open. “Welcome to the Tiki Hut. Where the vibe is dive and the IDing is lax.” He gave a low bow. “Enter.”

“Dive” seemed about right, but I was still taken aback. “It’s where 1950s Hawaiian movie props come to die,” I said.

The space was a clutter of wood, fake grass adorning faker looking “huts” (bars and booths), and palm trees nestled up against tiki masks of varying sizes. But the pi
è
ce de résistance was the smoking volcano in the center of the room. Glory be to red light bulbs.

I’d admit that the beached fish was an accident and the ninja restaurant had a kind of campy charm to it. But this was so not my scene.

Each step inside this place of smiling faces and tinkling laughter made me feel more and more queasy. He was life and light and fun. I … was not. Why would he want my darkness in his beautifully illuminated world?

He looked at me sharply, as if he could read my thoughts. Which was impossible, as I’d schooled my features to stay in pleasant mode.

“I just need a drink,” he muttered, in a very resigned and un-him voice.

I kept my mouth shut as we shouldered our way through the throng.

We snagged a rickety wooden table near the bathroom. Festos flung himself into the chair then hooked his foot to drag the chair opposite so it was beside him. “Beseat yourself.”

I sank into the chair, watching him, concerned. “You okay?”

He ignored me and gently pressed a finger under my eye, probing.

I hissed and winced at the pain that flared through me.

“That’s gonna bruise,” he muttered. He sat up abruptly. “Drinks. Now.”

He started to rise, but I snagged his arm and tugged him down. “Stop.”

“Why?” he asked. “So I can look at you and see what a disaster this night has been?”

“It hasn’t been a
—
”

“Don’t.” He spoke in a low voice, his eyes locked on mine. “Don’t patronize me. And definitely don’t lie to me. Ever.”

We sat there in hopeless silence. I wondered how much longer Festos would make us endure this farce. He craned his neck all around, looking for a server to take our drink order.

A passing waiter sloshed a couple of glasses of water onto our table and muttered something about returning in a minute.

He never returned.

Finally, Festos reached his limit. “Goddamn indifferent hipster piece of crap service,” he swore.

He looked tense enough to snap, so I placed my hand on his arm to calm him.

It had entirely the opposite effect. His eyes flashed as fire sparked from his fingertips.

And just like that my sleeve was ablaze.

I stared at it dumbly. “You set me on fire.”

It was hot. And burning. And hot.

Festos swore and tossed his water on my arm. Enough of it hit the flame to douse it, but the rest of the contents splashed into my face and hair.

I was now dripping, sooty, and scorched. I gaped at Festos.

He pursed his lips, twisting them to the side in a grimace. “On an awkwardness scale of slight blush to please Earth, swallow me whole, where exactly would you rate this?”

I swiped my sodden hair out of my face and glared at him.

He pushed to his feet and stalked out of the restaurant without a look back.

Grabbing a handful of napkins, I followed as fast as I could, dabbing myself dry. I tossed the napkins out before catching up to my boyfriend halfway through the parking lot.

I grabbed his arm. “I’m the one that’s cold and wet here. You don’t get to be mad.”

He yanked his arm away. “Why not? You’re mad about everything!” He flung his arms open wide. “The past, the present, the future. Attacks, lack of attacks. Singing! You get mad about singing. Who does that?”

“Please,” I huffed.

He laughed. It was a loveless noise totally unlike his usual joyful sound. “I could feel your scowl from two rooms away.” Frustration flashed across his perfect face. “I am the stupidest god that ever lived.”

I did not want to go here. Did not want to see how I was ruining him. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and regarded him with a bland look. “You done with the drama?”

“
Drama
?” He turned a furious glower on me. “Because I wanted one happy night. One good date. Well, you know what? I’d rather be dramatic than a hope-killer.”

My mouth fell open in shock. “I am not.”

“You willed this date to fail before it ever had a chance.” He shoved my chest. “You jinxed it.”

He turned away, his breathing ragged.

Moonlight sliced across his features. Even partially in shadow, I could see the hurt on his face.

A million protests swirled in my head but one thought cut through them all with a cold clarity. All this beautiful guy had wanted was a special night for us, and I couldn’t let myself have it.

It was time to face facts. It hadn’t been my guilt that was the problem. Not my duties and responsibilities. I was scared that I wouldn’t measure up. That if Festos finally got a chance to see me as I was now, he’d wonder what he’d seen in the first place.
And why he should bother sticking around
.

“You’re right.” My breath puffed white in the cold night air.

Festos turned slowly back to face me, but he didn’t speak. He crossed his arms and waited for me to continue.

I scuffed my toe into the pavement, feeling irrationally angry. It was one thing to realize what was going on for me, totally another to voice it.

Sharing was about as high on my list of things to do as being chained to the rock again.

“Talk to me?” Maybe it was the hesitation in Festos’ own voice. Maybe it was the vulnerability I saw reflected in his eyes. Whatever it was, it gave me the courage to start talking.

“You and I are about drama.” I held up my hand to stave off the inevitable protest. “Twenty-five-hundred years to get to a second date? Drama. Dealing with Sophie and Kai and Zeus and Hades and saving the world? Danger. I can do danger. I can be the efficient, no nonsense one who cuts through it and provides unassailable common sense to help us find our way to safety.”

“That’s thinking highly of yourself,” Festos muttered.

“Shut up,” I said, with a small shake of my head. “I’m apologizing here.”

He zipped it.

“What you wanted? Tonight? It wasn’t even drama. It was a date. A perfectly ordinary date that represented normal, everyday life. That scared me.”

Festos shook his head. He clearly didn’t get it.

I sighed. “You and I are so different. I understand crisis. I thrive in crisis. I’m just not sure I’m any good on the day-to-day. And if I’m not …” I frowned and jammed my hands a little deeper in my pockets. My shoulders now riding up around ear level, I thrummed tightly with tension.

“You think I wouldn’t want you?”

I shrugged.

Now it was his turn to frown. “Do you or do you not love me?”

How could he not know? I laughed, my eyes heavenward. “Love doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“Then what does?” He sounded annoyed.

Oh, man. He was really going to make me do this.

I forced myself to face him. Forced my lips to open and speak when all I wanted to do was walk
—
no, run
—
away.

Except, I didn’t want that either.

Festos was losing his patience. Time to speak or forever regret it.

I looked into his eyes, willing him to understand the truth and weight of my words. “I look at you, and my body realizes that the endless possibilities of the universe stretch out from this moment in time.”

His expression lost a hint of wariness.

I placed one hand on his abs. “I look at you and all the lines of possibility converge between my stomach and the small of my back.” I placed my other hand on his back to illustrate, feeling him tense under my touch. Seeing his eyes flare hot and deep.

I leaned in. “I look at you and I get that feeling you get when your foot leaves the cliff and your body senses the water is still a very long way off. I’m falling but you smile at me and slip your hand in mine and I
want
to fall and land with you.”

“Then land.” Festos’ voice was a whisper against my lips.

He made it sound so easy.

It could be.

It is.

I pushed my hand deeper into the small of his back, enough to make him close the final millimeters between us.

I leaned into the curve of his lips, with a kiss that was slow and soft. A dangerous gateway kiss. A kiss that ignited fire from deep in my core. Planets collided as his mouth moved against mine.

I felt his muscles ripple under my touch. His scent enveloped me. There was no room in my existence for anything except him.

My nerves crackled with electricity and the sheer thrill of being alive, and here with Festos.

Lost in the moonlight, in each other, we kissed.

Until I gently pulled away. “I’m glad for tonight,” I told him. And I realized with a sudden fierceness that it was true. At this moment there was nowhere else I’d rather be. “All of it.”

Festos blinked at whatever expression he’d seen written on my face, then he threw me his trademark roguish grin. “Like that was ever in doubt, Thesi.” But he rested his head in the hollow of my neck as he said it.

And just like that, I knew I’d landed.