Chapter 24
twenty-four
Walking wide-legged, I leave the library flushed and hoping no one saw us.
I scurry toward Sorority Row and Omega House, with my new husband’s cum dripping down my thighs the entire way. As soon as I reach my floor, I aim for the shared bathroom to clean up.
Once that’s done, I halt outside my room and take a deep breath. Hand on the doorknob, I steel myself for the pit of despair. Knowing it’ll be dark and quiet on the other side is enough to drive me crazy.
Because Ellis is gone.
As soon as I flip on the light, a lump forms in my throat.
I can’t do this for another night.
Maybe that’s the thought that makes me throw all my bags onto my bed and toss my clothes inside. Then my toiletries. Rip my photos off the walls. And even grab my stash of lollipops that Ayan always left for me on my desks. Not that I miss him. But it’s good to have one while I study sometimes.
I hold up a pink one, twirling it around. What was I thinking?! Looking at it makes me gag. I leave them in the drawer and pick up my pillow instead.
Using my phone, I search out the apartment complex’s address across from campus, the Aeternum Residences. After loading up my car, I head that way.
A new, modern four-story building sits next to a few cute restaurants and small shops. The apartment is on the first floor. Not what I would have picked, but it’s free.
At least it has a nice view of the park and woods stretching behind it, leading toward the ritzy south side of Northview.
As I approach the front door, an unfamiliar smell wafts through. My stomach cramps with hunger. Spices, rich and lush, overwhelm me as I slip the key into the slot and step inside the entryway.
Classic rock blasts from speakers. I gasp as I take in the place.
It’s nice. Better than nice. Roomier than my tiny box back at the sorority house. And it looks as if Apollo and his brothers set up a lot of things already.
The living area has some throw pillows. And a giant TV, of course.
A dining room near the door is barren except for a large table and one chair.
When I round the corner, I’m impressed with the kitchen. It’s larger than I would think.
But that’s not what has my heartbeat thumping…
The massive man in the middle is topless, except for a blue-and-white striped apron. His hips shift dangerously to the beat of the music as he dances around the kitchen, stirring a steaming pot on the stove while simultaneously checking something in the oven.
He flips around toward the other counter, snagging a chef’s knife to chop lettuce on a cutting board. His body jolts as he spots me studying him from the doorway. But his look of shock is quickly replaced with a confident smirk.
I hate that it takes my breath away.
“Hey, tulip! You’re just in time. Grab some pitas from the serving platter with my tzatziki.
I got my mom’s pastitsio reheating for us.
Working on a salad, too.” He waves the blade around as I stand stunned at his entire display.
“But don’t worry. If you’re a vegetarian, I have lentil soup on the stove.
But that may take a while. I couldn’t do the canned stuff.
Only the best for you. So I’m making it from scratch. ”
I freeze. Not at the food.
At him.
Rocked inside at how competent and in his element he seems. And that he did this…for me?
I shake my head and blink a few times. “I-I’m not vegetarian,” I whisper, remembering I barely ate at our reception.
“Great! Here you go.” He hands me a bowl to fill up with salad fixings and the sauce.
My nose lingers over the pot of lentils, inhaling a comforting breath. It not only warms my face, but my whole body heats. Mainly by the fact that the man behind me took the time and care to do all of this. “How long does the soup cook for?”
As soon as I ask, I spy the package of lentils on the counter and answer my own question.
“Uh, like an hour,” Apollo says, chopping away at the salad.
“This says half an hour.”
He turns to look at the bag I’m holding and nods rapidly. “Yeah. I just like to let them simmer longer. Better flavor. Do me a favor? Tell me how long the clock says.”
It appears he knows what he’s doing, and I have to admit, I’m truly impressed.
“Just fifteen minutes. Is that for both the Past-the-whatever in the oven and soup?”
“Yeah. That’s why I made the appetizers. In case you couldn’t wait.”
I slide onto a bar stool, one that feels uncomfortably new. But at least it’s the right height.
I can’t help the moan that escapes as I taste my first bite of his pita with tzatziki. “Nice… You must have spent all day fixing this place up.”
He glances around and brings his bowl over to sit beside me. “It still needs stuff. I forgot a shower curtain but can pick one up tomorrow.”
Guilt coils tight in my chest, sharp and inescapable. This man? Yeah. He and his brothers did all this.
For us.
While I stayed up at the library, sulking and trying to study. Even after I got freaked out by those lines someone left me, I went to the medical library instead of coming here.
I place my hand on his thigh, and he catches the movement. “We can go after dinner tonight, if you’d like. I can help pick out things.”
His grin widens as he turns his face toward me, easy and unguarded. Dimples press into his cheeks—softening him in a way that feels…wrong. Dangerous to me. Something in my body reacts. Low and immediate.
No. I don’t think Apollo Griffin smiles like this for just anyone. And for a second, I hate how much it feels like I earned it. Because I might need to see it again.
He moves around the kitchen like he belongs there and serves me hot Greek lasagna with soup. At least it looks like lasagna, but tastes even better.
“Holy shit, this is amazing!” I’m shoveling in bites, unable to even express how phenomenal the dishes are.
“Yeah, I can make it better. But didn’t have time to prepare the dough.” He clears his throat and swallows another bite. “I will, though. Soon.” As if he’s copying me, his hand lands on my thigh, and I relax into his side. Belly full and insides warm.
I finish up what’s on my plate and look longingly at the leftovers but decide against a second helping. Elbowing his side gently, I urge, “Hurry up! Let’s get to the store before they close!”
I dash toward the bedroom to deposit my bags, but stop when I turn on the light.
“We’re not using that bedding,” I say, finger pointing at the stiff brown fabric that covers the bed with two flat pillows on top.
Apollo chuckles as he approaches me from behind. His thick arms lace around my waist, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head. It’s strange how natural it feels.
“Then you should have been here earlier. Could have helped me choose something different.”
He takes the bags from my hands and sets them in the walk-in closet, then returns with a dazzling smile. “Let’s head out.”