But when I close my eyes and slip into a dreamless slumber, it’s with a smile on my lips.
“This is too risky.”
I cling to patience with everything I can. “So is your plan.” I hold up both my hands when Medusa starts to protest. “Just hear me out, please.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and slumps back against the headboard. She’s completely unreserved in her nakedness, and I’m doing my best not to be too distracted, but with her nipple piercings shining in the morning light and how her tattoos seem to shift on her skin with every move of her arms, it’s a challenge.
I clear my throat and force my gaze to her face. “I realize that Athena sent you over here, but even you have to admit that isn’t the normal mode of operations.”
A line appears between her brows. “Usually if someone manages to get across the river, that’s the end of it. I think if you hadn’t stolen from Odysseus, it would have been true for you as well.”
I’m not about to apologize for stealing from him. He took a hit out on me, for gods’ sake. That’s not the part I’m debating right now, though. “Haven’t you wondered why that was? The Thirteen are essentially only answerable to each other. There is absolutely no reason for them to call off pursuit. Yes, there’s a bit of a barrier, but you managed across just fine.”
“It was uncomfortable.” I give her a look and she sighs. “Okay, fine. It is weird when you put it like that. What’s your point?”
It’s only a theory, but we’ll find out the truth soon enough. “I think whoever is the leader of the lower city is powerful enough to give even the Thirteen pause.”
She frowns. “That seems impossible.”
“That’s because we grew up in the upper city. What if it isn’t impossible? What if this person can help us, and it won’t mean me leaving the city or you dealing with coming back to Athena empty-handed?”
Medusa’s frown melts away to a curiously blank expression. For the first time since meeting her, I can’t begin to guess what she’s thinking. She uncrosses her arms. “You don’t want me to go back.”
Every instinct I have—and my entire history—is clamoring for me to be quiet and play my cards close to my chest. Offering your heart to another person on a platter is a good way to get it thrown in the trash. Or a meat grinder.
I’m asking a lot of Medusa. For her faith, for her trust. If I can’t return the favor, what motivation does she have to listen to me?
It feels like balancing precariously on a high-wire above a fall to my death. I speak slowly, feeling my way. “I realize this may be difficult to believe considering how little time we’ve known each other and how we met, but last night meant something to me. It wasn’t just sex. I like you, Medusa. A lot. I feel very taken care of when I’m with you, and you make me want to take care of you, too. It…” Gods, this is hard. She’s still giving me nothing, but I push through. “It doesn’t feel transactional. I realize that might not be mutual, and I understand completely if you were just having fun, but—”
“It wasn’t.”
I blink. “It wasn’t fun?”
“What? No, that’s not what I meant.” She drags her hand through her blond hair, making it stand on end. “Or I don’t know if I’d qualify last night as fun. It was more like a religious experience, except I’m not religious and I don’t even know if I believe in the gods.”
I stare at her helplessly. I think I understand what she’s saying, but I’m suddenly terrified that I’m misreading things. It strikes me that while she has shown me a degree of kindness and care that I’m not used to, she’s obviously a good person, and that might just be how she moves through life. It’s a foreign concept to me, but that doesn’t mean it’s foreign to everyone. “Okay,” I say slowly.
“Oh no, I’m fucking this up.” She shoves to her feet and starts pacing around the tiny apartment. It’s a glorious sight. She’s fucking magnificent, and I can’t even allow myself to enjoy the sight because this conversation is too fraught. She finally spins to face me with an agonized expression on her face. “I like you, Calypso. I wouldn’t have done all this—I wouldn’t have had sex with you—if I didn’t. If you’re saying you want to—”
“Date you,” I rush in. “I want to date you. Exclusively. As your girlfriend.”
A slow smile dawns on her scarred face. “My girlfriend.”
“Yes…” I swallow hard. Why is this so difficult? “If that’s what you want.”
She takes one large step and then she’s on me, bearing me down to the mattress and kissing me hard enough to make my head spin. She peppers kisses across my jaw. “Yes, it’s what I want. Are you kidding me? I’m warning you now, Calypso, I’m going to fall in love with you. Prepare yourself.”