Writing on Wednesday: Deleted Scene


“Aphrodite. . . ”
“Yes?” I couldn’t manage more than a whisper.
“Last night. . . ” Something I didn’t recognize flickered in his eyes. “You know it didn’t. . . mean anything. Right?”
If he’d stabbed me, it would have hurt less. Laughing, I twined my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him. “Oh, Adonis,” I breathed. “Don’t flatter yourself. You aren’t nearly as impressive as you think you are.”
“Probably not.” Adonis smirked.
I wondered if he realized I’d just quoted the first thing he’d ever said to me. Did he even remember? Was it pathetic I did?
“Adonis!” The photographer snapped.
“Sorry!” He schooled his expression into a pout. “Anyway, glad we’re on the same page. I didn’t want things to get awkward. I mean don’t get me wrong, you’re—” he leaned back, flashing me an appreciative look—”wow, and last night was a lot of fun. Well.” His fingers tightened on my waist. “Until it wasn’t.”
Yeah, Poseidon showing up kind of ruined everything.
“But you know, you’re still a. . . well a god. And I—”
“Hate gods, yeah I know.” So why did his heart pound so hard against my hand? “Well.” I smiled, trying not to show how hurt I felt. “You’re still a half-breed, so it shouldn’t be any great loss.”
Adonis glanced up at the ceiling. “Are you even aware of how offensive calling me a half-breed is? I mean, really?”
“You hate my entire species,” I reminded him. “Do you really think you’ve got a leg to stand on?”
“I don’t hate you.” He titled his head, capturing my gaze and flashing me a smile that managed to be reassuring and apologetic in equal parts. The photographer shouted a warning and the smile disappeared.
No, you don’t hate me. Just everything that makes me, me. But at least I looked nice and making out with me felt fun. I couldn’t wrap my mind around Adonis. What was with all this polite small talk disguised so thoroughly as friendly banter that I kept losing sight of the line?
“I still think you should get off this boat at the first opportunity.”
“Why worry?” I planted a hand to his hip, holding still for the camera. “You’ve made your opinion of me abundantly clear.”
Adonis snorted. “It really bothers you that I don’t worship the ground you walk on like everyone else, doesn’t it?”
“You’re just jealous because I don’t have to prance around in front of the camera to get attention,” I teased.

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