only thing that triggered any sort of memory in him. How could he let go of that? What if it was the only way for him to recover from his amnesia?
Dio shook his head and ordered another drink. What she demanded from him was unacceptable. Deep down he knew that he wasn’t the kind of man who would have agreed to her conditions in the first place. Only a pussy-whipped wimp would. And he didn’t think he belonged to that vile species. He might have lost his memory, but he knew how he felt.
He desired Ariadne, he ached to touch her and bury himself in her to the hilt, but he wasn’t an idiot who’d allow a woman to push him around like that, not even one he loved.
There had to be another reason why she didn’t want to sleep with him, because her claim that it was his drinking that held her back was too unbelievable. Hell, she owned a wine shop! She of all people should understand his love of wine, and appreciate that, as far as he could tell, he was not a drunk. No, she was mad at him for something else, and for Hades’ sake, he’d get behind it.
Hades’ sake? Where on Olympus did he come up with these strange expressions?
He kicked the next glass back just like the first and kept ordering. Closing time came too early for his liking, but maybe it was just as well. He stumbled back to his pad, his legs almost giving out underneath him as he walked up the stairs. He made it as far as the living room.
The last thing he saw were a bunch of flowers on the kitchen counter. He’d bought them for Ariadne, wanting to surprise her but had never had the chance to give them to her.
Maybe it was better that way. There was no need to give her any more reason to believe he was a besotted idiot who would give into everything she demanded.
His head spun, the alcohol in his blood finally catching up with him. He collapsed face down on the couch and passed out.
***
Something made his eye twitch. Still barely awake, Dio eased one eye open and was met with a bright ray of sunshine. “Helius, I hate you right now,” he mumbled under his breath.
A moment later he shot up from his prone position. What kind of stupid garbage was he spouting? Who the fuck was Helius? A thought came and went just as fast, but didn’t stick. Could he be a chemistry teacher? Maybe he’d meant helium, but why?
Dio looked at himself and noticed his rumpled clothes. Great! He’d slept in them, evidence that he’d been too out of it last night to think clearly. As he attempted to rise, his body protested. Shit, his head hurt! Maybe the last drink had been one too many after all. He was the first to admit that. However, the other glasses before that had been fine.
He made another attempt at rising and swayed as he got to his feet. This was so not good. As if in agreement, his stomach rumbled. He needed food. Maybe it would make him feel better.
On unsteady feet, he dragged himself to the kitchenette, every movement feeling like a mini-earthquake in his head. When he opened the cabinet above the sink, the sound of the old hinges grated behind this temples. His eyes scanned the contents, but except for an unopened bottle of hot sauce and a bottle of olive oil, there was nothing edible in it. The next cupboard proved no more fruitful.
Dio braced himself on the counter before he swung the fridge door open and peered inside. Virtual emptiness greeted him. It didn’t appear that he was much of a cook. All his fridge contained was a bottle of sparkling water.
His stomach growled. “Yeah, yeah!” What he didn’t give for a platter of olives, feta cheese and other delectable finger foods right now.
With a curse, he slammed the fridge door shut, making it rattle against the cabinets. He turned, ready to hit the shower so he could head out and find some food, when he stopped cold in his tracks.
Shit!
Right there on the counter top that had been empty only moments earlier stood a plate full with all the items he’d just imagined. He inhaled. The stuff
Dio shook his head and ordered another drink. What she demanded from him was unacceptable. Deep down he knew that he wasn’t the kind of man who would have agreed to her conditions in the first place. Only a pussy-whipped wimp would. And he didn’t think he belonged to that vile species. He might have lost his memory, but he knew how he felt.
He desired Ariadne, he ached to touch her and bury himself in her to the hilt, but he wasn’t an idiot who’d allow a woman to push him around like that, not even one he loved.
There had to be another reason why she didn’t want to sleep with him, because her claim that it was his drinking that held her back was too unbelievable. Hell, she owned a wine shop! She of all people should understand his love of wine, and appreciate that, as far as he could tell, he was not a drunk. No, she was mad at him for something else, and for Hades’ sake, he’d get behind it.
Hades’ sake? Where on Olympus did he come up with these strange expressions?
He kicked the next glass back just like the first and kept ordering. Closing time came too early for his liking, but maybe it was just as well. He stumbled back to his pad, his legs almost giving out underneath him as he walked up the stairs. He made it as far as the living room.
The last thing he saw were a bunch of flowers on the kitchen counter. He’d bought them for Ariadne, wanting to surprise her but had never had the chance to give them to her.
Maybe it was better that way. There was no need to give her any more reason to believe he was a besotted idiot who would give into everything she demanded.
His head spun, the alcohol in his blood finally catching up with him. He collapsed face down on the couch and passed out.
***
Something made his eye twitch. Still barely awake, Dio eased one eye open and was met with a bright ray of sunshine. “Helius, I hate you right now,” he mumbled under his breath.
A moment later he shot up from his prone position. What kind of stupid garbage was he spouting? Who the fuck was Helius? A thought came and went just as fast, but didn’t stick. Could he be a chemistry teacher? Maybe he’d meant helium, but why?
Dio looked at himself and noticed his rumpled clothes. Great! He’d slept in them, evidence that he’d been too out of it last night to think clearly. As he attempted to rise, his body protested. Shit, his head hurt! Maybe the last drink had been one too many after all. He was the first to admit that. However, the other glasses before that had been fine.
He made another attempt at rising and swayed as he got to his feet. This was so not good. As if in agreement, his stomach rumbled. He needed food. Maybe it would make him feel better.
On unsteady feet, he dragged himself to the kitchenette, every movement feeling like a mini-earthquake in his head. When he opened the cabinet above the sink, the sound of the old hinges grated behind this temples. His eyes scanned the contents, but except for an unopened bottle of hot sauce and a bottle of olive oil, there was nothing edible in it. The next cupboard proved no more fruitful.
Dio braced himself on the counter before he swung the fridge door open and peered inside. Virtual emptiness greeted him. It didn’t appear that he was much of a cook. All his fridge contained was a bottle of sparkling water.
His stomach growled. “Yeah, yeah!” What he didn’t give for a platter of olives, feta cheese and other delectable finger foods right now.
With a curse, he slammed the fridge door shut, making it rattle against the cabinets. He turned, ready to hit the shower so he could head out and find some food, when he stopped cold in his tracks.
Shit!
Right there on the counter top that had been empty only moments earlier stood a plate full with all the items he’d just imagined. He inhaled. The stuff
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