Page 49 of Untamed

Ares doesn’t look at me. Well, not directly anyway.

But I feel him everywhere, like gravity, quiet and crushing.

I force myself to keep my focus on my plate, on my hands, on anything that isn’t the man sitting so close I can feel the warmth radiating off him.

Across from me, Matteo’s grinning as he steals another bite from Bianca’s plate, completely at ease.

He doesn’t suspect a thing.

Not the way I stiffened when Ares sat down. Not the heat that’s blooming low in my stomach, confusing and messy and entirelywrong.

Not the way Ares finally speaks, voice cool and measured. “I almost didn’t,” he says.

I glance up. He’s not looking at me, not really, but his tone makes my skin prickle.

Ares leans back in his chair, fingers drumming slowly on the table, and finally takes a sip of his coffee after one of the staff sets it in front of him.

And just when I think the moment has passed and my stomach stops twisting with nerves, his leg shifts, this time deliberately. I stifle a gasp when his knee brushes mine again. And this time, he doesn’t pull away.

And neither do I.

She tenses the second I sit down.

Doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t breathe, not properly. It’s subtle, but I see it, feel it. Like a ripple in the air between us.

Good. I want her to be nervous. I like the taste of her unease.

I lean back in the chair, posture relaxed, arms crossed like I don’t give a damn. But every move I make is calculated. Precise. My knee brushes hers under the table, just once. Light. Barely there.

She freezes.

But she doesn’t move away.

Hm, interesting.

My eyes drift lazily across the table. Bianca is chattering about some dress she saw in a boutique yesterday. Enzo hums along with her, half-listening, while Luciano grumbles into his espresso. Then there’s Matteo. Sitting across from her like he’s got the whole world wrapped around his finger. Smiling. Grinning. Flirting.

Matteo’s too smug this morning, too casual, like he didn’t spend the night before making a mess of something that doesn’t belong to him.

I wish I hadn’t, but I saw Jordyn in the pool last night...with him. They thought she got away and no one noticed. But I did. I didn’t need details, I already knew exactly where she was, who she was with.Whatthey were doing.

And yet… she’s sitting beside me like she’s afraid to even breathe.

Like I still get under her skin.

I tap my fingers against the table slowly, letting the tension settle between us. Her hand trembles slightly as she reaches for her cup. She’s trying to play it cool, but I know the signs. I know what guilt looks like. And I sure as hell know what want feels like.

That’s what this is.

The air between us is thick. Charged. One spark away from burning.

I lean in just slightly, dropping my voice low. “Are you always this quiet in the morning?”

She stiffens. A very small reaction, barely noticeable. But it’s there.

She turns her head, finally meeting my eyes, and fuck me if that doesn’t hit somewhere deep in my chest.

Those eyes.

---