Aphrodite Needs an Alibi (Aphrodite Needs a Clue Book 1)

by Regan Claire

  “Um, I don’t know, let me check.”

  I stand back up and watch as Jenny pulls up the center cushion. Sure enough, there is the handle to pull out the bed. Rhys and I both grab one of the two remaining cushions, and Rhys pulls the bed out so I can see if it’s all in order.

  It’s perfect. The mattress still has the little plastic film wrapped around it, so the bed portion is like new! I’m trying not to get too excited about it. “How much is it?” I ask, hoping I have enough.

  “All the couches are an even $120 today,” Jenny says with a smile on her face.

  “Really?” I bounce from excitement. I’m getting a couch! “I’ll take it! Where can I pay?”

  “The register is over this way, but it’s raining pretty hard right now. Maybe you should look around for about twelve to fourteen minutes. It should let up by then so you can get the couch in Rhys’s truck without getting it wet.”

  What an oddly specific amount of time. Rhys doesn’t seem to think anything of it, because he’s walking out of this giant couch room towards another section of the store. We browse around. The place is much larger than it looked from the outside, and there’s a weird smell permeating most of it. Like a sort of incense or something, not altogether unpleasant, just more and more noticeable. I can’t make sense of how the store is organized, either. There’s a shelf full of bowls, and that has a logic to it, but some of them look old, made of tarnished silver and faded designs and so big you could fit a bowling ball inside, and on the same shelf is a pink flowery plastic bowl that looks like it was picked up at the Dollar Tree.

  “Some of this stuff is really nice. Where do they get their stock?”

  Rhys looks at me. “Mostly as gifts. Pythia has been collecting for her entire life.”

  “Gifts? All of these are gifts?” I look around. This store is a hoarder’s delight, and they’re all gifts?

  “I guess you can call some of it bartered goods, or trade-ins.”

  “That only barely makes more sense,” I mumble under my breath. Why does my life feel like it’s getting stranger than it was, and that’s saying something.

  We get to a shelf full of corded things. I know that’s how they’re organized, because each electronic is backwards on the shelf and the cords are hanging down off the shelf, longest to shortest. In between a can opener and a hair dryer is a t.v., maybe a 32-inch.

  “Do you see a price on this? I miss t.v.”

  “No, but we can go ask if you want.”

  I shouldn’t even consider buying anything else right now. I’m dirt poor and the extra eighty dollars left over after buying the couch can put food in my fridge. “Go ahead and grab it before I change my mind. Maybe I’ll be lucky and it’ll be cheap.” On second thought, I have enough change in my car to buy a week’s worth of Ramen.

  He laughs, but does as I ask. Then he leads me to the front of the store where Pythia is waiting at the register. Jenny is nowhere to be seen. Rhys puts the flat screen on the counter, where Pythia pulls out a tape measure and starts measuring the cord.

  “What is she doing?”

  “It looks like she’s measuring the cord to the t.v.”

  “I can see that. Why?”

  She scribbles on a receipt book and hands me the bill. It reads:

  Hidden folding bed: $120

  60 inches of Zeus rope: $60

  Total Bill: $180

  I’m confused for a moment because there’s no way that screen is sixty inches, but then I see how she has labeled it, and remember that all the electronics were lined up by length of the cord.

  “The television is priced by the inch…of the cord?” I lean over and whisper to Rhys.

  “Don’t complain. That’s a good deal. The thing looks brand new,” he says back, and he’s right. I’ll stop judging her pricing methods since it currently benefits me.

  Though, a dollar an inch…I’d hate to see what she charges for a vacuum cleaner.

  It has stopped raining by the time we make it to the door, and Jenny reappears in time to help Rhys and me carry the bed to his truck. Well, they carried; I just directed. Rhys is smart and brought a couple of tarps—one for the bed of the truck and one to secure on top with a few bungee cords just in case it starts to rain again.

  We arrive at my place without incident or rain. Somehow, I forgot that I live up a flight of stairs until we’re about to pull the couch out of the truck. It looks heavy, and I haven’t done much heavy lifting. I paid a neighbor to carry my recliner upstairs, because I could barely budge the thing.

  Rhys seems unfazed. “I’ll pull the couch out. You just grab it when it’s about to clear the back of the truck so it doesn’t fall. Then we’ll rotate so you walk up first. All the weight will be on me, and you’ll just need to make sure the couch clears the stairs, okay?”

  “If you say so. Let me know if you need a break.”

  Rhys raises an eyebrow at me before he starts pulling. Then I lift my end of the couch, expecting it to weigh a ton since it has a bed inside. It doesn’t. “No wonder that old lady could move this thing by herself. It’s so light. I wonder what it’s made of!” I easily walk backwards up the stairs. In fact, I think I could tackle Rhys’s side if I wanted. Maybe the couch is actually junk and that’s why it’s so easy to lift. It would suck if I got ripped off, but beggars can’t be choosers. It only needs to last long enough for me to get a few paychecks under my belt. A few minutes later and the couch is in my apartment, and Rhys didn’t have to yell “pivot” a single time.

  Rhys is back down grabbing the TV, so I arrange my new couch against the wall next to the door, eyeballing a spot on the wall to put the tv once I get a stand for it, or even a wall mount. I guess it’ll just sit on the floor for now, but with the couch and the chair in this room, it feels a lot more like an actual lived-in apartment. I grab my woven fleecy blanket off the recliner and fold it nicely, then hang it off the back of the couch. I finally have a couch for my couch blanket!

  I am beyond happy about my new purchase, and when Rhys walks in holding the tv, I’m certain I squeal a little. My face hurts from grinning so widely. He’s also carrying a fabric laptop bag.

  “I thought we could break in the tv with a movie. I’ll order pizza, my treat.”

  “I don’t have a DVD player or anything, and I don’t think I’ll get any channels yet.” I think I have to call and order a thingie to get the free channels.

  He lifts up his bag. “I got you covered.”

  Two sides are warring with each other. On one hand, I would love to sit on my own couch and watch anything on my own tv and, to top it off, eat something I didn’t buy in the freezer section. The other side thinks Rhys is way too tempting, and delicious, for him to be around me too long. It’s strange that he doesn’t seem to be enthralled by me, even though I have sucked his face—and lusty heart emotions. Maybe he’s, like, vaccinated against me or something.

  My stomach growls when I think about ooey-gooey cheesy pizza, and my decision is made.

  “You sure you have whatever you need to hook up the TV? You promised a movie and I expect one,” I say with a lighthearted tone. I’m excited. He sets up the TV as we talk, though it is kinda weird with it just being on the floor.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I have a WiFi dongle, and you just bought a smart TV.”

  That means Netflix. Oh sweet biscuits, I can watch Netflix again? At least for one night.

  “What are you waiting for?” I kick off my shoes, one of them flying halfway across the room, and go sit on my couch.

  He laughs, a deep throaty thing, then plugs in his dongle. I resist the urge to make a dirty joke, because, well, I really do have a place he can plug his “dongle,” and it’s not a joke if a part of you wants to be taken seriously.

  Rhys looks around like he’s searching for something, then he goes to my chair and scoots it over to the TV before picking the set up and placing it on my chair. It’s now at the perfect height to watch.

  “That’s good enoug
h, right?” he asks.

  “Yup. Now that I have a couch for my bed, I guess the chair can be downgraded to a TV-stand.”

  He grabs the remote, which was taped to the back of the set, and sits down next to me. There’s a whole big couch, and he sits close enough that our legs are touching. Instantly, I’m hungry, and not just for pizza. I’ve accidentally fed from Rhys twice now, and not just little snacks. At least one of them was substantial enough to make me feel a little power-buzzed afterwards. I shouldn’t be wanting more right now, but I do. I don’t feel out of control with hunger, like I do when I let myself go too long without snacking. I don’t feel weak, or shaky, and I don’t have a headache, which are my usual signs of needing to eat. I still feel great, better than great actually. No, I’m only suddenly ravenous because he’s so tasty.

  I can muster the willpower not to feast, so long as we keep our lips off of each other. I look sideways at him while he signs into his account, wondering if he plans to kiss me again, and why I kinda want him to even, though I know it’s a bad idea. He’s an enigma. Like, sometimes he acts like he can’t keep his hands off of me, and then others he acts like he hasn’t stuck his tongue down my throat.

  Rhys looks over at me, totally catching me staring at him. There’s mirth in his eyes, as if he knows what I’m thinking about, then they move down to my mouth and there’s something else in them that I can’t name. He hands me the remote.

  “You pick out something while I order the pizza. Pepperoni okay with you?”

  I nod, glad the little moment has passed without lip-locking. Then I go about picking a show.

  My eyes are glued to the television, and by the time Rhys puts down his phone after ordering, the opening credits for the brand-new original are playing. We don’t talk much after that, just binge watch. We’re on the second episode when the pizza comes, and we both seem content to continue watching, and make the occasional remark about what we think will happen next. Somehow, we wind up full-on snuggled up under my couch blanket. Between Rhys’s warmth, and a belly full of carbs, it’s no surprise I doze off.

  Needs to Remember

  Will I ever get used to living this way? The chiton I’m wearing feels constricting, the room suffocating. I’m surrounded by strangers, in a world bound by rules I don’t understand and a family whose hearts seem empty to me. The only comfort is in the warmth coming from my right. Eros, my friend, is here with me.

  “It will all be okay. Remember, this isn’t permanent. We won’t let it be forever.”

  He’s right, but it still hurts to hear. My eyes sweep the giant space, the painted marble that surrounds us completely devoid of warmth despite the cheerful colors. In the center, a place of honor, is a giant golden throne. Hera’s gift from an unwanted son is irresistibly beautiful. Even knowing that it will trap whoever sits in it, I can’t help but admire the craftsmanship. It’s truly a beautiful trap. I look away. Its creation was my doom.

  I miss the sea, the rolling waves of it, and the freedom I had there. They tell me I’m not meant to be free, that the love I give and receive is too dangerous a thing to wander where it will. So they seek to chain me, like Hera to her chair.

  My eyes meet Ares’ across the room. Against his father’s wishes, he came. I can feel his love from here, and can see the fire in his eyes. If I ask him, he’ll fight for me. For us. I try to speak to him with my eyes, and hope he can read my love there for him, and my caution. He cannot win in a fight here, not against this powerful and tyrannical group. I shake my head, and I see the hurt in his face before he looks away. If only there were a place on this earth we could run to and be free.

  You need friends or allies to accomplish something like that, and Eros is my only friend here.

  The hall hushes, and the royal couple walks in. I don’t understand why they rule, or how. Zeus’s gaze sweeps past me, making my skin crawl. What is happening is punishment for turning down his advances. I know it; everyone here knows it, except perhaps Hera, whose eyes hold an anger that terrifies me. I don’t completely blame her, though she is as much at fault for what has happened as her husband. Her son had good reason to seek revenge on her. I believe that a mother’s love should be more important than a husband’s jealousy, and after all, understanding love is what I do. Still, for Zeus to reward Hephaistos for his clever chair shows a certain cruelty towards his wife, who suffered for days on end before being released.

  Her son released her only because they offered a reward too great for him to ignore.

  I fight back tears, and Eros reaches over to take my hand again. I must have courage, but this is wrong! Why does Athena, or Artemis not see this as wrong? They don’t know the full scope of the love I offer, so they don’t understand what it means to try and control it. They don’t know how this will reverberate among the people we protect. I look towards the other women to see if any will stand up for me.

  No one will meet my gaze.

  There he is, the bridegroom, come to claim me as his reward. I take a deep, steady breath, let go of Eros’s hand, and walk towards the blacksmith, unsure of how I will heal from the pain in my heart.

  Needs a Day Off

  I wake up disoriented, still half dreaming. Rhys is here, or is he Ares? No, that was a dream. My face is smooshed against his chest, and there’s a wet spot on his shirt where I must have drooled. One of my arms has crept under his shirt and is wrapped around him.

  Oh my goodness, we slept together.

  What’s worse is that my essence is tangled up with his as surely as my legs are. I’ve been hooked into him for goodness knows how long through the night. This is so bad. This has never happened before. I’ve never lost control while I slept.

  Although actually sleeping when I sleep with someone isn’t usually on the agenda.

  Rhys starts to wake up. He probably felt my body go stiff from my internal freak-out.

  How do I extract myself from him? My tendrils are deep, and they don’t wanna budge. The more I try, the more they sink in. What if I can’t pull away? Just relax, April. Freaking out won’t help. Rhys stretches, then holds me tighter for a quick second. The feeling almost makes me want to purr. Then he kisses my forehead and sits up.

  “I think we fell asleep.”

  “Ya think?” I say. Somehow, between the kiss on the forehead and his sitting up, my tendrils have crept back inside me where they belong. I feel like a million bucks, maybe a billion, but cheese and rice, what if I’ve turned Rhys into some slobbering obsessive? It doesn’t matter how hot a guy is, drooling is never attractive.

  He looks at me, and I notice his hair is disheveled, but in a sexy rock star way. Does this man ever look less than amazing? An image from my dream flashes before my eyes. Yeah, he’d even look good in a chiton.

  “You almost look back to normal,” he says, as if he knows what my normal is.

  “What?”

  “You just look like you slept well. Maybe I should make a habit of sleeping over.” His smile is cocky this time, and my worry is lessened.

  “You wish. It was the couch. It’s magic. We didn’t even pull out the bed and I still slept better than I have in forever.”

  “I still say it was me.”

  “Ha ha.” Maybe it was him, but I’m not gonna say that out loud.

  I stand up and make my way to the bathroom. After I take care of nature’s call, I splash some water on my face and think. Why does Rhys seem so normal despite using my powers on him. Maybe I have gotten weaker because I haven’t been using them so much? A blossom of hope blooms in my chest. Maybe I’m becoming normal! Then I remember what happened with Mick a couple of nights ago and the hope dies. No, I’m not any different. Rhys is.

  I leave the bathroom and find Rhys rummaging in my fridge. He straightens when I stand next to the kitchen doorway.

  “I was going to make you something for breakfast, but you don’t have any food,” he says, almost frowning at me.

  “I do too.”

  “Frozen burrito
s aren’t food.”

  Probably not. “Let’s agree to disagree.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “If you say so. I would ask if you want to go grab some breakfast, but I don’t have the time this morning. I have a busy day of posting bozos out of jail.” He holds up his phone. “It must have been a busy night, I had four missed calls this morning.”

  “Was your phone on vibrate? I can’t believe we slept through four calls.”

  “I put it on Do Not Disturb after the pizza came.” He puts said device in his pocket. “I figured there were better things to pay attention to.”

  He did? That was thoughtful. I don’t know what to say, and I’m honestly a little overwhelmed with how relationship-ey this feels.

  “I’d like to spend time with you again sometime soon,” he tells me, before coming in for a quick kiss that still manages to leave my knees weak.

  Don’t agree, April. It’s a bad idea! “I think that’ll be okay,” I say instead. I’m starting to second guess my reasons for thinking that spending time with him is a bad idea. Because of the close contact I’ve had with him, he should be different, but he’s not; he’s acting the same as he did that first time we met. Another image floats through my head as I remember, something like the dream, of Eros handing him a spear and asking if he was strong enough for the weight. They were both looking at me when he asked it, and I remember my face lifting up in a smile.

  Where is this coming from? I understand a bit how Dorothy must have felt after dreaming of Oz.

  “April?” Rhys calls me back from the snippet of remembered dream.

  “Yeah?”

  “I said I have to go now, but I’ll text you later to make plans. Okay?”

  I nod my head, still preoccupied with my dream world. “Okay.”

  When he opens the door to leave, I notice that it’s barely dawn. Yikes, why do I feel so awake right now? I have the day off, which is great, but I have zero things to do, which is boring.