Tragos sucked in a breath like Ares' words made a vacuum of his chest, and dropped his eyes to the floor. "Yes," he said, because there was no point denying it, and no excuses he could make. I wanted her he could say. I wanted her and it was stronger than any warning. He felt greedy and grasping and ambitious, when it came to Marcie. But not greedy and grasping and ambitious like Barak had been.
Unless they were. Maybe they were the same kind of stupid. Maybe stupid looked different from the inside.
His legs started jittering on the ground and he pressed his heel against the floor to stop it. "It's mutual, sir," he could say that, at least. He wasn't Apollo, wasn't Barak, wasn't one of those who'd tried to force himself on her.