The sun had nearly set, and it took Hades a moment to realize he was in Lexi's bedroom, the bedroom she inhabited before she discovered she was a goddess and abandoned her life to be with him in the underworld. This thought made his head spin, but he suspected it was also due to the champagne he indulged in earlier that day. He ran his tongue over his teeth and decided a large dose of water was in order.
Rather than walk downstairs and face the onslaught of inquiries about his absence, he shuffled to Lexi's bathroom and drank his fill from the sink. Lingering in front of the mirror, he took stock of his appearance. That persistent cowlick was back. He wet his hair, forcing it down with his hand. A bottle of pain reliever sat on the counter, and he considered the necessity for a hangover remedy, but his head didn't hurt too badly. What he really needed was fresh air.
Opening the French doors, Hades stepped onto the balcony outside Lexi's room. He remembered it well. How he had serenaded her below it. How she had lowered the ladder to welcome him onto it. But, mostly, he remembered how she tasted when she had given herself to him. His skin bristled at the thought of their first tango, and he longed to hold her again. He already missed her.
He surveyed the rear of the estate on the chance she might be nearby. A walk along the beach with his enchanting goddess sounded like just the thing to sober him up. When he glimpsed the stable, he immediately thought of Jackie O. The odds of finding Lexi with her equine friend were very good. He climbed onto the balcony railing, preparing to jump off, when he noticed Clary walking the path toward the sea, which also led to the stable. She had always been fond of his horses. Maybe she was interested in visiting the Maxwell's herd. They were all handsome specimens.
Hades pondered his options as he crouched on the railing. If he opted for a trip to the stable, would he meet up with both Clary and Lexi? What kind of conversations might ensue? Would they discuss his habit of brooding, or his tendency to hoard the bed sheets? A plethora of disagreeable consequences and awkward scenarios came to mind. Perhaps, first, he should clear his head with a solo walk on the beach.
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