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Eric
I watch Atlas leave, unable to keep the smile from my face. This will sting like hell come tomorrow morning. For right now, I can still smell her perfume on my skin, still taste her lips against mine, still remember the noise she made when I put my cock deep inside her tight body.
I turn toward my hotel room when I catch a flash of movement. My heart sinks as I lift my gaze. Standing at the opposite end of the hall is Michael.
He looks like one pissed off bull and I’m the dumb ass matador.
I head back into the room, leaving the door open behind me as I change into my button-down shirt.
Michael charges in and surveys the place, taking in the rumpled bed sheets. “You son of a bitch.”
I don’t bother ducking the punch. I never have, not even when my foster father would get drunk.
“How long ago did this start?” He massages his knuckles and eyes me like he’s considering a second punch. “Did you get off on this, Eric? Sitting across from me in meetings knowing that you were fucking my daughter?”
“I love her,” I say, tasting the blood from my split lip. The words won’t make a damn bit of difference. But I still say them out loud since I’ll never say them to Atlas.
He shakes his head. “I thought you were my friend. This is not what a friend does, asshole.”
“It was a shitty move and I’m a dick. Do you think I’m happy, Michael? Do you think I wanted to feel the way I do about your daughter? Do you think I haven’t been walking around every day for two years, hating myself?”
His nostrils flare. “You’re done. Don’t bother coming into work tomorrow. Don’t reach out to me and you sure as hell better avoid Atlas.”
I nod, having expected this. There was no possibility I was ever going to be with Atlas for real. It’s better this way.
8
ATLAS
I survey the ballroom, watching for Eric’s tall figure. I want to see him one more time before the night is over.
As the minutes pass, it becomes obvious that he isn’t returning. I check my phone but there are no new messages from him, only a churning in my gut.
My dad finally enters the masquerade, and even though we’re separated by a crowd of people, I can feel the rage coming off of him in waves.
There’s just one thing I can think of that would leave him this angry. He found out about me and Eric.
My phone vibrates and Eric’s number flashes across the screen. My heart beats fast as I duck from the room into a quiet alcove.
I don’t bother with a greeting. “He knows, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
I sink into one of the two yellow armchairs in the alcove as the full weight of what I’ve done finally hits me. I’ve destroyed their friendship and broken my own heart. “What did he say?”
He ignores the question. “Change of plans. I’m leaving for New York tonight.”
“Wait, there’s still so much I need to say,” I plead. “Let me meet up with you.”
“Don’t make this a painful goodbye. We had a great time tonight. Leave it at that.” His tone is so cold and distant, like he’s already a thousand miles away from me.
“It can’t end like this. We’ve both wanted this for so long and you said I was the best night of your life.” I kick off my shoes and curl up in the chair, hoping if I make myself small enough the heartache won’t feel as big.
He’s silent, the only sound is his breathing.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”
