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I held back.
Once I knew that he was mine, once I knew that he wouldn’t toss me aside, then I’d tell him the last.
But until then…
“I want to know,” he grumbled, rolling over onto his back, eyes facing the ceiling. “You need to tell me. Now.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I got up, dressed, and put on my shoes.
“You can boss me around in sexual situations,” I said as I pulled on my clothes. “But don’t think that extends to regular life, Atlas Eugene Carter.”
“Douglas,” he corrected.
“Douglas what?” I wondered absently as I reached for my shoes.
“My middle name. It’s Douglas. Not Eugene.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled. “You can keep the car. I borrowed it from Maven this morning because my car’s back in the shop with some more sliced tires. Can you give me a ride to the hotel, or should I call a cab?”
“If you give me a couple of hours to catch some sleep, I can drop you off on my way to the hospital,” he offered.
That absolutely wouldn’t work.
I was not spending the night with the man and giving him any sort of impression that I liked him, let alone wanted to spend more time with him.
Let’s not mention the fact that I did like him and did want to spend all the time with him that he would allow me to.
I pulled out my phone and texted Maven.
Me:
Hey, do you mind if I stay in the apartment above the bakery for the night?
Maven answered instantly.
Maven:
Of course you can. You can stay there permanently, you know that.
She had offered, but there was no way I’d take her up on it.
Being that close to him was a bad idea.
Right?
Ain’t no man driving me crazy. I’m the driver now. Buckle up.
—Pepper to Atlas
ATLAS
It’d been a week, but he was finally able to come home.
His new home.
My home.
