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I gave a dainty wave of my fingers. “Bye, Sutton.”
“Atlas, please,” Sutton choked out.
My nose wrinkled at his pitiful begging, and I rolled my eyes. What a wimp. “Let him go, Daddy. I think he’s got the point.”
Rowdy dropped him, and Sutton hit the ground before scrambling to his feet and scurrying to his car. Rowdy and I cracked up watching his bitch-ass run over the curb and a few trash cans trying to get away.
We went inside the house once my ex was long gone, and Rowdy followed me into the kitchen, where I unwrapped and heated the dinner I’d made for him from the little food my mom had in the house.
“Thanks, baby,” he said once I served him where he sat at the small table by the window.
I walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a glass and then the bottle of Hennessy from the stash my father kept before he died. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until late,” I asked as I poured him a glass.
“I’ve been parked outside for the last hour. I wanted to sneak up on your ass. I knew your ex would hear that you were back in town and come creeping around to see you sooner or later.”
I frowned at that. “You don’t trust me?”
“I trust you more than I trust myself. I just wanted a chance to catch his bitch-ass slipping.”
“Hmm. I saw the old pictures of him and me torn up in my bedroom. Did you have anything to do with that?”
Rowdy didn’t bother to look up from his food when he answered. “Of course.”
I shook my head and laughed but decided to let it go. Rowdy wouldn’t give a fuck how I felt about it, and Sutton’s bitch-ass wasn’t even worth the argument. “I was just about to head out and get some groceries.” Rowdy looked at me then, and I dropped my gaze to the floor and shrugged. “I…it’s just in case my mom wakes up soon. I want to have everything ready.”
Rowdy nodded. “That’s what’s up, and she will. You just got to keep faith, baby.”
I sucked in a breath. “Yeah.” I swallowed when it felt like my heart was in my throat. “Do you need anything from the store?”
Rowdy shook his head as he polished off the food he’d wolfed down and stood to clean his plate. “Need me to come with you?” he offered.
“No, I shouldn’t be long, and I’m sure you’re tired.”
“Like a motherfucker,” he admitted with a sigh.
“My bed is comfortable,” I offered.
“You fuck your ex on that mattress?” When I said nothing, he gave a dry chuckle. “I’m good on the couch.”
“We have a guest room,” I grumbled. “There are clean sheets on the bed and fresh towels in the closet if you want to shower.”
“Cool.”
With nothing left to say, I grabbed my mom’s car keys and headed for the garage. The store was only a ten-minute drive away, so I was there in no time. I hopped out, grabbed a cart, and started throwing random shit inside since I hadn’t made a list.
“Damn it,” I cursed when I reached the frozen food section and realized the store was out of my favorite ice cream. I stared through the glass door of the freezer contemplating another flavor.
“You should try the pistachio,” a voice over my shoulder suggested. “It will change your life.”
Immediately, I wrinkled my nose at that awful idea until I turned and saw the woman lingering behind me. She was dressed in her usual fashion—wide-legged dress pants, a frilly blouse, and heels. Since it was November, she’d paired it with a long trench coat and her natural hair pulled back in a bun.
“Professor Saunders? Oh, my gosh! Hi!” I said, rushing forward to hug her. She tensed, and I chalked it up to surprise before abandoning the idea and stepping back. Maybe I’d crossed some boundary I didn’t know existed between us. Oh well. “It’s good to see you. How are you?”
“I’m doing as well as I can. And you? I apologize if I’ve been distant lately. I’ve had a few troubles of my own.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Remembering Sutton’s hateful words, I felt a little guilty. It seemed that every time Professor Saunders and I talked, the subject had always been about me. I hadn’t intended it that way but she’d always been so curious, especially about my time in Idlewild. “You’ve been my center for so long that I’d be happy to return the favor if you want to talk about it.”
“You’re sweet, Atlas, but I think I’ll manage.”
