Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Atlas chuckles, presses his lips to the top of my head.
“You played well tonight,” I murmur, tracing lazy circles over his ribs.
He huffs a laugh, chest rumbling under my cheek. “Missed an open shot in the second.”
“You still won.”
“Yeah.” A beat of silence, then softer, “But the best part was walking into this house. Knowing you and Grayce were here.”
My throat tightens, and tears threaten. His tone… it’s so sure. A confidence in his beliefs, and the need to have me hear them. The words are exactly what I’ve always wanted to hear, exactly what I’ve always feared believing.
“Atlas—”
He shifts, rolling enough that I have to look at him. His eyes, shadowed in the dim light, are steady. There’s no hesitation in him, never has been. He’s been the one who has been sure about everything.
“I love you, Maddie.” My breath catches, the world tilting precariously. “I don’t know how it happened, or even when, but I feel it, and I wanted you to know.”
“Oh,” I murmur, and I can’t tell if that’s shock or disappointment. I only know it doesn’t feel right.
Atlas presses on. “And I don’t mean I love you just in the way you care for Grayce. Not just because you’re holding this family together. I mean you. I want a relationship with you, for real. Not just co-parents. I want us to be a family.”
It should be joy ready to burst forth. This should be the fulfillment of every secret wish I’ve buried since I was a kid shuffling foster homes with a trash bag of clothes.
Instead, panic slams through me.
I go still. My heartbeat skitters, too fast, too fragile. He’s offering me the one thing I want most, and I only feel the walls rising.
Forever doesn’t stick. Not for me. Not ever.
The impenetrable belief that I will ultimately be abandoned causes nausea to rise. I’ve experienced that type of pain—over and over again—and I don’t want it ever again.
“You don’t love me,” I say bluntly. “You love what I do for Grayce. You love that I make it easier. You love fucking me. But you don’t love me.”
Atlas flinches, but he doesn’t argue. He merely reaffirms, “I. Love. You.”
I love you too, but I’ll never admit it. That’s going too far out on a limb, and I know it will crack.
“Atlas,” I say, trying to will some measure of calm into my voice. “I don’t have the ability to give you what you want in return. Surely you know that. I’m far too broken by my past to ever be secure in a relationship. I’ll abandon you before you can abandon me, and so I’m going to do us both a favor and ask this to stop.”
Silence presses in, thick as the dark. He exhales, slow and heavy, the sound of a man reining himself in.
“Okay.” His voice is quiet, steady, but it sounds like his soul is bleeding.
He leans in just enough to brush a kiss to my temple—gentle, reverent, devastating—and then rolls away. The mattress lifts, the warmth of him leaving with it. He gathers his clothes and silently walks out without looking back.
The room feels cavernous without him, and I curl on my side, feeling like my heart has been broken.
He offered me forever and I turned him away. Any pain I’m feeling right now is solely my doing, but at least I won’t hurt him worse down the road.
CHAPTER 27
Atlas
The hotel room feels like a cage. The bed’s too stiff, the air too stale, and my brain won’t turn off. Dinner with the guys was hours ago, and now it’s just me and the ceiling.
Every time I close my eyes, Maddie’s voice is there. I don’t have the ability to give you what you want.
My chest burns with it, equal parts anger and despair.
I need to get out of here. Get some fresh air.
I lace up sneakers and tug a hoodie over my head. It’s one Grayce liberated the pull string from and it makes me miss her desperately.
Downtown Detroit is quiet this time of night. A neon diner sign buzzes across the street, casting red light over empty sidewalks. The arena’s only a block away from our hotel and the cool bite of early spring cuts through it.
Tucking my hands in the pockets of the hoodie, I hunch my shoulders and press into a determined walk. My posture would advertise to anyone observant enough not to approach me. Not that anyone would. It’s close to midnight and although this area of downtown is fairly safe, the streets of Campus Martius are dead.
I’ve gone maybe half a block when I hear the rhythmic slap of shoes behind me. I glance back, ready to brush off some late-night stranger, and nearly choke.
It’s Kace.
Sweatshirt dark with perspiration, earbuds tucked into his ears, legs eating up pavement. He slows when he sees me, eyes rounding with the same surprise.