Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Atlas rolls his chair over next to mine and takes a seat, stretching out his long legs. He’s close enough that I can see the flecks of light in his eyes that match the gray in his hair.
“Everything could change with one phone call or one headline, and I can’t do a damn thing about it,” I say.
“Lack of control can be harder on some people than danger,” he says.
Maybe I shouldn’t be venting my frustrations to a person who’s doing everything they can to help me, but now that I’ve started, it’s hard to stop.
“I used to think I was good at adapting,” I say. “Maybe I was just good at letting someone else decide what was best for me.”
His tone is calm, but small muscles in his face tighten. “Do you think that’s what you’re doing now?”
There’s no accusation in his voice. It’s refreshing that he’s asking instead of telling me how I should feel. “No,” I say. “No, this is different, and that’s why it seems complicated.”
His eyes meet mine, unguarded. “Talk to me.”
I let out a long breath while I choose my words carefully. I don’t have anything to hide, but I don’t want to be reckless.
“I let Preston make my world smaller. Bit by bit. I didn’t even notice, but I wasn’t myself when I was with him. Being here with the three of you has changed how I think about a lot of things. About safety. About attraction …”
I change positions in my chair, and the blanket slips. Atlas reaches out to adjust it.
“I don’t know exactly how I feel yet, though, and I don’t want to pretend I do.”
As he’s settling the blanket around my shoulders, his fingers brush against my collarbone, and the air between us comes alive, the same way it does before a storm breaks.
CHAPTER 22
KIRA
“I’m scared,” I tell him. “Of him, but also of what happens in the future.”
Atlas fixes the blanket, tucking it in around my legs. When he speaks, his voice is rough but tender. “You’re allowed to be scared. It means you’re human.” After a beat of silence, he says, “I’m afraid of wanting things again.”
I touch his thigh, then pull my hand back. “You’re allowed to want things,” I whisper.
He gives me a wry smile. “Tell that to my better judgment.”
“Your better judgment got you stuck in your ops room with me asking questions.”
His head tips back, and he laughs. Full and hearty, unlike any I’ve heard from him before. Eventually, his eyes meet mine, and his expression turns serious again.
I’m not planning to lean in. I don’t think he is, either. It just … happens.
His chair angles closer. My knee presses against his.
His breath hitches as he grips the arm of his chair like he’s holding himself back. “Kira, we don’t have to—”
“If anything happens between us, it’s because I want it, not because I think you’re expecting it.”
What’s left of the space between us closes. He lifts a hand, pausing less than an inch from my cheek, giving me time to change my mind, but I lean closer.
He cups my face in his warm palm, his thumb brushing my skin. I close my eyes and savor his touch, melting into him. His lips press gently to mine like an invitation, and when he kisses me a second time, a quiet sound slips from my throat.
I reach for his shoulder and rest my hand on the soft flannel there as his mouth moves against mine with growing confidence.
Careful of my body, he slides a hand around my waist and anchors me. He keeps his other hand at my cheek, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment.
I kiss him back fully, surrendering to the undeniable pull. I’m not being fooled or controlled this time. I’m choosing this.
The kiss deepens, and my pulse races, reminding me I’m alive and wanted, and capable of wanting in return.
I could lose myself in this, and that would be my choice, too.
A low alarm sounds before the latch on the door down the hall clicks. Grizz and Viper are back.
Atlas and I break apart, both of us breathing a little heavier. He rests his forehead briefly against mine, then pulls away. Without rushing, we settle back into our original positions.
“We’re back,” Grizz calls out. His voice echoes around the room. “Do you need—oh.”
He stops short, his eyes darting between me and Atlas, who gets to his feet. Whatever Grizz sees, it causes him to lift an eyebrow. “Everything good here?”
“All good,” Atlas says. “You?”
Grizz studies us a few seconds longer. “Fence line’s good.”
Viper comes in next, his gaze sweeping the room. If Grizz has an idea we kissed, Viper probably knows how long and exactly what preceded it. He looks away, pointedly uninterested.
As the three of them move around the room, I find myself admiring Grizz’s solid presence and Viper’s quiet intensity. Atlas is the anchor in the middle of it all, protective without being possessive.