“Not a lot,” he answered gruffly. “But some.”
“That sounds like there’s a story there.”
In the blink of an eye, Atlas’s entire demeanor shifted. His body tensed up, the muscle in his jaw ticking. I’d clearly hit a nerve, though I had no idea why.
“Never mind. That’s a story you don’t want to tell.” I tried to keep my voice light and airy, but I had no idea if I succeeded.
Mostly because it felt like this bubble we’d been in all night—the one where I’d glimpsed what a real relationship with him could look like—was losing air, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
Needing something to do, I gathered the makeup I’d left strewn across the counter and stuffed it back into my bag, avoiding Atlas’s gaze.
“Trouble.”
Still pretending to beoh-so busy, I answered without glancing at him. “Hmm?”
He stepped up behind me and stilled my hands with his. Our gazes met in the mirror, and the turmoil reflected in his eyes nearly knocked me off-balance.
“Mitch has been with me since my twenties,” Atlas said. “I’ve used him for typical pro footballer bullshit. Checking out anybody suspicious. Basic, boring stuff.”
Which absolutely did not explain the haunted look in his eyes.
“That’s not much of a story.”
“No,” he agreed. “But the reason I started using him in the first place is.”
Trying to bring some levity to the situation, I said, “Is there a baby mama out there you haven’t told me about? Or maybe someone pretending to be a long-lost relative to cash in? Or a?—”
“I hired him to look into my dad.”
Those words landed like a cement block, so much gravity in them I knew they meant more than just what was on the surface.
After spending hours at his mom’s house, I hadn’t seen photos or heard even the mention of a father, so I’d been curious. I’d been tempted to ask Atlas about it, but Laurel had been in the car, and I figured that was probably something better done with just the two of us. And considering his reaction, I’d been right.
I turned around, resting my hand on his chest, and looked up at him. This strong, steady man whom I’d never seen so much as a crack in, but who now looked like he was about to break wide open. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. You don’t have to tell me anything.”
“I want to,” he said, his voice low and rough.
“Okay.” I sat on the counter, hooking my legs around him and pulling him as close as he could get. “As much or as little as you want.”
He stared down at me, his mouth pressed in a thin line as if he was fortifying his resolve to share. After taking a deep breath, he said, “I had a wild childhood. Spent my first fourteen years all over the world while my dad and his band toured. When Iwent into high school, everything changed. Don’t know how or why, but we moved to Starlight Cove. My parents were both from here, and my mom’s always loved it.”
“And your dad?” I asked, sensing he needed the prompting.
Atlas shrugged. “He made it work. Bought the bar. Tried to do the typical dad things he’d never done before. But he still left for weeks at a time. He’d fly to LA to get his fix of the lifestyle he missed. Then, a couple of years after I was drafted, his band went on a reunion tour.”
My stomach twisted, the uncertainty of what came next weighing heavily on me, and I couldn’t help but anticipate the worst. There had been an accident—a plane crash, maybe—or he’d had a heart attack on stage. Something devastating and permanent that would take him away from his family. Make it difficult for them to even speak about him.
“He went on the three-month reunion tour across the country,” Atlas said. “And then he just…never came back.”
I gasped, unable to hide my shock. Though I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. I knew better than most just how shitty some parents could be. But knowing what I did of Atlas and his brothers…of their mom? I couldn’t imagine someone leaving them behind.
I wanted to tell him exactly that, but I knew the second I interrupted him, he’d stop. Clam up and put an end to this sharing session. And I wanted to know all I could about this man I’d grown to care for so deeply…so unexpectedly.
So, instead, I sat quietly, my hands resting on his hips. My silent reassurance that I was here for him.
“Three months turned into six months. Then a year…then two. That was when I’d had enough. I hired Mitch to find out what the hell was going on. My dad went no-contact. Just fucking disappeared. We didn’t know if he was dead or alive. My mom was trying to hold it together, but I could see how it waswearing on her. And I wanted to fix it. Instead, I just fucked it up more.”
“No, Atlas,” I said, unable to bite my tongue. “I’m sure you didn’t make anything worse.”
