“You’re not ready to go?”
Glancing at the clock, I see it’s just after ten. There’s no game tomorrow because of Halloween. The kids will all be hopped up on sugar, and Matt decided just to cancel it.
“No. I want my wish first.”
“Your wish? You’re not supposed to tell people what they are, or they won’t come true.”
Reaching for me, he runs his hands down my arms and grabs my hand, pulling me toward his booth. “When I was a kid, there was one foster parent who celebrated my birthday,” he explains. “She asked me what I wanted, any wish and she’d grant it. She was one of the nicer ones.” He pauses. “I wanted a remote-control car, nothing too big. A boy next door had one, and I wanted one too.”
“So, what happened?” I ask, afraid of the answer. My parents never celebrated my birthday after I turned nine, so they didn’t realize how old I was until I started working, and then they realized I was getting closer to eighteen and soon they’d be rid of me.
“She died. She was coming back from the store. She had bought a cake, and the remote-control car was wrapped in the vehicle. She was hit by a drunk driver and killed instantly.”
If my sharp inhale of breath surprises him, it doesn’t show. Good God. How has he suffered through so much?
“I heard the police talking to my case worker, and that’s when I knew I’d never celebrate my birthday again. If I hadn’t asked for anything, made any wishes, she never would have been out there.” He hangs his head.
“Atlas. It wasn’t your fault.”
“She wouldn’t have been out there if it wasn’t for me.”
“She could have been out running other errands, too, not just for you. And you weren’t the one who was driving drunk. That’s on him.” I pull his face to mine. Kissing his forehead, I remind him, “It’s okay to have wishes. To want things.”
“I do have wishes, and I do want things,” he whispers back.
“What did you wish for tonight?”
“You.”
Closing the distance, his lips find mine. Opening for him, I slide my tongue against his. It’s a soft kiss, but it still gives me the same feeling it always does.
Safe. Being with Atlas makes me feel warm and safe. I feel the affection he pours into the kiss, and when he grabs me and slides me into his lap, I go willingly. Settling across his legs, I lean further into him, threading my hands into his hair. I love how freely he lets me touch him.
He groans, and I take a moment to slide my lips to his neck, as I kiss along his skin, and taste his neck. He took his hoodie off while we were cleaning up and is now just wearing a dark tee. Atlas pulls back from my reach to search my eyes.
“I wished for you, Cora. I know I shouldn’t, I can’t afford to lose you, but I wished for you, and for your trust.” He presses his forehead to mine.
“I do trust you, Atlas.”
“How much do you trust me?” he asks softly.
“Without question,” I respond, knowing it’s the truth. As I say it, I know it feels right. Atlas may be a lot of things, but a liar he is not.
“Good, take off your dress.”
“What?” I ask him, confused.
“I want my wish, Firefly.”
“And your wish is for me to take my dress off?” I question as I pull it over my head, leaving me in my bra, tights, and panties. I’m hoping my panties are going next because I’m so wet, I have no doubt he can feel it through his denim. Standing with me in his lap, Atlas sets me down on my feet and walks to a cabinet, pulling out a sheet.
Coming back with it, he stands in front of me and tilts my chin up. “You still trust me?”
Nodding, I confirm, “Yes.”
“Good.”
“What’s this for?”
