“Don’t you dare talk about Noah…ever.” Now I’m pissed. Atlas doesn’t know he’s my brother, but I don’t like his tone.
“Oh, is he your main guy then?”
“Yeah. Actually, he is.”
I don’t owe him an explanation, but I’ll be damned if he treats me like this. I’m fuming as we turn onto my street, and as he gets closer to my house, I count the seconds until I can get out of this car. He’s stupid if he thinks I’m letting him take me to my car tomorrow. I’ll call Mila or get her dad to come.
“Do they all know?” he asks.
“Do they all know what?” I force out in frustration.
“That you’re out with me! That you and I have something,” he spits out.
“Excuse me?” I ask, staring at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Is one person not enough? Why did I thinkIwould be enough?” He shakes his head, pulling into my driveway.
I stare at the house that Noah and I have worked so damn hard to call home. The house I was only able to really afford because my grandmother hated my parents so much, she left us with them andtried to buy my forgiveness when she died. He doesn’t know shit about me, and I’m not going to enlighten him when he thinks he’s got it all figured out.
Making a mental note to look for a new job in the morning, I spare a glance at him and find his eyes locked on me.
I shake my head sadly as I look at him. “I don’t know what happened to you, but let me tell you something, Atlas.” Pointing my finger at him, I let him have it. “You’re exhausting because I never know where I stand with you, and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit anymore. You’re not the man I thought you were or could be. Iama good person, but you prefer to see the worst in people, and no matter how good-looking you might be, or how beautifully you tattoo, you have uglyinsides,” I explain angrily, my voice rising. “You’reexhaustingbecause I spend too much time thinking about you, and I can’t figure outwhyI bother.”
Opening the door of the car, I take a deep breath. The cool air does little to dampen my temper. I don’t think I’m a violent person, but right now I could punch him.
Maybe I’m more like my parents than I thought.
No.Shaking that thought out of my head, I know I’m not really like them.
Not bothering to look back and watch him leave, I let myself into the house and turn the lights on. The living room feels empty without Noah’s shoes on the floor or his sports bag strewn all over, but it’s okay. He’ll be home tomorrow. Noah is the only guy I need. I was dumb to think there could be another side to Atlas. The level of disappointment I feel is surprising.
Tossing my keys on the table, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. God, that arrogant asshole. Taking a deep breath, I tell myself it’s time to look for something different tomorrow. Maybe I can get more hours at the library, or just not work right now. It’s not like I have to, but I want to make sure Noah has money set aside for when he’s older. I wonder if Mr. Morgan wants help at the garage again.
Shutting off the kitchen light, I take mywater and go to head upstairs. Nothing sounds better than crawling into the shower and curling up in bed. I nearly shriek when banging at the door stops me.
“Cora. It’s me,” Atlas shouts from the other side.
Standing quietly in my spot, I refuse to move. Maybe if I wait a few minutes, he’ll get tired and leave.
“I’m not leaving. Open the door.”Damn it.
“Give me one good reason,” I shout, walking toward the door. I don’t have it in me to fight him anymore.
Sighing in resignation when I’m met with silence, I unlock the door and fling it open to see Atlas standing on my front porch, head down. As soon as the sound of the door opening registers, his head snaps up, and he looks straight at me. His dark hair is messier than it was in the car, and when he takes a step toward me, I don’t move.
“Well?” I huff out, staring at him, as he stares at me. “Why are you here? What’s your problem now?”
“You are,” he responds, right before his lips crash onto mine.
Chapter Twenty-One
Atlas
She’s so fucking mouthy, but I like it. I love that she’s not afraid to yell at me and call me out when I’m being an asshole, which I know I was. There’s no good excuse for how I behaved at the game, besides jealousy. We had fun until Mr. Hockey passed off his puck and number to her. It still heats my blood when I think about it, but I push all those thoughts out of my head.
Shoving my car door open, I head up to her porch, prepared to wait as long as it takes. If Cora thinks we’re done, she’s dead fucking wrong. We’re just getting started.
I don’t care who she’s talking to, I’m going to prove I’m the only man she needs. Theonlyman she’s going to have. I’ll get rid of anyone who stands in my way.
