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“I’m sorry.” Atlas’ voice is so soft I barely hear it over the pounding of my own heart. “I’m sorry I can’t love you the way you need.”
Hurting Atlas is the last thing I ever want to do, and yet I find myself doing it again and again. Even when I’m trying to accept the distance he wants to put between us.
“Don’t be such a doof.” Emotion clogs up my throat, and I close my eyes to will it away. “I didn’t mean it, you know. The thing I said.”
“You’re hurting. I can handle a little lashing out, Loh.”
I’m not sure Blair sees it the same way. Not with how protective he seems to have become over my best friend. But I’m not about to drop to my knees begging my big brother for forgiveness. It’s not like I ripped into him like the demon under my skin wants me to.
It’s not his fault anymore than it is Atlas’. Doesn’t make it not hurt like a fucking bitch, though.
“You’ll come back, right?”
I finally crawl my way out of the comfort of the covers, the chilly afternoon erupting goosebumps along my skin.
Reminder: buy the twins a space heater or something before winter hits.
“I haven’t ditched you guys. Like I said, I just needed a breather. Escape for a bit, you know?”
“I know. And I’m sorry we didn’t talk to you about Corvin before just dumping it on you. Blair worked it out, and it wasn’t even set in stone until I agreed to move in—we weren’t trying to hurt you. We just…”
“Shut up, Huxley,” I say with a chuckle. “I’ll be there tonight. You can even come by and verify.”
“I trust you.”
Which is effectively his way of saying he’s already got plans—or maybe he’s more upset than he says he is. It’s hard to tell with Atlas. I used to think he wore his heart on his sleeve, but the whole affair with Blair made him harder to read.
Or maybe somewhere along the line I stopped paying attention.
“I’ve gotta go,” he says, and I hear his keys jangle down the line.
“A shift at The Creamery?”
“It’s like my second home.” The Jeep’s engine cranks in the receiver. “You should come by some time. I’ve been working on my brownie recipes.”
It’s hard to fight the smile that rises from his words. “Do I have to pay for them?”
Atty’s deep rumbled laughter. “Some of them. I can get you a few freebies.”
With that we say our hurried goodbyes because Atty has never been a fan of talking on the phone while driving. As close to a rule follower as they come.
That leaves me in the darkness of Valco’s bedroom, half naked and shivering. I know I need to get my shit together and face Corvin. The last three days have been a step outside reality, and the phone call with Atty pulled me back in with the door shutting firmly behind me.
When I wander into the living room a few minutes later, there’s a pile of my clothes sitting on the arm of the couch, topped with a light blue sweater that I know I didn’t come here with but won’t be turning down.
I wish I had something softer than jeans to throw on, but I’m grateful they’re clean and warm, so I step into them and stuff my old shirt and underwear into my bag. Neither of the twins are hanging around, so I duck into the kitchen with a growling stomach.
Surely they’ve got a bowl and a can of soup lying around.
After some digging, I manage to scrounge a dented can of steak and potato soup that is only mildly out of date and scrub out a bowl lying in the sink. I’m not sure where they went, but it’s not really any of my business, so I don’t bother them with a text. I do happen to notice an unopened message on my phone though.
Valco: Be safe. Feel free to crash at ours anytime. You don’t have to shack up with the sex cult if you need an out.P.S. Vee says to soak your cum clothes before tossing them on the floor.
I make sure to wash out my bowl and even clean up the few other dishes I find scattered around, then grab my backpack and head out of the apartment.
The hum of need that’s enraptured me the last few days has transformed into a chilly frost filling my sternum. The excitement and energy is no longer buzzing in my veins, replaced with lidocaine.
Like it or not, I made this bed, and I can either lie in it or die in it.
