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Atlas scoots away from me, out of reach of my jacket. “That would be the second jacket I’ve wrecked and it costs more than-”
A mere look cuts off his words as I glare at him. He keeps bringing up money as if I want more than his attention. As if I’ll ridicule him for a stain or a mistake. It’s just clothing. Just money. Have I not made that clear in the last several months we’ve been together? “A coat can be replaced, Atlas.” I want to draw him into my chest and wrap my arms around him but I have a meeting I can’t miss in less than fifteen minutes. As much as I’d love to shower with my lover, this isn’t the time or place. He also isn’t in the right headspace to enjoy it.
“Sir-” Atlas begins and then bites his bottom lip.
I raise an eyebrow, chuckling. “Unless you want to start something, Atlas, I’d call me by name.”
“Mr. Pierce.”
There’s the cheekiness I was missing. “Atlas.”
“Sorry, Raphael, I’m just a little tired. I didn’t mean to bump into you.”
God, he’s so cute. “I know, little one. I know.” I push him toward the lounge and then toward the showers on the left. No one is in here this late as most of the employees use the gym and showers before their work day starts at 8 am. I point out the towels and the extra scrubs that I have supplied in the lounge for emergencies. “Hand me your clothes and I’ll have them dry-cleaned.”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head rapidly. “No, I can wash them later. It’s fine. Just, no.”
I’m not sure why he’s so adamantly refusing my help but I let him trudge into one of the showers as I wait a few feet away. Atlas will realize soon enough that he didn’t grab a towel or a change of clothes and will have to ask for help. I’m not that cruel, however, and I know that he’s suffered enough embarrassment for the whole day in just a few moments. Gathering what he needs, I place them on the small table just outside his shower. “Towel and change of clothes, Atlas. I’ll be right outside.”
“You don’t have to wait for me, Mr.—Raphael.”
“No, I don’t have to, do I?” I hope he understands that I’m not staying out of obligation. If that were the case, I would demand the dry cleaning bill for the spot of coffee that landed on my shoulder.
Chapter 5
ATLAS
Escaping into the shower stall doesn’t rid me of the absolute horror replaying in my head. Even the warm water cascading down my back, a shower I most definitely need for more reasons than just one, isn’t enough to take away the shame and embarrassment of running into Raphael. He’s always been so sweet and loving. There’s never been any indication that he would fire me but that’s just where my mind goes. I haven’t been dealt a lot of nice hands in this world except for Heather so Raphael is a welcome surprise.
I take a quick shower and grab the towel Raphael left for me. Ten minutes later, I’m creeping out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of black scrubs with my coffee-soaked clothes in a bag pressed to my chest. Raphael resting on the lounge isn’t surprising but I wish he hadn’t waited. People are going to start talking about favoritism and I can barely handle Gerald calling me lover boy.
Raphael stands and approaches me, his gaze walking over every inch of my body that he can see until heat blooms in the pit of my belly. “You going to be okay?” One of his hands moves to caress my left cheek and I lean into the touch, nodding. “I don’t believe that. Something is going on with you but I need to run. I just wanted to see you before I did. Tonight?” When I don’t say anything, Raphael presses a kiss to my forehead. “I don’t want to push you, Atlas but I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
The few whispers from my coworkers earlier remind me of how much I hate the disparaging differences between Raphael and me. I wish the world would just readily accept us but one look at my social status and they’ll just assume I’m here for his money. After all, with a snap of his fingers, Raphael could take away all of my troubles.
The thing is, I don’t want that.
I want to get there on my own, no matter what it takes.
I also don’t want Raphael to see that side of me.
He never had to struggle to get to his position. He says the money and clothes don’t matter but I’ve seen him throw money at a problem without thinking twice. Heather needed a machine repaired in the café? A new one appeared later that day. Tables looking a little rough around the edges? A new vibe in the café in the next week. Money solves things. For him.
For me? Too much of it cheapens my hard work. And I don’t know how to let Raphael know without angering him.
“I don’t need help,” I finally say, my words barely above a whisper. Can’t we just go back to the light touches and the care lingering in his eyes? “It’s just finals week and I-”
Raphael doesn’t wait for me to finish as he kisses the bridge of my nose and walks out the door. I blink several times, trying to understand what just happened. Raphael… just left me. That hurts worse than breaking up with me or forcing me to tell him what's going on in my head. If this is a sign of what I have to look forward to, I’ve got the message loud and clear. I frantically search for my phone to text him that I’m sorry when his message comes up first.
The dots wave on the screen for a little bit until a paragraph appears that breaks my heart.
You have become a light in my life, Atlas. Someone I look forward to in the mornings. But the way you curl into yourself? Those bags under your eyes? You won’t let me help you and I get wanting to do it all on your own. But how can I love you when you won’t trust me? How can we be together when every time the conversation deepens, you find a way to end it? Atlas, I want the next step. Whatever that may be with us but I can’t do that if you’re always running away. I apologize for leaving abruptly but I did not want to say something I would regret.
I frown. I’m not running away. But I am. I have been. I don’t want him to see the true Atlas, the one with the clunker of a car, and the one that has to sleep in a shelter because his life fell apart the moment his mother passed away. I want him to see the barista, the zoology major, the put-together college student who’s just a few classes away from graduation.
But that’s not fair to him or us.
I’m going to have to let him see me. Atlas.
