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"That is exactly how I pictured them," she admitted. "You're so talented. I was telling Rush that last night," she said, waving to the canvases.
"Oh, those. All trash. I told him not to hang them."
"You don't, ah, strike me as someone who is afflicted with false modesty," Katie said, brows furrowing as she looked at the —objectively really good—canvases, and back to the man who created them, and thought they were crap.
"I'm not," he said, smile devilish. "I made them like that because this schmuck is afraid of color. But those lose all the character of those places," he told her, waving at one in particular. "I mean... Santorini without the bright blue ocean? Ireland without the lush green? Loses all the character. What's your favorite place to visit?" he asked, always interested in where people had been, what they had loved about it, believing it gave them some kind of insight into who they were as a person.
"I, ah, you know... I don't really like traveling," Katie admitted. "I like being home. Reading books. Baking."
Atlas's brows furrowed at that, his eyes lacking understanding, truly unable to imagine not wanting to put a travel pin into every place in the world.
"I did really love the cabin, though," she admitted, smile wistful. "I would like to go back someday, maybe a little more prepared for the bad weather. Or not," she added, shooting me a smile, likely remembering having to share a bed to keep each other warm. "And Rush's idea of a road trip sounds nice too. I don't like crowds," she added, shrugging.
I was going to take her on the road trip someday. I wanted to bring her back to those woods too.
On the one hand, it felt soon to be thinking that far ahead. That said, though, it wasn't like we'd just met. We'd known each other almost as long as I have been in Navesink Bank. Then I knew her more deeply on the phone. Being locked in the woods with her had given me several weeks or months worth of "getting to know you" dates. On top of all of that, the sex was top fucking tier.
I mean, how much more did you need to know before you decided it was going somewhere? I didn't think anyone had the exact answer to that. Some people met and married within a week and were together for forty years, blissfully happy. Others dated for six years before settling down, and ended up divorced and bitter six months after that.
There was no standard.
I think, sometimes, you just had a good feeling, something inside clicked.
I'd never felt that click before.
But if I looked back, I could see little hints of it over months with Katie, only I didn't always know it was her. And a part of me was struggling with the insecurities regarding my past.
It had been different with Kingston and Savea since Savvy had been a part of the family's inner circle for a while thanks to Peyton. And I guess it had been different, too, with Nixon and Reagan since Nixon met Reagan while she was doing less-than-legal things in the name of revenge, so she understood where we were all coming from.
Katie was just a normal woman from a good upbringing with a normal moral compass.
She'd taken it like a champ.
And I guess she was right. It was a part of my past. It had been years. I'd been young and stupid at the time, clinging to my grief and anger instead of dealing with it.
Settling down, building a stronger family unit with the Mallicks had done a lot to ease the pain, to quell the anger.
It wasn't like I was at risk of becoming a wheel guy again, that I would get the itch for it. It had always been a mission. There had been a motivating factor. It had never been about the thrill or the money. Though, let's face it, sometimes the thrill was fun. But I was getting old for that shit now.
My idea of a thrill was learning we were getting a new Indian take-out place in a couple months.
Shit changed.
So did people.
And, I guess, Atlas was changing too.
"Atlas wants to know if you and I can crash at your place tonight," I told Katie back in my room a couple minutes later. "He's having an issue with his apartment. Needs a place to crash for a while. Knowing him, he'll surf over to someone else's couch soon enough, but for a night or two."
"It's okay if you need to spend time with your brother," she told me, gaze sliding away. "You don't have to spend tonight with me if—"
"I'm going to go ahead and cut you off right there," I said, watching as her head lifted. "I want to spend the night with you," I clarified. "And if you want to be here, that's fine. But I thought you might be more comfortable without Atlas hanging around."
