He’s fucking chiseled to perfection, but boosting his ego is not on my to-do list.
Oh, no! Sorry! That text was meant for another chocolate bar thief. There’s a whole train of people breaking into my room and stealing my salted caramel bars, so this was for the handsome one, not for you. You’re absolutely hideous.
Atlas
You’re going to miss me.
I will.
This isn’t a confession, but he doesn’t know it yet.
Like a bullet to the stomach.
Atlas
Still mad at me for last night?
Furious!
Atlas
Good! Keep the fire burning for me.
He’s going to be so disillusioned by the fire awaiting him.
Atlas
If I start missing you too much, I’ll visit a loony bin to make me feel right back at home with you.
It’s so easy for him to make me smile. I wish that wasn’t the case. I don’t need things to get more complicated than they already are.
But what’s the work thing? Is he going to see Mason?
If that’s the case, it’s a missed opportunity. I should up my game. But I should probably start by taking a shower after choosing not to do that last night, holding onto his lingering scent as a keepsake.
Free of one thief’s scent but not of thoughts of him, I rummage through my clothes in search of a T-shirt with a duck waving its middle feather and the slogan “Duck it!” at the bottom, hoping it’llhelp get me on Raven’s good side.
I’m early enough to know she hasn’t left her room yet, especially on a Saturday morning. If Atlas is away, this means Link will be too, but I’m still cautious when I get there, opting to slip a note under her door.
10 p.m. Schenley Plaza Park. Bring the non-murderous attitude?
Setting the meeting in the evening is an extra precaution.
Note slipped, the rest of the day stretches ahead like a gift-wrapped opportunity. Time to turn Atlas’s empty house into my personal playground. I couldn’t snoop around his place the night of the party, but with him away, I can go through not only his friends’ rooms, but now there’s a bonus. I think I can check out the contents of his safe, too.
I don’t exactly need incriminating stuff on Mason. He’s too well-connected to ever land in jail. And that could never be a punishment enough for him. I need locations. Appointments. Something. Anything.
Not that I can get to him with such heavy security. Mason probably gets prostate exams with bodyguards at his side and a urologist’s hand knuckles-deep inside his ass. But I’m still hoping for another way of getting to him to present itself. One different from using Atlas and bulldozing his feelings.
An hour and a half later, I sneak out of Connor’s room with zero valuable intel, intent on getting a tetanus shot... or rabies... or whatever shot is available out there.
The front door downstairs opens, and I’m one heartbeat away from a heart attack.
What the fuck? Isn’t everyone with Atlas to wherever he went? Or are they back so soon?
No time for questions.
I sneak into Atlas’s room, finding a cozy spot inside his walk-in closet, hoping he isn’t the one downstairs.
