“What is this, then?” he asks, voice deadly quiet.
I know better than to lie to him, so I don’t go withnothingthis time. Instead, I turn my cheek away and sigh.
“I just… ran into some trouble.”
“Ran into some trouble,” Atticus mimics. “That isveryvague.”
His fingers grip my chin lightly, turning me back to face him, but I can’t meet his eyes. Not when I look so pathetic.
“Yeah. I had a fight. But it’s over now, and I just didn’t want to… to be alone.” Admitting it is embarrassing, but if I lie, it’ll only upset him.
Atticus doesn’t deserve to be lied to, anyway.
He sighs. “You’re not going to give me a name, are you?”
I shake my head as well as I can in his grasp, still avoiding those piercing hazel eyes.
“Alright,” he concedes. Then, his fingertips brush over the sore spot on my cheek, and he doesn’t pull back as I wince softly. “But I won’t let you wallow all alone tonight.”
“I wasn’t wallowing,” I mutter, and as I finally meet his gaze, his eyes have softened.
“Liar,” he murmurs, still gently grazing over my skin with his fingers.
“So… then what should we do?” I ask, looking around the darkening street. “We can’t, uh… we can’t go to my house. And Checker’s might get angry if we’re not ordering.”
I’m not hungry, and I’m broke. The last time we went Cassie was going to pay, only for Atticus to step in. I don’t really want him to spend more money on me, treating me as a charity case.
“You’ll come with me,” Atticus says confidently, like it’s the only option available.
“T-to Chastain Castle?” I gasp, staring up at him in shock.
Other than delivery men and their personal help, I don’t think very many people havegoneto Chastain Castle. They’re very private people.
“Ah, no,” Atticus answers awkwardly. “We have a little house in town. It’s vacant right now, but the staff keeps it up to par. We can hang out there for the night.”
Oh. Of course they have two houses; why wouldn’t they? And why was I dumb enough to think I was so special as to go back to his actual house, where his family is?
“Okay,” I whisper.
Something I can’t understand passes through Atticus’s eyes, but it makes his expression softer, and he leans down to kiss me gently on the forehead, brushing my hair back.
“Come on, Cam,” he says quietly. “Let’s go.”
The house is nice. It’s not big and flashy the way I expected it to be, a simple two-bedroom with a beautiful kitchen and large living room.
As Atticus guides me inside, I toe my boots off at the door, suddenly self-conscious as I realize I’m still in my uniform.
It’s nothing crazy, just jeans and a maroon half-button-up with a flimsy collar.Orford Auto Repairis printed on the right breast.
But I’m covered in motor oil and most likely smell of sweat, so I’m embarrassed nonetheless.
“Would it be alright if I shower? I’ll put these clothes back on; I just want to wash away the dirt.” As I ask, Atticus is turning the living room TV on.
His eyes find mine, then they slowly drag down my body as he takes me in fully for the first time. He begins to grin.
“Covered in oil?” he questions, his tone teasing.
I roll my eyes, my sock-covered feet padding over to where he stands. “Yes, so I’d like to shower.”
