Page 101 of Heat Lightning

Gwen sighed. “How about you wait twenty-four hours before making life-changing decisions, hmm? Come stay with me. I’m getting itchy just standing here.” She cast a look around as if the bed bugs were already crawling through the carpet toward us.

Actually, they probably were.

Even still. Things were too raw. “I need space, Gwen,” I said. “I need time to think.”

Sadness colored her features. She was puffy-eyed, too. “Alright. But can we please meet for lunch in a few hours? I want to explain things.”

My heart ached. I just wanted my friend back. I wanted to rewind the last few hours and stop the rift between us before it ever formed.

I wanted to stop a lot of things from falling into ruin, but I had no idea how.

I nodded. “Yeah. Lunch would be good.”

Just then, Gwen’s phone dinged with an incoming message. Then again. And again. And again. “Fucking hell, let me breathe,” she mumbled, checking it before furiously typing a reply.

Not above being nosey, I tried to peek but wasn’t able to read clearly with my old glasses prescription. “Who is that?”

Is it Atlas? Is he asking about me? Or worried? Please be worried about me. Wait, why do I care if it’s him? He doesn’t even want me. He hurt me⁠—

“Who do you think it is at this hour?” she asked with a deadpan look.

I bit my cheek, trying to ignore the pang of longing in my chest. “I have no idea.”

She rolled her eyes. “He wants to know if you’re okay.”

I huffed. “Not sure why he cares. Besides, why is he asking you and not me?”

Gwen shook her head before pocketing her phone. “I’m sure it’s because he knows you won't reply. And he cares, Max.”

“But—”

“Atlas doesn’t let himself need people,” she interrupted. The soft, gray light of dawn filtered in through the curtains behind her. “He doesn’t invite anyone into his life. Saint, Enzo, and I are the only ones he’s ever let matter, and we only made it in by default.” She paused. “And then he met you.”

My heart caught in my throat. The urge to go to him grew so overwhelming I had to squeeze my eyes shut. “Then why doesn’t he want me?” I whispered.

She reached out and squeezed my hand. “He does. I know he does. But that’s something you’re going to have to talk about with him.”

We said our goodbyes, with Gwen agreeing to pop in and check on Jeffrey since I’d left without feeding him his breakfast. I’d sort him out later, once I knew where I wanted to go.

Exhausted, I tumbled back onto the bed. I desperately needed to fall asleep and forget this horrible night had ever happened, but it seemed my omega hadn’t caught up with the reality of the rejected bond, because I tossed and turned for hours, sick with longing.

How could I get past this? Did I even want to? Did he?

My omega howled, long and mournful. Finally drifting off, I dreamed I was wrapped in a warm pair of arms that had always made me feel safe and wanted.

If only that were true.

TWENTY-EIGHT

MAX

Gwen and I decided to meet at the little twenty-four-seven diner not far from her house around noon.

Her neighborhood wasn’t nearly as fancy as Mr. Marino’s, but all the lawns were well-maintained with tall, mature trees lining the street. It was quaint and cozy in a way the giant shore mansions weren’t.

I groaned when I stepped out of my car into the midday sun. After a few hours of fitful sleep, my body was even more sore than usual after a heat—probably because of the marathon sex with an actual person instead of a heat aid—but that wasn’t what had me ready to climb out of my skin.

I missed Atlas.