Page 115 of Heat Lightning

His face crumpled at my words, like he was undeserving of such love and acceptance. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Max. There are so many things I should’ve told you. Things you need to know before you make a permanent decision.”

He began to tremble, and his words came faster and faster, like once he finally opened the tap it was impossible to close. “I need you to know that I wanted to tell you all of this during your heat, but I couldn’t find the right time. And when I realized how much I lo—” he gulped, “love you, and how much it would destroy me if you walked away, I got stuck.”

“Hey,” I interrupted, resting my hands on his chest. He was nearly hyperventilating, and I feared he’d pass out again. “Hey. Shh.”

My omega was howling at me to comfort him and to get as close as possible. Did it instinctively understand what he needed to heal?

I settled against him, careful of his shoulder, and pressed my forehead to his. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. We’re safe.”

He nuzzled into my hair and inhaled. In my mind, my omega purred in reply and wound around the bigger alpha. They intertwined so intricately they’d never be separated without tearing something vital.

My skin no longer stretched thin. The needling anxiety in the back of my head evaporated. Every muscle in my body sighed. He relaxed, too, gently gripping my waist.

As long as I was in Atlas’ arms, everything would be alright.

“Whatever you tell me, I’m not going anywhere,” I said. We’d work through it together. I’d never been more certain of anything in my life.

Atlas’ shoulders heaved in a deep breath. Then another. And another.

Finally, he began. “I watched you, Max.”

THIRTY-TWO

MAX

A crease formed between my eyebrows. Given the context of how we met, that wasn’t surprising. It was even a little thrilling, now that I knew he was never going to hurt me. “I know that already. You followed me when Gwen and I went shopping and again to the heat teacher’s office,” I said.

“No. Before that.”

I pulled back to look at him. “Atlas, I know you stalked me, too, back when you were hunting Joey. You broke into my apartment to talk to me. Twice. It makes sense that you were watching beforehand. I really don’t understand why⁠—”

He cleared his throat. “More than twice.”

I paused, breath caught. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I broke into your home more than the two times you know of.” His words were slow, as if carefully stepping around a landmine.

Blinking, I opened and closed my mouth. More than the times I knew of? He’d been there before? When? How had I not known? Did he mean while I worked for Mr. Marino, or… before before?

That familiar, syrupy pulse of desire mixed with something dark and velvety crept up my spine. After realizing Atlas would never hurt me, I thought it had disappeared. I thought I was glad it had disappeared.

So why did it feel so delicious all over again?

I smoothed a thumb over the furrow in his brow. “I think you should start from the beginning, and tell me everything.”

His eyes squeezed shut, and he nodded. “Will you turn around so I can hold you?”

Atlas seemed to find it easier to first share these big emotional moments without looking at me. There was something in that to dig deeper on, something to do with the mask and a fear of being truly known, but I’d think more on it later.

For now, I was just grateful he was sharing himself with me at all.

I turned in his lap and leaned back against his chest, cradled between his legs. He wrapped his arms loosely around my middle, and rested his forehead against my nape.

His voice was quiet, but steady.

“The first life I took was my father’s, eight years ago. I was twenty-two years old. But to explain why, I need to start further back.”

I rested my hand on his and focused on the steady beat of his heart against my back.