Page 128 of These Wicked Hearts

“You’re really good.”

“I’m okay. I’m fast, and that quickness has won me more games than strength or skill have. I don’t mind. It makes this place feel a little more special. I have a neighbor down the way, an elderly woman who keeps an eye on the place for me. I also stay here when I play New Jersey and the teams in the city.

“Are you tired?”

“Sort of. I guess I’m just sad more than anything. I’ve had a good time.”

I nod, looking away.

“What about you?”

I feel like there’s more meaning to that question, but I choose to answer it obviously. “I’ve had a good time here. Thank you for inviting me.”

Atlas smiles softly, looking at the floor. “Do you want to take a bath with me?”

My fingers scratch through his hair as he sits between my legs, his full weight pressed against me. “You’re crushing me.”

“You like it.” His head is lying on my chest, his eyes closed while I massage his scalp. He’s right. I do like it. I love his body. Not just the sight of it, but the feel of it. I love the warmth of it. The solid weight of him. I love it when he’s wrapped around me, even when he’s snoring in his sleep. I love the way his hands always seem to find my waist even if he’s just passing by me. It’s like he’s helpless to touch me.

I look down at him and almost think he’s asleep. I know he’s probably exhausted from the drive. A thought hits me so fast.

I’m going to miss him when this ends. Like, really miss him. It’s going to hurt without him. I still have another night, though.

“Are you excited to get back to practice?”

“I’m not missing it like I thought I would.” He blinks his eyes open and looks up at me. “I’ve had a good distraction.”

I smile, kissing his head. I know Jim has been calling me nonstop. The only thing keeping him from hiring a private investigator to find me is probably Chen. He knows what I’m doing. Or at least part of it.

We need to start preparing our next album, but I hate to admit the truth.

I don’t want to.

Music used to be my escape, but all the joy has gone from it. The money’s nice, but I can’t help feeling like I need more. There has to be more than this. I don’t give a fuck about status.

If I did, we wouldn’t be anonymous.

My fingers run across his chest, over the name there. “Can I ask about her?” Atlas never talks about it or what happened. I want to be delicate, but I want him to talk to me.

He’s quiet for a moment as I run my thumb along his pec, waiting for him to speak. Atlas then cups my hand on his chest, holding it in place over the tattoo, and I feel his heartbeat pick up a little under my palm. I don’t want to push him. I know there’s a darkness that swallows him up. Maybe if he tells me about it, it’ll brighten the edges a bit.

He’s quiet for a moment, and I think for a second. “You know I was in foster care,” I say quietly. He looks up at me and nods. “My parents died in a car accident when I was really young. I barely remember what it was like to be their son. We had no other family, so I became a ward of the state.”

“Was your foster home bad?”

“No.” I smile softly. “Not bad, it just was, I guess. They weren’t bad people. There were a lot of kids like me there. That’s where I met my bandmates.” At any given time, there were about eight to ten foster kids in that home. Even with the best intentions, that’s a lot of attention to spread around. That was okay, though, because I found my family with Chen, Jesper, and Declan.

“I’m really sorry.” He rubs my arm.

I kiss the side of his head. “Talk to me, Atlas.”

“Our house was so lonely most of the time, then my mom had Penn. It was like she was my best friend, even if she was years younger.”

His thumb begins to smooth over my hand. I feel his heart racing beneath my fingertips.

“My mom was the best and worst mom ever.”

“What do you mean?” I press my lips to the side of his head.