Page 59 of These Wicked Hearts

Atlas’s chest rises slowly with a deep breath. “Really tired. That’s all. Sorry. I mean, I can go if you want. I don’t think I’m in the mood to benefit you with my ass right now.”

I snort, shaking my head. I also wonder if that’s even true, or how much of it’s from the game or his friends’ words. Either way I don’t want him to leave.

I should, though, because why the hell did I let him in here if it wasn’t for sex? That’s all this is, right? I watch him for a moment then make a decision, not caring one bit if it’s a bad one.

Now the silence is nice. I’m not complaining. It’s just his whole demeanor that throws me off. I’m used to funny, loud, and obnoxious, but he seems sad, and I don’t like it one bit. More than that, I’m afraid to let him go home. I don’t think he’ll have alcohol back at his apartment, but I don’t want him to go searching for it.

I focus on what I can do for him and look through my cabinets trying to find something to throw together. I eat out a lot, especially during promotion and tours. There’s no point keeping anything perishable here when I’m never home. Still, there are a couple of things I always have on hand.

“You don’t have to make me anything.”

“I know.” I look back at him. “I want to.”

I find a can of black beans in the cabinet and take them out. Something easy. Something I’ve made a thousand times without a thought, but now I’m a little nervous. “Uh, how does black bean tacos sound?”

“I’ve never had them, but I’m not picky.”

“It’s just uh, I’m vegan. Everything I use is plant based.” Then I remember what his friend said at the bar. “No nuts, though, in anything. Promise.”

“Thanks. I’m not like severely allergic. I just get really bad hives, and it can really hurt my stomach. Sometimes it does make me sick, but my throat won’t close up or anything. I mean, unless I have a bad reaction. That happens sometimes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind either way.” After I drain and rinse the beans, I throw them in a pan than grab the corn tortillas out of the fridge and begin to heat them up. While I finish cooking, Atlas doesn’t say a word. The silence is starting to squeeze my lungs. I’m not used to having to fill it when he’s around.

I take out my plant-based cheese, reading the back just to be safe. Throat closing up or not, I don’t want to accidentally give him anything with peanuts. I make sure it’s safe then sprinkle some on the mixture, and in another pan, I heat it up to let the cheese melt. I open my fridge and find some salsa verde and pour a little in a ramekin.

“How many do you want?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Three?” I plate him four then slide it to him.

“Go ahead, eat.” A small reluctant smile flickers across his lips, and I stand on the opposite side of the island, taking one of mine while sneaking glances as he tries it. If he doesn’t like them, I wouldn’t know with how he devours them. I’m not even sure he’s tasting them. “Good?” I laugh.

“Really good. Wow.” I turn back to the stove and slide two more onto his plate. I’m not really that hungry myself. Silence settles in again, heavier this time, but I let him eat, a little slower now, watching the life come back into his eyes.

“So uh . . .” I watch him destroy the other two. “You want more?”

“Oh, no. Thank you. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

I take his plate away from him. “So uh, do you want to talk about it?”

“What?” His head picks up.

“Your friends. I’m not a mind reader, but even I could feel the tension and how bad you wanted to get out of there.”

Atlas stares down at his empty plate. “They mean well. Oli means well.”

I lean forward on my elbows, angling toward him. “Well, people can mean well all they want, but sometimes they can be a pain in the ass too.” That brings a soft smile to those beautiful lips. “Who is Grey?”

Atlas meets my eyes instantly and something in them hits me in the gut. I don’t know who that is, but I can tell he means something to this man. “I don’t want to talk about Grey.”

“Understood.” Although I’m interested, I let it go.

“Not because I don’t want to tell you,” he says. “I just hate thinking about it.”

We’re quiet for a long moment as I think of what to say next. It’s funny to think I’m sitting here with him, trying to fill the silence, when every time we’ve been together before I was desperately wanting it.

“The thing with Oli is, he sees a problem then he wants to fix it. He won’t stop until the problem’s fixed, but this thing with all of us can’t be fixed like that. I really messed up, Gage, and I don’t know how to see myself out of it.”

Atlas lets out a long breath, as if he’s been holding it all night.