Page 73 of These Wicked Hearts

“Uh, yeah, sure. I uh—” I hear my phone buzz in my bag, and when I see the number, I smile. “Sorry, one second.” I swipe and see three missed calls. All from Gage. Fuck. I answer and smile. “You’re a little obsessed with me. It’s a bit smothering if I’m being honest,” I say softly.

“I’ve called you like three times, seriously, why weren’t you paying attention?!”

“What are you talking about?” And then understanding hits me. “Holy shit. You watched my game!”

“Atlas—”

“You fucking like me.”

“Fuck off⁠—”

“This is a little bit much, okay. I am a bird. You have to let me fly. I can’t be tied down.”

I hear him growl something. “I was just curious. It was interesting when I went with Vanessa.”

“Uh-huh. Were you impressed? I’m very attractive in my gear.”

“Better looking when you don’t eat ice.”

“Excuse me, I didn’t fucking eat ice.”

“You kind of did,” Knox laughs.

“Fuck you both.”

“Seriously, are you okay?”

A small smile springs to my lips. “I’m okay, all cleared. Just hit hard and fast. No damage. So, how impressed were you? Did they zoom in on my ass during my face-offs? That’s all mine, you know. No padding.”

“You’re an idiot.” Knox laughs, peeling out of the parking lot.

“Where are you now?” he asks.

“I’m going out with a friend.”

“Going out?”

“Yeah. A couple of guys are meeting up at another player’s house. Why, what are you doing besides touching yourself to my game?” I say softly.

“I wasn’t jerking off!” he bites back. “I’m glad you’re okay. As idiotic as ever.”

“Hey, I’m alright. Really.” I look over at Knox. “I’ll talk to you when I get back from their house, okay? If you’ll be up?”

He waits a long moment. “I’ll be up.”

SIXTEEN

Atlas

I’m not good in crowds, and I’m even worse in situations where I don’t know people. My chest tightens until every breath feels shallow. It’s like my brain starts spinning itself, trying to think of things to say to fill the silence.

At my core I’m not very interesting. Not particularly funny either.

“Bank it, Layton.”

A couple of guys crowd around the pool table down in Theo’s finished basement, shoulder checking each other as if they’re playing a game of hockey and not pool. The sharp crack of the pool balls colliding echoes in the space down here.

Theo’s house sits high on one of the hills just outside town. The kind of place with huge windows and expensive woodwork that somehow feels lived in instead of staged for a magazine. A lot like Oli’s house.