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“I gotta go.” He abruptly stands.
“Brennon!” I snap my laptop closed and drop it onto the couch next to me. “What do you know?” I demand, pushing to my feet.
He makes it to the door before answering me. Tugging it open, he turns.
“Just hear him out, okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
When he disappears into the hallway, leaving the door wide open, I’m about to go after him, but before I can move, Atlas takes his place in the doorway, his gaze finding mine and holding it for a long moment.
“Atlas.” I don’t mean to say his name but it falls from my lips, leaving my body on a hushed breath.
“Hey, B.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him.
I’m so angry. So, so angry. But damn it if the sight of him doesn’t light my insides on fire. No matter how mad I am, nothing can overshadow how good it feels to lay eyes on him after what feels like a lifetime.
I never thought I’d see the day when time away from Atlas Keaton would feel like torture. But that’s exactly what these last few days have been, complete and utter torture.
“Good to see you’re alive.” I cross my arms in front of myself.
“You’re angry,” he observes. “Brennon told me to prepare to have a few choice objects thrown at my head. Should I find something to shield myself with?” A trace of a smile touches his lips and I’m not sure which urge is stronger – to slap the smile off his mouth or to kiss it off.
“You’ve spoken to my brother?” I ask, though I know the two of them well enough to not be surprised. Of course they’ve spoken, and of course, Brennon didn’t tell me. Because why? Because it wasn’t any of my business. Their friendship is completely separate from me and Atlas, and whatever the hell it is that we are.
“I had to. I had to talk to him before I could talk to you.” He steps further into the room.
“Why? What did you talk about?” The sneer in my voice is strong. Just because he’s here doesn’t mean I’m going to fall at his feet. He broke my heart before he left, and leaving only solidified the fracture.
“You.”
“Why?” I try to hold onto the façade that I’m not completely falling apart that he’s here. I’d like to hold onto a shred of my dignity if I could.
“We had some things to work out.”
“And did you work them out?” I drop my arms, knotting my hands in front of me.
He nods slowly, taking another step and then another until only the width of the coffee table separates us.
“I’m sorry.” His next words break my hard exterior in one swing, tears instantly filling my eyes. “I’m sorry for not being brave enough to tell you how I really felt that night on the porch. And I’m sorry for every single thing I’ve done since then. I could lie and make up some excuse that would make me sound more macho, but I refuse to do that with you. Because you, Barlow, you see me. You always have. And you deserve to know my truth.”
“And what truth is that?” My voice cracks in the middle, my entire body trembling with nerves.
“That I’m in love with you.”
I swear my heart kicks against my ribs so hard I expect to look down and find it lying on the floor in front of me.
“I love you, Barlow.”
He loves me?
Atlas Keaton loves me?
Wait...
What?
I have to resist the urge to pinch myself and make sure this isn’t some kind of a dream.
