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“Okay, now I’m really fucking curious. Spill.”
“Honestly, because of who you are and what you look like,” I blurt.
He draws back, clearly not the answer that he was expecting to hear.
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“You won’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me.”
I let out a slow, heavy breath, cursing myself for saying anything to begin with. Someone should do me a favor and glue my fucking mouth shut already. Everyone would be better off, especially me.
“You said it yourself. You’re the epitome of the kind of man a woman should only want sex from. Which, in turn, means they want so much more.”
“Now you’ve really lost me.”
“It’s like the thrill of a chase for the man. Men love to chase after what they can’t have. Well, women love to tame men that otherwise can’t be tamed. To be the woman he gives up his womanizing ways for. To be the one person able to capture more than just his body. To be the girl who wins his heart.”
A blush sweeps my cheeks, mortified that without Atlas even knowing, I just stated the reason behind why I hate him so much. Because before I hated him, I loved him. Or at least, I thought I did. I was thirteen at the time, so really, what did I know about love? But then I got older and I watched him go through girl after girl, never once looking at me the way he looked at them. Eventually wanting him turned to despising him, and now it feels like it’s always been this way.
I play it off like I never liked him a day in my life. Like he’s been the bane of my existence from the day he came home with my brother the first time. But in reality, there’s so much more to it than that. Like most things, there are complexities to our relationship that I don’t think anyone, including me or Atlas, fully understand. And it’s very rare that I admit any of this, even to myself.
Between the stress of college, being so far away from home, and missing my parents, to fighting with Atlas, to this crap with Travis, I’m too tired to hold the façade in place. Lying to myself doesn’t do me any good, anyway. It’s not like the truth changes one single thing, because it doesn’t.
Because I still hate Atlas. I hate how smug he is. I hate that he thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread, and I hate how he looks down at me like I’ll never be worthy of being in the same room as him. But more than anything, I hate how much I don’t hate him at all.
A solid minute passes and neither of us has spoken. It’s like he’s not sure how to process what I just said. Whether he doesn’t get it, or he’s surprised to hear me say it, I’m not sure, but either way, I’m growing more fidgety by the second.
“I wonder,” he says after what feels like forever, his blue eyes locked on mine in a way that makes me feel weirdly calm, yet like I’m about to crawl out of my own skin at the same time. “Which do you want more, B... My heart. Or my cock?” He drops his head back on a laugh.
And just like that... The moment is over.
“And you wonder why I can’t fucking stand you.” I abruptly push to my feet.
“Oh come on, Barlow. I was just kidding,” he calls after me as I head down the hallway, making it into the bathroom before he catches up to me, wedging his foot in the door so I can’t close it.
“What the fuck, Atlas.” I rip the door back open, trying to kick his foot out of the way.
Instead of moving his foot, he takes a full step inside the bathroom, forcing me to take a step back.
“Why is it you can’t take a joke to save your life?”
“Why is it you can’t be serious to save your life?” I counter.
“Where’s the fun in that?” He smirks.
“Would you please get out? I really need to take a shower and I don’t have the energy to fight with you.”
“I didn’t realize we were fighting.” He steps further into the room, backing me to the point where I either hold my stance or go tumbling backward into the bathtub.
Before I can react, he snakes an arm around my middle and tugs me flush with his body. I swear to god, it feels like someone just doused me in boiling hot water. Heat starts at my head and quickly spreads all the way to the tips of my toes.
His face is close. So close I can smell the minty scent of his gum and the musk of his cologne. The combination is dizzying.
I can’t think. Can’t speak. Hell, at this point I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
“I know what I want for my silence.” His warm breath slides across my face. “And for saving your ass today.”
