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“I was going to be on the Olympic team for figure skating,” I murmured, catching his rapt attention. His brown eyes were focused, and I craved the tingling sensation that came with being the center of his attention. “My coach had put everything in me. I was his chance at fame, and he’d told me I could achieve greatness. Probably could have, too.” I huffed. “Then Dad fucked it up. He left Mom for another woman. I really don’t know how it happened. I thought they were fine. One minute he was there, the next he was packing his crap and telling me he was leaving. I asked when he would be back, and he had the fucking audacity to tell me his new girl had young kids and she didn’t want a teenager around, so he couldn’t see me again.”
Atlas’s eyes burned with anger and he gritted his teeth. The reaction knocked down a dam inside me. I could feel the rest of the story getting ready to burst out of me.
“So, I lost control after that. My training discipline went out the window. I started drinking and partying and fucking around. My coach warned me to get my act together, but I couldn’t, you know? I was lost and needed someone to guide me, and he didn’t understand.”
My hand curled into a fist and I leaned my head back against the pillow.
Atlas listened intently, and it was weird, but I liked knowing he was trying to understand. The hotheaded man I knew wasn’t judging me.
“The Olympic team didn’t take me when I messed up a routine, and my coach dropped me for another new hopeful. After that, I was looking for something to help with the anger. One day while I was skating, a local hockey coach saw me. He knew everything that had happened and asked me to join the team, and I did. I fucking loved it, and I was good at it, and it cured something in me. I was finally able to use my anger at my dad for something worthwhile.”
“Your dad is an idiot.”
I laughed, despite how terrible I felt and how much my knee ached. “Guess we have that in common. At least yours stuck around.”
“Is that much better?” Atlas snorted. “You’ve met my dad. He’s a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, he is.” I grinned.
Mom walked inside, eyeing us carefully. She cleared her throat. “The doctor thinks it’s only been aggravated and there’s no more damage than there already was. He wants us to put an ice pack on it when we get home and for you to rest. He suggested that you don’t go anywhere for the next few days.”
“A few days in bed?” I groaned. “Mom, I stayed in bed when I got out after the surgery.”
“And you can do it again.” She slapped her hands on her hips. “Wystan, I love you, but you are giving me gray hairs.”
My grin widened and I glanced up at her dyed brown hair. She regularly went to the hairdresser, otherwise she would be gray already.
“Be glad it wasn’t more serious.” She pursed her mouth at me. “The doctor has given his orders. He also suggested that Dr. Lunberg come over once a day and do exercises with you.”
“We can’t afford that, Mom,” I murmured. “Our insurance won’t cover that much physical therapy.”
“Dad will help pay for it,” Atlas said loudly, gaining our attention.
Mom shook her head immediately, a strand of hair slipping out of her hair tie. “Absolutely not. He’s done enough for us already.”
“It won’t hurt, and he wants Wy to get back on the team.” Atlas squeezed my hand, and I’d almost forgotten he was holding it.
Mom’s gaze dipped to our touch and a small smile flitted over her otherwise serious face. “I’ll talk to him about it. But I believe you need Dr. Lunberg’s help, Wystan, especially if you want to go back to hockey next year. You need to practice the exercises he gives you, too.”
I heaved a sigh. “I know.”
“Mm-hmm. Let me call Joseph and tell him what’s going on. He’s been calling since I left with the doctor.” She exited the room again, closing the door behind herself.
I fell against the bed, and without overthinking it, I raised Atlas’s hand to my mouth and kissed the back of his knuckles.
He blinked, clearly surprised. “What was that?”
“I can’t reach your mouth,” I whispered with a shy smile.
He leaned closer. Our lips met in a surprisingly soft kiss, and I melted into him.
“I know you hate me—”
“I don’t hate you,” he said.
“But I liked what we were doing. It is—was—fun.” We hadn’t fucked since I’d been injured because there was no way I’d been able to with the amount of pain I was in. We also hadn’t talked about being exclusive, so he was probably getting his rocks off with someone else while I’d been out of the game, literally and figuratively. The thought made my stomach burn with acid. “And we’re not in a relationship, and you can fuck who you want—”
“Shut up, Birdy,” Atlas snapped.
