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I laughed lightly. “The stairs are a lot.”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Maybe we can talk to Dad about getting a room down here set up until you’re feeling better.”
I shook my head. “No. Isak said the stairs are good exercise for my knee as long as I take it slowly.”
“Isak? You mean your physical therapist, Dr. Lunberg?”
I’d forgotten that Atlas hadn’t met Isak yet. He’d never been to a therapy session with me, and I had this weird sensation where I wanted him to come along. There were a lot of things I wanted Atlas to do with me now. I should be afraid about the idea, but he’d said he loved me last night, and that developed a whole new train of thought in my head. I liked him.A lot.Probably more than I should.
Maybe I loved him, too.
Inwardly, I snorted. Yeah, he was an asshole, but he wasmyasshole and I loved him—an unexpected but welcomed emotion. He made me feel things no one else had and drew out parts of me I didn’t know existed. He challenged me and pushed me, but also took care of me, and I liked to think I did the same for him.
“Yeah,” I finally said with a grin. “He’s hot, too. You should meet him.”
He rolled his eyes, smirking. “Not as hot as me, right?”
I laughed with a shrug. “Eh, debatable.”
“Hey!” He poked me in the side, and I wriggled away from him, my laughter growing louder.
We walked into the dining room for the breakfast spread Mom had prepared. Joseph was there, too, and we talked about small things—hockey, school, and Joseph’s job—before Atlas announced we were done and he was taking me somewhere.
Mom winked at me as Atlas dragged me to my feet, carefully, and guided me out toward the garage. This time, we didn’t take the Bentley Continental, but rather another one of his father’s regular cars, a large Ford SUV that gave me plenty of room when he opened the door and helped me slide in. The seat was pushed all the way back, making sure I could fit my legs and crutches in without bumping anything.
He got into the driver’s side and winked at me. “We’re going to the rink on the edge of town.”
“Are you going to tell me why?” I grinned.
“Nope,” he said simply with a chuckle. “Settle in, Birdy.”
I shook my head and did as he said. The rink we sometimes used if there was a scheduling conflict at NGU was about a twenty-minute drive from the house. When we arrived, he helped me out again and led me inside. A tall man with a bushy gray beard and a smooth head met us at the door. He reminded me of a biker from the Kings of Men MC.
Atlas slid him a hundred dollar bill and the man left with a grunt. He certainly was no Hank.
“Okay, are you going to kill me,my world?” I teased, mirroring the kinds of things he said to me when I’d first brought him to a rink alone. “Did you just pay for someone to remove the body after you’re done?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh yeah, because a rink would be the best place to do that.” His teeth flashed as he smiled wider and opened the door for me. “No, Birdy, I’m not trying to kill you. That’s Neil. He’s the caretaker of the rink on weekends. I paid him to keep the place closed for the morning so we can have time alone. See, unlike Hank, whoadoresyou, I have to pay my way.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? So, you want to fuck on the ice? Not gonna lie, that’ll be painful, and I can’t on my hands and knees. I’m definitely not getting frostbite just to get rammed by your cock.”
“So, if you’re not thinking about murder, it’s sex.” He took my elbow and guided me down the wide hallway that led into the rink. Carefully, he moved me into the seats and helped me sit in the front row.
“Murder and sex, what else is there?”
“Hockey?” he offered.
“Third on the list,” I said.
He laughed again. “Fuck, Birdy, you’re killing me.”
I pointed at him. “See, you’re thinking about murder, too. If I remember correctly, you’re the horror fan, not me.”
He sat in the seat beside me and unzipped the bag he’d brought with him. Pulling out socks and skates, he whipped a wry smile at me. “Were you always such a nerd or am I learning something new about you?”
I didn’t answer because the teasing question had my mind buzzing. We’d fucked and played hockey together, but for most of that time, we were busy pushing each other’s buttons. I knew things about Atlas, and he knew things about me, but this type of conversation was new. We’d gone from hatred foreplay to something sweeter, and I didn’t mind it. If anything, I loved this new dynamic between us.
“All right, I want to show you something.” Atlas pushed to his feet and opened the door to the rink. “I’ve been practicing.”
