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“Maybe I have my own errands to run,” he says playfully.
The text message flashes in my mind, but I try to play it off like I have no idea.
“Maybe. And maybe tonight, I’ll invite someone over who will actually sleep in my bed like a gentleman when they stay the night with me.”
Just like that, his smile drops. His eyes flare. And he’s taking great, hulking strides in my direction until we’re close enough to touch. He looms over me, a monster staring down at his prey.
“You can try it, Little Bird. But just know that whoever touches you–in any fucking way–will lose their fucking hands, and if they taste your cum–” He cuts off with a loud crack of his neck one way and then the other, and why the fuck am I so wet right now?
“Do you understand?” he asks low, rasping the question across my lips as he leans into me and catches my gaze with a shadow of darkness behind his eyes.
I swallow past the sudden thick lump in my throat. The threat is more of a promise, and it’s one that hits me deep down to my core. Fuck flowers and chocolates. This is what women want.
“I said, do you understand me?” He steps forward so that our chests brush against one another. I suck in a breath at his proximity. He sends every nerve on fire, and I’m not sure if he even knows it. His hand cups the underside of my jaw, tilting my head up higher so I can see the gleam in his gaze. His grasp is firm and painful and makes me ache for all the things I’ve wanted to feel for so long.
I want to feel everything he’ll give to me.
“I hear you.” I’m so breathless, it comes out as a whisper. I nod, but he doesn’t immediately release me.
“I have to run some errands, and you have to get ready for work.” He pulls away without so much as a kiss to assuage the desire that he left coursing through me. I watch as he saunters past me, going into the bathroom to grab his things.
I let out a breath when he’s gone. Fuck, he’s so intense, and he doesn’t know it.
As the bathroom clicks closed behind him, I hurry through the motions of getting dressed. To make it seem more believable, I dress like I normally do for work. Maybe he thinks we’ve come to an understanding. Maybe everything that has transpired between us means he won’t be stalking me anymore. He’ll go to work, he’ll go about his day, and it gives me the perfect chance to follow him without rousing suspicion.
It’s the perfect plan.
At least, it should be.
Once I’m done, my curls tamed into twin braids, Rowan comes out of the bathroom, already dressed and ready to go himself.
“I’d ask you to walk me to work, but I’m technically already at work. Plus, I think you’d be happier spying from the shadows.”
He rolls his eyes and steps closer to me. I brace myself as he bends to my level, pressing his forehead to mine. There’s a moment of silence as he breathes me in and I do the same with him. We don’t kiss. But it’s okay.
Maybe it’s better this way.
Because if I find that I don’t like what he’s hiding, it might be the end of us. Before we’ve even begun.
After a few seconds, Rowan pulls away. “Remember who you belong to, Atlas.” He winks sweetly.
And he turns and walks away.
Nineteen
Atlas
I wish there was a handbook for stalking. Following Rowan around has been so boring. You’d think my stalker would have a more exciting life. Alas, all he does is run fucking errands all day. You know, like he said he would.
At one point, he goes to the hockey arena. The parking lot is nearly empty. My shoes echo down the silent halls, and I have to just stop and watch where he enters before racing after him.
He sits in the back row, and I linger near the door in the shadows. He sits in the stands, and I can recognize him staring at the ice with longing. Meanwhile, his teammates all train. Even that asshole Nathan is on the ice, giving Rowan a side-eye when he enters. The coward.
Rowan got kicked off the team for the rest of the season because of what he did.
Guilt slams into me, but I try to keep that tamped down. I didn’t force him to kick Nathan’s ass. Even if I do appreciate the sentiment. Rowan’s actions are his own, and I don’t think anyone is able to control him.
Not even himself.
