Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“I’m still deciding,” I tell him, craning my neck to follow his gaze. “I need to think on it.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It’s art. Not complicated,” I say, turning back to him, “just needs to simmer a bit until I’m sure. Then, it’ll all come together like that.” I snap my fingers for effect. “And I got Sparkles some presents.”
He sets the cat down and walks over to a couple of grocery sacks sitting on the floor beside a canister of kitty litter and a small plastic litterbox. “You beat me to it. Food and toys. This wasn’t part of the deal.” His brow quirks playfully, but the appreciation in his eyes is what warms me.
“It’s a gift. Call it payback for helping me out last night. I can be sweet sometimes.”
He makes a derisive snort as though he doesn’t believe that for a second, earning himself my middle finger, which doesn’t exactly help my case. Atlas clearly isn’t a fan of sweet because he stalks over to me, captures my jaw in his grip, and bends to kiss the hell out of me.
Well then.
I could definitely get used to that kind of greeting each day.
“Your friend drive you?” he asks as he pulls back and saunters into the kitchen.
“Who? Cormac?”
I follow him into the kitchen to find him digging out a carton of eggs, shredded cheese, and cubed ham. Leaning my hip on the counter, I watch as he washes his hands and gets to work on breakfast.
“Yeah,” he says, his back to me as he reaches in a cabinet for a mixing bowl.
“He doesn’t drive either.”
Atlas glances at me. “Who took you?”
“Are you my keeper?”
“No, brat, I was curious. Seems you were busy and bought a lot of stuff like paint and cat stuff. Just wondering how you managed is all.”
The defensive tension in my shoulders bleeds away. “Oh. I walked. Made a couple of trips.”
He sets down the bowl and frowns at me. “That’s a lot of walking. Especially late at night.”
“Keeps me healthy.”
“Is there a reason why you don’t have a car? I know you can afford one.”
“I don’t have my license, so what’s the point?”
He scoffs at me. “Why not?”
“Because in New York, it wasn’t necessary.”
Walking over to me, his eyes dart back and forth, studying me. “Defensive much?”
“I’m not defensive,” I hiss. Okay, so I’m totally fucking defensive. Whatever.
“Why don’t you drive?”
“It stresses me out.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Jesus. What’s with the fifty questions?”
“I can understand how that would be in a big city. But here? You have no excuse.”
I almost prefer my siblings’ coddling to Atlas’s calling me out. “It’s fine. I can walk.”
“I’m taking you on a date tonight.”
His words give me whiplash. “What?”
“A date. You know, when two guys are into each other, that’s what they do.”
“Idiot,” I growl. “I just thought…”
“That I only wanted to fuck the whole time?” He steps closer, his palms snaking their way to my ass. “Trust me, I’d love to fuck the whole time, but my dick needs a break. Getting old, you know? Not all of us are eighteen and in our dick prime.”
“You’re such a child.”
“Say yes.”
“Ughhh.”
“Close enough.” He flashes me his stupid-hot crooked grin. “I told you your nos sound like yeses to me.”
“It was more of a grumble of annoyance.”
“Same thing. I’m learning to read you like a book. Now, let’s eat so we can go to sleep. I have a full evening planned for us later.”
I should be pissed at how he bosses me around, but unlike everyone else in my life, Atlas does it because he gets off on it. He likes when I fight him, and I’m learning he likes when I give up, too.
He just likes me.
And I like him too.
“What?” I demand, my eyes darting to his reflection in the mirror. “Stop staring. I’ll fuck it up.”
Atlas leans against the doorframe, a maddening smirk on lips that I know smell like cherry limeade chapstick. “Looks pretty damn good to me.”
“Not all guys are into this, you know.”
“Well, I am. In fact, you can paint your pretty lips too right before you suck my dick next time.”
Heat floods to my cheeks, and I nearly drop the eyeliner. “Lipstick?”
“Don’t act scandalized, Callan. You’re putting on eyeliner as we speak.”
“But…” I scowl at him. “I’m not a chick.”
“No, you’re a hot boy with the hottest dick-sucking lips I’ve ever seen. Excuse the hell out of me for wanting to see them smeared and getting my cock messy.” He winks. “I told you. I have some filthy fantasies. You have a safe word if it gets too strange for your comfort.”
Of course, he’d say that in a challenging way that makes my blood boil.
“I don’t need a safe word.”
“But you have one. Prick. You can use it.”
Ignoring him, I finish getting ready. Today is a purple day, and my violet eyeliner gives me an elfish look. I style my dark hair in a messy, tousled way and pucker my lips a few times, wondering what they’d look like in purple.