Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cora
Peeling my eyes open, I wince and sit up in bed.
God, I feel awful. I don’t know what Noah had, but it hit me harder than it hit him.
Flipping my blanket back, I realize my legs are bare.
I don’t remember undressing myself but, wait.
Some type of vision flashes in my mind of Atlas being here. That can’t be right, right?
Noah’s cold only lasted through most of Sunday, so he stayed home today. Wait. What day is it? Grabbing my phone, I flip it over and see it’s almost one o’clock on Tuesday afternoon. Oh my God! Noah, school. Shit.
Panicking, I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I’ll get more than a letter this time.
“Noah!” I yell, wincing. My head still hurts. Got it. “Dude, we’re in such trouble now,” I add, hobbling to my dresser to grab leggings and a tee.
“What are you in trouble for, Firefly?” a deep masculine voice asks behind me. I scream and whirl around to find Atlas standing in my doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I juggle to put on my leggings, almost falling over in the process.
“Easy there.” He rushes to help me. “You’ve been out for a while, but your fever finally broke earlier this morning,” he explains, bending to pull my leggings up my legs the rest of the way.
Blushing, I push his hands away and take a step back.
“I know, I’d rather be taking them off than putting them on, but playing nurse for you is kind of fun.” He smirks, grabbing my phone off the bed. When he offers it to me with a small smile, I quietly take it and shove it in my pocket.
Trying to ignore the way my stomach flutters, I ask, “What are you doing here? Where’s Noah?”
“It’s one o’clock. He’s at school.”
“But how? He doesn’t take the bus.”
“I know. He told me that last night. I dropped him off this morning,” he says, as if it’s no big deal.
“What do you mean, you dropped him off?”
Confusion mars his face, and he shrugs. “I helped him pack his lunch, made sure he had his coat, and dropped him off at school.”
The urge to cry comes to me all at once. “Why didn’t you wake me up? My alarm never went off.”
“I know. I turned them off.”
My head snaps in his direction. “What do you mean, you turned them off?” Pulling my phone out, multiple notifications light up the screen, but I ignore them for now and turn my volume back on.
“What I said, Firefly; I turned them off. You needed the rest, so I took care of it.”
‘I took care of it.’
It sounds foreign coming from him. I take care of everything. What’s his deal? He was probably just being nice. Standing silently, I finally take a good look at him. His clothes are a bit disheveled, like he slept in them, but his hair looks damp.
“Why is your hair wet?” I blurt out.
“I took a shower.” He smiles. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Where’d you take a shower?” I ask in confusion.
Taking a step toward me, he smirks, his normally dark eyes looking a little lighter.
There’s a bit of a honey color to them. Raising his hand to my forehead, he rests his palm on it, as if he’s testing to see how warm I am.
“Your bathroom. We can try it together next time,” he offers, pulling his hand away.
I immediately miss its warmth, and a shiver wracks my body.
“Are you cold?” Not waiting for an answer, I stand in shock as Atlas strips out of his hoodie.
His dark T-shirt rides up his torso, and I get a glimpse of his tattooed skin underneath.
I clench my hand into a fist to keep from touching him.
I feel like crap, but when I see that V that dips down at his waist, I suddenly don’t feel so awful anymore.
“Eyes up here, Firefly. We can’t have you getting cold. Looks better on you anyway.” He winks as he tugs it over my head. “That’s better. Now, let’s get some food in you.” He turns and walks out the door, leaving me behind.
I take a minute to collect my thoughts. Glancing at my reflection, my dark hair is half matted to my head, and I cringe.
This is what I look like? Of course it is.
Attempting to fix my hair, I toss it in a bun and grab a headband.
I’ll need a shower soon so I can go pick up Noah.
I’m feeling a bit more human today. I don’t know what happened yesterday, but I’m more confused about why Atlas stayed.
Heading downstairs, the aroma of chicken and vegetables greets me, making my stomach rumble. I can’t remember the last time I ate. Stopping in the doorway to the kitchen, I watch Atlas grab a bowl from the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer, as if he knows where everything is.
“Sit,” he commands, pointing to a chair at the table.
Not feeling up for an argument, I slide into the one furthest from him.
He sets a bowl of what looks like chicken soup in front of me and some crackers.
“Eat. You need your strength if you’re going to get better.
I don’t like you being sick. I also made you tea and grabbed some ginger ale,” he adds, putting two cups onto the table.
My eyes sting with tears that threaten to spill.
I will not cry over soup and tea. Pull it together, Cora.
I don’t know when anyone has taken care of me like this. The last time I got sick, Noah brought me a drink, and I slept on the couch. I was able to take him to school; it wasn’t as bad as this.
“Atlas,” I start slowly. “Why are you here?”
He sits down next to me and grabs the seat of my chair, dragging me closer to him. Placing his hand over my leg, he gives me a look. “Because you needed me,” he simply responds, as if it’s obvious.
“I never called you.”
“True. But I stopped by, and your brother let me in. You were in no shape to take care of anyone, let alone yourself, so I helped you into bed and made you take some cold medicine.”
I guess that explains how I ended up without shorts. I shiver, thinking of what he could have done to me when I was asleep, but it’s not from fear. Would I let him have his way with me if I wasn’t awake? Shaking that thought out of my brain, I refocus on his face.
“Don’t worry. I was strictly business. I like you to be awake when we have our fun.” Leaning into my ear, he whispers, “I like the way you whisper my name in your sleep, though. I bet I could make you moan it.”
Blushing, I try to move away. His presence is too much.
Being this close to him, I notice how amazing he smells.
I’m pretty sure he used my bodywash, but there’s still something there that’s Atlas.
It’s like fresh air and cedar. I want to lean into him and experience it close up, but his voice breaks me out of my thoughts.
“Eat. It should be cool by now. Emma sent it over with me.”
“Who’s Emma?” I ask as I gingerly take a bite of soup. I’ve heard the guys mention her before.
As soon as it hits my taste buds, I groan.
I know it’s only soup, but it’s been so long since I’ve had homemade chicken soup, and I forgot how good it is.
Mrs. Morgan is obsessed with soups in the winter, and I’d never admit it, but this is better than hers.
The broth is rich, and the carrots are so tender and sweet.
Atlas’ gaze zeroes in on my mouth, and I blush as he stares. I’m dying to know what’s going through his mind.
Clearing his throat, he explains, “She’s our mom. I told her Noah was sick, and she sent me with it. As it turns out, you needed it more. There are a few other containers in the freezer just in case.”
“It’s delicious. Please tell her thank you.”
“Oh, you can tell her yourself tonight.”
My eyes dart to his. They aren’t as dark as they normally are. Atlas has beautiful brown eyes with lighter swirls around the center. When he looks at me like he is now, they look even lighter. “What do you mean?”
“We’re having dinner at her house tonight. You, me, and Noah.”
“I have to work tonight, and I think you have clients,” I remind him.
“Nah. I already texted the guys. I rescheduled mine for the evening, and they said to take today, and get better.”
Staring at him dumbfounded, I internally panic.
I can’t meet Emma. She’s his mom, and we aren’t dating or anything.
Sure, we went out to the game, and he kissed the life out of me, but that doesn’t mean he wants this with me.
Plus, it’s not just me he’s getting; it’s Noah too, and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.
“Atlas. I appreciate all you’ve done, but—”
“Butts are for sitting, not talking about,” he interrupts me, causing a laugh to escape me.
“What are you, five?”
He grins at me, and it hits me straight in the chest. “No, it’s what Emma says, and I don’t want to hear you say but, unless of course you’re talking about mine.”
Is he flirting with me? Who is this guy, and what did he do with grumpy Atlas? I’m so confused. The Atlas I’ve known these last few weeks doesn’t make jokes, doesn’t run kids to school, or drop off soup. The Atlas I know is difficult and moody.
I try not to flinch when he abruptly stands from the table. “Eat your soup. I’m going to finish my project.” He kisses my forehead and heads toward the living room. I’m too busy staring at the way his dark jeans and T-shirt hug his body; it takes a moment for his words to click. Project?
Curiosity wins out, and I follow him, trying not to think about that kiss and abandoning my food.
I’m full anyway. Heading out to the living room, I take in the new dark bookshelves along the wall that are currently being filled.
Not only is he putting books on, but there are also a few pictures of me and Noah.
As if sensing my presence, he turns and explains, “I saw them in boxes over there last night and Noah said they’d been there for weeks. He told me you were planning to put them here”—he gestures to the wall—“and turn most of the wall into shelves.”
Standing speechless, I just stare at him. “I was going to do it eventually,” I murmur. Maybe on one of the rare days when I don’t have a million things to do, or Mr. Morgan could do it.
“It’s okay. It didn’t take much time, and the good news is, you have plenty of space so we can fill it with more things like books, pictures… memories.” As he finishes speaking, he throws me a heated look, his dark eyes focused on mine.
Memories? Looking around the room, I can’t help thinking this has to be a fantasy, or I’m still sick and hallucinating the whole thing. The ringing of a phone cuts through the air, and Atlas shrugs, returning to his current task. “Not mine.”
Pulling my phone out, Matt’s details flash across the screen. Shit. Walking back to the kitchen, I answer and try to talk quietly. “Hey, Matt. What’s up?”
“Hey! Just checking in on you. I haven’t heard from you since Saturday. You and Noah good?” he asks. He really is a nice guy, though not as nice as Atlas. What the hell? Where did that thought come from? Atlas is far from nice, right?
“Um, yeah.” I clear my sore throat. “I caught whatever he had, but I’m good. I should be okay tomorrow. Noah’s at school.”
“Do you need anything?” he offers. “I can always drop Noah off if you want.”
“Um, I might—”
“Cora, baby, where do you want me to put these?” Atlas asks in a louder-than-necessary voice. I turn and find him in the doorway holding two books. Seriously?
“On the shelf.” I give him a ‘what the hell’ look. Turning my back, I realize Matt’s gone quiet. I glance at my phone to make sure our call is still connected. It is. “Matt, are you there?”
There’s a pause, and then, “Yeah, still here. You sound busy, but text me if you need anything.”
Nodding, even though he can’t see me, I reply, “Okay, thanks.” I stare at the phone as it disconnects in my hand.
Whirling around, I level Atlas with a glare.
“What the hell was that?”
The picture of innocence, he stares at me with a smile. “What are you talking about? I was only asking where to put these.” He waves the books in his hand around.
“I’m talking about interrupting my conversation. It was Matt.”
“Oh, I know.” He turns and walks back to the living room.
Stunned by his nonchalant admission, my brain struggles to form a single thought. My stupid stomach is doing flips as I stare at his retreating form. Getting over my momentary stupor, I follow after him.
“I knew who you were talking to the moment you walked away,” he admits as he puts the books on the shelves, where there is plenty of space.
“Then why did you do that?” I cross my arms over my chest. His hoodie is huge on me, so it probably looks ridiculous, but I don’t care. He frustrates me. “Do you think that because you kissed me, that somehow you have a claim on me?”
Turning his full attention toward me, he simply shakes his head. “I don’t think that.”
“Good.”
“I know that.”
“What?”
“I know that I have a claim on you.” He walks toward me.
For every step he takes, I take one back until my back hits the wall.
His arms bracket either side of my head, and I inhale sharply when he leans down.
“When I kissed you here.” He kisses my lips.
“Here.” He kisses my neck. “And here.” He pulls his hoodie to the side and kisses my shoulder, nipping it with his teeth. “That was me staking my claim.”
Ignoring the ripples of heat skirting across my skin, I shake my head. I silently deny him, causing him to let out a laugh.
“When you moaned my name and wrapped your pretty little legs around me.” He lifts me off the ground, my traitorous legs automatically wrapping around his waist. “That meant that you are well and truly mine, Firefly.” He presses into me, and my entire body heats, aching to be closer to him.
“You whispered my name, baby. Even in your sleep, you know who you belong to.”
Smothering the groan threatening to escape, I focus on his face. He presses his forehead against mine and takes a deep breath. I fight the urge to lean in and kiss him, but just barely. “You’ll get sick.”
“Don’t care. Get ready, Firefly. You and me, we’re happening.” Pulling his head back from mine, he kisses my forehead and sets me down gently. “I’ll pick up Noah. Finish your soup, and I’ll clean it up when I get back,” he orders like he didn’t just flip my world on its axis.
Grabbing his keys and walking toward the door, he looks back at me.
“Oh, and Cora?” My eyes meet his. “I was never good at sharing as a kid. Not much has changed as an adult either, actually.” He pauses.
“It’s probably gotten worse. Just something to think about.
” With that, he opens the door and walks out cool as can be, oblivious to the puddle I’ve become.
I’m so fucked.