31. Chapter 31
Atlas
Fuck me. My only clean dress shirt is wrinkled.
Not a little wrinkled. Wrinkled like I balled it up and shoved it in the dresser instead of hanging it up.
Which is exactly what I did. I shake it out, but it does nothing.
The collar is still folded in on itself, there's a crease running diagonally across the chest, and the left sleeve looks like it went through a fight with the dryer—and lost.
Hunter is going to kill me.
I hurry into the common area and toss my shirt at Hunter so perfectly that it hangs off his shoulder like a dishrag. He doesn’t even look up from ironing his suit pants. “No.”
“Come on. You're already ironing.”
“Iron your own shit.”
“Please.” I push out my bottom lip when he finally looks up.
He takes my shirt off his shoulder, holds it up, stares at it as if I handed him roadkill, then sets it down next to his.
This man. I could kiss him.
My fingers clench and unclench at my sides.
Tonight. Tonight we talk. Because I need to tell him how I feel because I’m done pretending this is just a friendship.
The board wobbles when Hunter leans into a crease, and he grabs the edge to steady it. One of the legs has been bent since Rua sat on it last month. Hunter threatened to iron his face. Rua winked and told him to buy him dinner first.
“Ease up on Jenkins tonight.”
I snort. “Yeah no. That's our thing, Hunt. He runs his mouth, I put him into the boards, he gets back up and runs it again. It's basically tradition at this point.”
“He's not just a rival anymore.”
“On the ice he is.” I grab the bag of marshmallows sitting next to the iron and fish one out. “And he'd be pissed if I went easy on him. You know that.”
Hunter's gaze locks onto the marshmallow in my hand as he growls. “Those are mine.”
“And?” I pop it into my mouth, holding it between my teeth.
He puts the iron down, closes the distance, then grabs my jaw. “Open.”
I smile, then wrap my lips around the marshmallow and wink.
His dark eyes drop to my mouth, grip loosening, and his pupils dilate.
My heart beats faster, skin heating. I spit the marshmallow out, and he doesn’t look away, doesn’t let go.
Tonight. Wait for tonight.
But when his nostrils flare, I crash my lips against his. Fuck waiting anymore.
Hunter doesn’t move, doesn’t kiss me back.
Tears start to gather in the corner of my eyes.
What did I just do?
I take a shuddering breath and start to pull away when he grabs the back of my neck, slamming his mouth onto mine. I gasp, blinking, my brain short-circuiting.
Hunter growls and licks into my mouth, his tongue sliding over mine.
My body comes online, and a moan that I've never made in my life tears out of me. Not during sex, not when I'm jerking off to the thought of him alone in the dark, not even when I’ve been with Cody.
He backs me up into the wall, pressing his entire body against mine, neither of us breaking the kiss. He pushes my thighs wider with his knees, steps between them, then slowly drags his hard cock against mine.
My breath catches in my throat.
He’s hard. For me.
Heat surges through my groin, and I buck against him. Again. And again.
Five years. Five years of wanting him. Wanting him to want me the same way. And he does. He fucking does.
I fuck my tongue into his mouth, kissing him with everything I have as I reach into his boxers. His ass is perfect—hard muscle flexing under my fingers—and I pull him tighter against me.
He growls, his hips snapping harder. Faster. Each thrust drives me into the wall.
My cock strains against the zipper of my dress pants, leaking into my boxers. I want out of them, want to feel him against me. I moan into his mouth, squeezing his ass harder.
He breaks the kiss only to suck the side of my neck, licking the spot as his teeth clamp down on the skin.
“Hunt.” It comes out wrecked. A whine. Not a word I speak, but a sound my body shoves past my throat.
His mouth lifts off my neck. His hips stop. His hands pull away from me. Then he takes a step back.
No. No. No.
Hunter turns away from me, pacing and scratching his head.
I swallow hard, throat tight, pulse racing. This isn’t happening. Not again. I suck in a shaky breath and straighten to my full height, then walk over to him and grab his shoulder, spinning him to face me. “Stop it.”
“Atlas—”
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t you dare say it was a mistake.” My voice cracks as it gets louder. “It wasn’t a mistake, Hunt.”
He just stares at me, mouth pressed into a tight line.
And it fucking pisses me off. I shove his shoulder, my ears heating. “Five fucking years I kept it to myself. Well, I mentioned it once, but you rejected me.”
“You were joking.”
“I said shut the fuck up. I’m talking now, and you’re going to fucking listen.” My breaths come out ragged, my chest heaving. “I’ve always wanted you. You. And I can’t hide it anymore. Yes, I want Cody. But I want you too.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he studies me.
I step in closer, leaning my forehead against his, our lips brushing. “Please, Hunt. Please want me back.”
Hunter doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes and leans into me. There’s a slight tremble to his body. His face scrunches, then a shaky exhale escapes. “Garrett is back.”
A chill runs down my spine, the hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end, and I back away from him. “What?”
“He showed up a few weeks ago. We’ve been texting.”
Every muscle in my body tenses, my nose flaring. “That’s what you’ve been hiding? Where you were running off to?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Fuck you.” My voice cracks. “The Prius you mentioned. It was him, wasn’t it? And you played fucking stupid. You watched me fall apart and didn’t say shit.”
He steps closer, reaching out, but I retreat. His hand falls. “No, it wasn’t him. Atlas, he’s gone now. Back in Ohio.”
I huff, wiping my eyes. “Great. Ohio. Like that’s going to stop him from coming here again. Wait, you two were texting. Planning on having a fucking sleepover soon?”
“Atlas, he’s my brother.”
I surge forward and barrel into him. “Fuck you! Fuck you, Hunter! He tried to fucking kill me!”
“Atlas.”
“NO!”
My body is shaking so hard, I can’t stop it. I feel like I’m going to puke. I need to get the fuck out of here.
But when I start to walk away, Hunter grabs my upper arm. I twist and swing, my fist connecting with his jaw.
“Fuck!” He lets go and turns, rubbing his face.
I grab my shirt from the ironing board and storm out of the room.
Tears streak down my cheeks, my chest heaving uncontrollably as I sprint down the hall. I had everything. Everything I ever wanted.
For exactly five minutes.