Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
Atlas
What the fuck did one wear on a dinner date when you were an absolute gym bro?
I’d had a hard enough time finding something to wear for our first date, and I didn’t want to repeat any outfits just yet.
I was pretty sure gray sweatpants didn’t count for date attire other than Netflix and chill—which I would totally be down for with Tegan—but that wasn’t what this was.
We’d both made our expectations for the evening pretty clear. I wanted to dress the part.
I rummaged through my closet hoping I could find another pair of dinner date–appropriate pants that would fit over the twin barrels I called my thighs.
“Aha,” I yelled to myself when I pulled a pair of khakis off the very top shelf of my closet. Tugging at the material, I was shocked that it had a slight stretch to it. These might actually work.
I kicked off my sweats and wriggled the khakis up my calves and then by some miracle they made it over my thighs. When my tail was worked through the specially made hole in the back, they buttoned with no problem and sat low on my waist, just below the V of my hips.
Perfect.
Now what shirt was I going to wear?
I flicked through the rows of hangers, past the shirt I wore on our last date and all the Leviathan Fitness T-shirts and tank tops I owned.
There had to be something dressier in here.
My eyes caught on a light pink button-down shirt. It reminded me of the color of Tegan’s cheeks when she blushed.
I snatched it from the hanger and lumbered over to the mirror.
“Come on, fit. Please fit,” I mumbled under my breath as I pulled on the thin piece of material, taking extra care not to snag it with my claws.
I slipped my arms in and shrugged it over my shoulders, holding my breath while I did so.
“Yes!” I shouted as I fumbled with the buttons. Big hands made buttons difficult enough, and when you paired those with claws, it was a tedious task.
I stepped back and admired myself in the mirror, my tail swaying from side to side behind me.
The fur on top of my head curled wildly and I did my best to tame it, but it was a losing battle. Tegan would just get a chance to see me in all my furry glory.
Buzz.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out to turn off my alarm.
5:40 p.m.
She should be arriving soon.
I’d prepped all the ingredients for dinner earlier, so I just had to throw everything together, and we’d be good to go.
As I bolted down the stairs to the kitchen, I shook my head.
I still couldn’t believe Tegan sucked me off this morning in the gym.
I figured my knot would be new and my size might be intimidating, but she seemed so turned on by it, giving it everything she had.
Holding her in my lap afterward felt so normal.
So right.
I couldn’t wait to take my time with her tonight. I wanted to show her just how fun a wolven’s textured tongue could be.
I did one last sweep of the kitchen, making sure everything was ready. I’d set us up to eat at the island because it felt cozier than the formal dining room. To be honest, I hated that fucking thing. Most useless room in this entire fucking house.
In fact, a lot of these rooms were fucking useless.
Maybe I should just take the loss and sell the place.
I was worried this stupid McMansion would give Tegan the wrong impression of me.
Sure, I had some money now, but that didn’t change who I was—and it never would.
That was one of Jade’s biggest gripes about me. But Tegan was different.
I could tell from the way she looked at me. The way she laughed. The pride she had in herself. The love she had for her friends.
There was no faking those sorts of things.
Just as I was about to plop my ass onto one of the stools surrounding the island, the in-home intercom system dinged to life.
“Mr. Oberon, a Ms. Tegan Rollins is here to see you. Would you like us to let her in?” Ken, the security guard who worked the front gate, asked.
Fucking gated communities. I was a wolven. An apex predator. Why the fuck did I need to live in a gated community?
“Yes, Ken. Go ahead and let her in, thanks. In fact, add her to my priority guest list. She’s welcome at any time,” I said with a smile.
“Will do, sir. Have a lovely evening,” he said, and with a click, the intercom shut off.
Any moment now Tegan would pull up to my house. She was going to be here, in my home, having dinner with me.
My security system alerted me to movement in the driveway and I made my way to the front door just as Tegan rang the bell.
When I opened the door, the sight of her took my breath away. She looked gorgeous.
Her hair was styled in loose waves and her dress—sweet goddess, her dress.
The light pink color matched my shirt and clung to every inch of her body, the low-cut neckline putting her perfect breasts on full display.
I mean, I hadn’t seen them yet, but I was confident they were perfect, just like the rest of her.
My ears perked up and my tail shifted from side to side rapidly. I had to fight to keep my tongue from lolling out of my mouth. I was just so damn excited to see her.
“Hi there,” Tegan said with a giggle. “Are you going to keep staring or did you want to invite me inside?”
Haha, shit. That sassy little attitude made me want to spank her ass until it was bright red.
I scratched my ear and smiled. “Oh, uh, yeah. Come on in. Glad to see you found the place okay.”
Glad to see you found the place okay? The fuck, Atlas? You live in the most exclusive neighborhood in town. Of course she found it okay. Idiot. Any game I had went down the drain when it came to Tegan. She reduced me to a bumbling simp.
And the truth was, I had no problem with it.
I held the door open and gestured for her to come inside, admiring the way her dress fluttered with each of her steps.
“So, this is my house. Yes, I know it’s a little ridiculous for one person, but for the time being I’m sort of stuck with it.” I figured it was best to address the whole mansion thing sooner rather than later.
Tegan’s bright green eyes widened as she took in the sleek white surfaces and modern decor. “I really like it, actually. And your shirt, too. We match.”
Like the stupid love-drunk puppy I was, my tail wagged even harder. “You do?”
“Yes, silly.” She nudged my shoulder playfully. “Where can I put this?” Tegan held up a white box that I assumed was our dessert.
“Oh, the kitchen’s through here.” I grabbed her hand, leading her down the hall to the kitchen.
“Atlas. Are you serious?” she mumbled as she looked around the kitchen.
“What?” I asked as I took the box from her and set it on the counter.
“This kitchen! This is like a full chef’s kitchen.” The excitement in her voice was cute.
“Well, I like to cook, so—” I shrugged and scrubbed my claws along the back of my neck. I guess I never thought much of it because I saw it every day, but it was my favorite part of the house.
“You’ll have to give me lessons,” Tegan said as she sat down at the island. “I’m hopeless when it comes to cooking.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Your job involves cooking.” I leaned over the island and stared at her, just marveling at the sight of Tegan, here, in my house. On another date with me.
“I went to school to become a pastry chef. That isn’t the same as being a regular chef.” She giggled and rolled her eyes at me before tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.
“Well, my apologies, Ms. Rollins. But I’d love to teach you to cook. And it just so happens that tonight you’ll be having your first lesson.”
“My first lesson?” she asked, her brows drawing back.
With everything prepped, I figured it would be more fun having her help rather than just sitting there watching while I did all the cooking. I even had something to keep her dress clean.
“Yep.” I went inside the pantry, pulling two aprons off the hook hanging by the door. “We have the classic ‘Kiss the Cook’ or the one that looks like you’re wearing a bikini. Which one would you like?” I asked, holding up an apron in each hand.
It didn’t take her long to decide. “Definitely the ‘Kiss the Cook.’ You in a bikini is too good to pass up.”
“I mean, you’ve already seen my competition pictures. Isn’t that pretty much the same thing?”
“Shhh.” She put her finger to my lips, hushing me. “Don’t ruin the fantasy for me.”
Once we put on our aprons and washed our hands, I laid out all the ingredients and had Tegan stand next to me at the counter.
“All right,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “What are we doing here?”
Her enthusiasm was adorable.
I had Tegan boil the noodles while I worked on the garlic bread. When that was done, I’d sauté the shrimp and mix everything together.
“So where did you learn to cook?” she asked, stirring the noodles.
Because the last thing I wanted to do tonight was slice my finger open, I finished cutting the garlic bread in half before I answered. “My dad taught me everything I know.”
“Huh.”
I cocked my head. “Is that surprising?”
“No. I mean, I just never saw my dad in the kitchen when I was growing up. My mom cooked all our meals.”
“My dad really enjoys cooking, and he likes to take whatever he can off my mom’s plate.”
She hummed. “So that’s what it’s like to be part of a healthy, functional family.”
If that’s what she considered a healthy and functional family, her bar was pretty low. To me, that was the bare minimum.
“You don’t have a good relationship with your family?” I asked.
“Things between me and my mom are great, but things with my brother and I have been weird since my dad passed away last year.”
Tegan had mentioned her mom and her brother, but she’d never talked about her dad.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t an empty apology, either. I meant it. Losing someone was hard. “I had no idea.”
She forced a smile and it made my heart ache for her. “It’s okay.”
“Were you guys close?” I asked. I hoped I wasn’t pushing too hard on a painful topic, but family was important to me, and I wanted to learn more about hers.
“We were. I really loved my dad, but it’s hard reconciling the version of him I knew with how other people perceived him. I think my mom and my brother carry a lot of resentment toward him. Sometimes I feel bad that I don’t.”
“I know it’s easier said than done, but you shouldn’t feel bad. It’s okay to love your dad even if he wasn’t always the perfect father or perfect husband. Being a parent and a partner is hard, and we’re all just living our life for the first time, figuring things out as we go.”
The noodles started to boil over, and Tegan jumped back from the stove.
“Shit, sorry,” she said, as I reached for the knob to turn off the heat.
“It’s all good,” I reassured her. I moved the pot to another burner, using a slotted spoon to fish out a noodle. After blowing on it a few times, I held the spoon out to Tegan, and she eagerly slurped up the noodle.
“Done?” I asked.
“Mhm,” she mumbled.
I drained the pasta, stirring in some olive oil so the noodles wouldn’t stick together. “All right, let me just finish the shrimp and we’ll be ready to eat.” I flicked on the burner, heating up olive oil, butter, and garlic in a stainless steel pan.
A minute later the scent of fresh garlic filled the kitchen, and I tossed in the shrimp with a dash of white wine. Tegan watched intently as I shimmied the pan to flip the shrimp.
“That is so sexy,” she said, her voice husky.
If she kept talking like that, we weren’t going to make it through dinner without me hauling her off to bed.
“What? This?” I asked, tossing the shrimp again.
“Yes. Watching your partner confidently cook a meal for you is so hot.”
I grinned. “This is just the first of many.”