Chapter 33
33
Rowan
I sat at the bar with Isabel and her silver-haired friend, Zara, and stared at the shot glass full of vodka that Isabel had just ordered. Both she and Zara had gallantly decided to drink for me, since I couldn’t have any alcohol, and apparently three shots was the bare minimum needed for a really bad heartbreak.
“It’s medicinal,” Isabel said as she picked up the shot glass.
“And you can blame the alcohol when Isabel and I present you with Atlas Blackwood’s head on a silver platter,” Zara offered.
I hadn’t really had friends before, but somehow, in the space of half an hour, Isabel and Zara had managed to get me to spill my guts about Atlas, then they let me have a good cry before pulling me over to the bar for some vodka, so I could drink with them in spirit.
Their sympathy and understanding had made me feel better, especially when they shared with me their experiences with the two difficult men they were currently with. Isabel vowed she’d get Caleb to give Atlas a lecture, and Zara said she’d float the idea of beheading with Tennyson. That made me laugh at least, and by the second round of shots, we’d all agreed that life without men would be better.
Isabel downed her shot with Zara following suit, then she said, “I know, let’s go rent a place in Paris.”
“Oh yes,” Zara said excitedly. “We can leave the triumvirate of assholes here, take their credit cards, and run up huge bills.”
I picked up my glass of soda water and held it out. “That’s a damn good idea. Here’s to defunding the billionaires.”
The other two were just clinking glasses with me when suddenly there was a scuffle by the door to the bar, and Atlas came in.
I froze on my bar stool.
“Everyone out!” he roared at the top of his lungs, golden eyes blazing.
“Oooh, bossy,” Zara murmured admiringly. “How did I not know that?”
Isabel rolled her eyes, and pulled Zara off the stool. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go find Dad and Cal. I think Atlas wants a word.”
The bar emptied, leaving me alone, still sitting on my stool.
Atlas kicked the doors shut then strode over to where I sat, blazing like a torch. It felt as if the jagged edges of my broken heart were digging into me, making me bleed, and I went to push myself off the stool, ready to scream at him, tell him how dare he come back, looking like that, and didn’t he know better? Didn’t he know he should have left me alone?
But before I could move, he was there, putting one hand on the bar on either side of me, caging me in. I opened my mouth, but he got in before I could speak.
“You were right,” he said roughly, without any preamble. “I let my fucking dad win and worse than that, I used him as an excuse to distance you. An excuse to hurt you, and that just makes me a fucking coward.”
Shock held me in an iron grip and I just sat there, staring at him as his scorchingly intense gaze seared me down to the bone.
“Fact is, Rowan Blackwood,” he went on. “You are too good for me. You’re stronger than me, braver than me, better than me in just about every way. But…I want to be with you. I want to try to be the better man for you, the kind of man you deserve because?—”
I lifted a finger and put it over his beautiful mouth, the shock ebbing enough to let me move, unable to bear another word of him running himself down yet again. “No,” I murmured thickly. “Don’t say those things about yourself. You don’t need to try, Atlas. You already are the better man and you always were, no matter what happened in the past. And as for what I deserve… You are the kind of man I deserve and the father our child deserves too.”
He kept on staring fiercely at me, and as I took my finger away, he said, “I love you, Rowan Blackwood.”
I opened my mouth then shut it as a sudden, rush of hot tears filled my eyes. “Atlas,” I began.
“No,” he said softly, fiercely. “You need to hear this, beauty. Mine’s not a gentle kind of love, understand? It’s raw and savage and possessive. A life with me won’t be easy. So you need to choose. You need to let me know that this is what you want. That I am what you want.”
My heart was slowly piecing itself back together, the pain sweet, closing my throat. “You idiot,” I managed, my voice thick with emotion. “I already chose you. Back there in that room, in front of all those people. You’re mine and seriously, you think I life with me will be easy? My love isn’t gentle either. It’s just as all consuming as yours, just as desperate.” I leaned forward, the urge to touch him too strong to resist, sliding my arms around his neck, my lips a mere breath away from his. “You should be afraid, Atlas Blackwood. Very afraid.”
He smiled then, the smile he saved for me alone, sexy and warm and yet somehow fierce at the same time. “Beauty, I’m fucking terrified.”
No, ours wouldn’t be an easy life, but it would be an interesting one. A passionate one. A raw, savage and all-consuming one.
And it would be ours.
And that’s all that mattered.