Chapter Forty-Eight
Atlas
I never imagined that giving a woman an orgasm would be a massive mistake.
But here we were.
A full week after the dry humping on the couch.
And she was doing absolutely everything in her power to avoid me.
“You’re quieter than usual,” Kingston said, glancing over from the driver’s seat. “Pain starting up again?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
In fact, the pain was finally at a tolerable level. Even without any over-the-counter pain meds. I occasionally popped some ibuprofen to help with the swelling of my toes, so I wouldn’t have to go in and get my cast cut, but overall, I was feeling a lot better.
Sure, if I slammed my leg down too hard, it hurt. And, yeah, my neck could sometimes send a shot of pain up my head if I turned my head too fast. I had to be careful about turning with my ribs, too. Even my fingers ached when I overdid it.
But it was all more background noise than the dominant thing in my life.
Thank God, too. Because with things being tense with AJ, I didn’t feel right asking her to help me transfer like she used to.
She didn’t want to get close to me now.
I was managing well enough on my own. I didn’t even call my brothers anymore when I needed to shower. It was a struggle, but I got it done.
At King’s long look, I added, “The pain is a lot better. Only bothers me when I overdo it.”
“Good. Glad to hear that. Wasn’t it kind of late for AJ not to be home?” he asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was probing, or if it was an innocent question.
“She’s doing the overnight shift,” I explained.
“Isn’t that on Tuesday nights?”
“Usually, yeah. But the woman she works with has two kids, and one of ‘em is sick, so AJ volunteered to do her shift.”
All of this I knew because of a note jotted on lined paper on the kitchen counter.
That was exclusively how she was communicating with me lately.
Sometimes the notes were short and sweet, just directions on how to heat up the food she’d prepared me.
Others were longer, explaining her made-up schedule of imaginary errands that she needed to run.
I occasionally got to see her in passing, but each time she was in the common area of the house, she appeared to be in a rush, flustered, like she had no time for me.
Somehow, though, she was also still going out of her way to still take care of me.
Each morning, there was breakfast waiting for me.
Dinner wasn’t carefully prepared while she chatted with me anymore, but there was always something to eat.
When I went to the bathroom or to get changed at night, she came out to straighten up the living room and leave me some water.
My laundry was done.
I was left to conclude that she was getting a lot of this shit done when I was sleeping. And especially if I was out of the house with one of my siblings. Which was happening more and more now that I was in less pain.
Hence me being in the car with Kingston.
On the way to the Mallick patriarch’s house.
Being the in-laws of our sister, the Mallick parents—Charlie and Helen—as well as their children—Ryan, Hunter, Mark, Shane, and Eli—and their sons’ wives, had become an extended family to us as well.
And, hey, we all kind of fit, didn’t we?
The Mallicks, a family of loan sharks and loan shark enforcers. And the Rivers, a family of former armed (but harmless) robbers.
It was always interesting conversation when we were all gathered around Helen’s table.
Hell, sometimes, we even got an outlaw biker named Sugar at the table since Eli, the Mallick’s son, was married to a woman named Autumn whose sister married an arms-dealing biker.
I was actually surprised Helen had let me be in town this long without attending her weekly Sunday dinners.
She was strict about attendance.
Not even my injuries would usually hold her back from demanding I show up.
“Alright. What is it?” Kingston asked, making me realize he’d pulled off to the side of the road up a ways from the Mallick house.
“What is what?”
“You’ve been off every day I’ve seen you lately,” he said. “Is it depression?” he asked. “You need to talk to someone? Get on some meds? I think Dusty could recommend someone,” he said, meaning the wife of Ryan Mallick, who struggled with anxiety and agoraphobia.
“No, I’m not depressed,” I said.
“Is it restlessness? I know you’re used to always being on the go. Having yourself anchored here for this long getting to you?”
“No,” I said, surprised to find I actually meant that.
Sure, there were times when I hopped on my laptop and looked around at new places to travel, or festivals I might want to head to someday.
But I noticed that was less and less lately.
Actually, lately, I’d caught myself researching other shit. Like if there was any training you needed to become a surfing coach. What kind of licensing you would need to open a paddleboarding, wakeboarding, kite and wind surfing, or water skiing business.
Hell, I even spent hours looking into real estate on the water for an eventual business location, a home base for a career that I never really could have ever known I might be interested in.
I always knew, of course, that someday, I would need a plan for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t be able to do extreme sports forever, which would mean the money from my videos would dry up eventually.
I had to have a plan.
Because while I’d paid off the house, I would always have bills and shit to worry about.
I guess I figured I might always just take a job up at Kingston’s security firm more permanently.
The thing was, it wasn’t something I was interested in. I could do it. I’d done it a lot in the past. But wouldn’t it be better to have a career you were actually passionate about?
And what would be more rewarding than helping stoke a curiosity in water sports in the next generation? Or even just in people who had always wanted to learn, but had been too hindered by fear?
People like AJ.
Who admitted they craved adventure, but had simply never stepped out of their comfort zones.
Slowly but surely, over the past few days, a plan had started forming in my mind.
Was it in my immediate future? No.
I was going to need more capital to get shit going. Which meant I needed to get back out in the world, do more exploring, make more videos.
But it was on my radar now.
It was part of a five and ten-year plan.
And, what’s more, I was actually kind of excited about it.
I had a whole list written down of various ‘schools’ I wanted to attend in different countries, wanting to learn from people who’d been instructing for years or decades, then take that information and file it away for when I wanted to give that a go with my own life.
“Really?” King asked, looking both surprised and the slightest bit hopeful.
I knew it killed him that I wasn’t around, that I didn’t seem to want to be around.
A part of me wanted to tell him about my plans for the future. But until I was sure it was going to happen, I didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“Yeah. It’s been nice to be here. Seeing everyone.”
I wasn’t just saying that, either.
The more time I spent with my siblings, in-laws, and the kids, the more I wanted to spend time with them.
That was what I always knew would happen. And part of why I spent such little time in Navesink Bank. Because I knew the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to leave. And I’d never been ready to set down roots.
Now, though?
Now, I was thinking of it.
And as much as I couldn’t admit this aloud—could barely admit it to myself—a part of that was absolutely because of AJ.
As much as I loved my brothers’ wives, I never really understood why they would rather be with just one woman than out being single, and getting to know many women.
Not until I found myself in the house with AJ.
And her silly puzzles. Her great cooking.
The way she carefully mixed several different kinds of bird food, so she could cater to all of the local birds.
How she apologized to the squirrels if she didn’t throw peanuts out for them at their scheduled time.
Listening to her sing to herself as she cleaned.
Watching her interact with Samson, or talk about all the dogs at work.
I just… I don’t know… I got it now.
Because I still wasn’t sick of her.
In fact, it was making me really fucking crazy that she was avoiding me when I definitely wanted more of her.
“Atlas, like I get that you’re on your own all the time and used to not talking to people about shit, but…” Kingston trailed off, exhaling hard. “We used to talk about everything.”
I felt it then, a tug that I don’t think I’d really felt since I’d first taken off on my own, leaving my family behind. We’d never been apart. Until I’d gone off in search of… everything. And yet nothing at all somehow at the same time.
That string that bound all of us. The one that used to be pulled so tightly. But now? Now, it was stretched almost to breaking.
I suddenly wanted to walk it back, to twist some knots in the weak spots.
“AJ is avoiding me,” I blurted out, watching King’s brows shoot up.
“AJ? Why?” he asked, shaking his head.
I exhaled hard, gaze sliding away.
“For chrissakes,” Kingston said with a strange, choked sigh. “You could practically be in a full fucking body cast, and you’re fucking the girl you’re rooming with?”
“To be precise, we’re not fucking,” I said, getting another head shake out of him.
“But something happened.”
“Something… small,” I said, shrugging, not wanting to share details because I had a feeling AJ would be mortified if I did. “And since right after… I’ve barely seen her.”
“How? You live together?”
“Apparently, she now has approximately twelve thousand errands she needs to run a week. Samson has been to the groomer twice. The second time, he came home with painted nails. She’s grasping at straws here,” I said, sighing.
It was a sad fucking day when a woman would take her dog to get his nails painted neon green just to avoid sharing a meal or conversation with you.
Kingston’s gaze moved out the window for a moment, lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out the right way to say what was on his mind.