Chapter 35 #2
Truthfully, I never wanted to leave his side, let alone go back to living separately. It was a good thing our codependence was mutually compatible.
Atlas eyed me up and down. “You can keep your things wherever in the world you want, but I’m not sleeping apart from you for one more night.”
Heat filled my cheeks, and I looked away so he wouldn’t see my smile. “Fine,” I sighed.
He chuckled, low and throaty. It made me want to climb into his lap. “Play coy all you want, but I know you’d be crawling for me by dawn, sweetheart.”
“I beg your pardon. I would not crawl for anyone.”
His eyes flashed danger, danger, danger, and it was thrilling and delicious and everything I ever wanted. Just like the night we first met in that alley, he made me feel like a cornered animal in the most erotic way possible. “You would crawl for me, if I asked very, very nicely.”
My heart pitter-pattered. Later. We would investigate this more thoroughly, later. “Whatever. Jeffrey and I are a package deal, though, so I hope you’ve got some sturdy lids for all those fish tanks.”
Atlas lifted my hand, still linked in his, and rubbed his cheek against my scent gland. “I look forward to you both joining me. There’s plenty of closet space. We can re-do the kitchen however you want, and I’ll make some calls about installing one outdoors before next summer.”
I studied his face. A loon called across the water, wailing for its mate.
“I love you,” I whispered. It was the easiest thing in the world to imagine joining our lives, like two jagged puzzle pieces finally fitting into place, soothing each other’s sharp edges.
He smiled. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
Bats danced above us, eating up the last of the summer insects. In the blue hour light, they were merely streaks of dark wings against the fading sky.
Across the lake, the boat pulled away from the dock, the two silhouettes standing next to each other as they trundled out into the bay. Something about the way they looked, though, didn’t sit right.
Obviously I couldn’t tell for sure from this far away, but if it was Saint and Gwen, their heights were wrong. Gwen was taller, whereas the second figure didn’t even come up to Saint’s shoulder.
“Is that Gwen with him?” I asked. And then, “If they’re both disposing of Joey's body, who’s staying with Enzo?”
Atlas squinted before his forehead smoothed in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What?” I asked. “Who is it?”
“I think it’s Miles.”
My brain buffered. “The nurse?”
I thought that little shit had left for good, my omega grumbled.
Atlas only nodded.
“Why would he be disposing of a body with the nurse?” I asked, offended. “Isn’t this a giant family secret? Why does he get to find out on day fucking one, but you waited two years to tell me?”
He sat back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “They’ve known each other longer than we have.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Stop being cryptic. Spit it out.”
He laughed, free and warm, like finally sharing things with me was a relief. “Miles is Enzo’s omega dad.”
My mouth dropped. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. That little brat of an omega was with your uptight brother? How would that even work?”
Atlas shook his head. “I get the impression he’s a brat because he’s around Saint. Why that is, I don’t wanna know; I just know he doesn’t act that way at the clinic.”
I cringed and shook my head. “Ew. You’re right. I don’t want to think about it. Gwen said Saint was married before, though. How did they even get together?”
With a sad sigh, Atlas shook his head. “It’s a long story.”
We spent the evening like that, talking about everything and nothing, enjoying the last of the summer night air. Long after the boat lights disappeared out into the massive stretch of water, Atlas sighed. “We should head in. I hope they hurry back soon, though. I think it’s going to storm.”
Dark blue-gray clouds loomed in the distance, devouring the last of the blue light into the storm’s maw.
“Hey, look,” he said, pointing at the distant sky. “Heat lightning.”
Bright flashes lit up the horizon, as if the warmth of the night itself charged the atmosphere.
I blinked away the sudden, conflicting swell of emotion his words stirred in me. “Someone told me once that heat lightning isn’t real,” I whispered. “They said it’s just normal lightning from a storm you can’t see yet.”
Atlas threaded his fingers through mine and pulled me to my feet, guiding me inside in the dark. I followed blindly, like I always would.
“I mean, maybe that’s true,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
“Yeah,” I said, relishing the feel of my hand in his. His skin against mine created its own heat lightning in the space between us. “You’re right. It is real.”
He pulled me inside, led me back to the bedroom—our bedroom—laid me down on the sheets, and made sweet, slow love to me.
After, just as I was drifting off to sleep wrapped in his arms, I wished I could wake up and relive this night for all eternity. And yet, I also couldn’t wait for what was next. My dreams of long, summer nights dancing with the fireflies brushed up against my consciousness, closer, now. Tangible.
I’d once wondered who held the man with the world on his shoulders. Now, I could say for certain that I did.
I held him, and he held me.
He was my lighthouse in a storm. The safest spot to land, and also the most thrilling rush, all wrapped into one person.
He was my mate, and no matter what, we would hold each other up.