Chapter 19
Nineteen
Zee
Sunlight pushes into the room, warm velvet against my skin.
An ache lingers on my back as I shift my naked body, my eyes blinking open.
This sofa is beautiful, but I can’t keep doing this. It wasn’t meant to be slept on for this long.
It wasn’t meant for your stalker to fuck you on, either.
My body jolts up.
Then it all comes crashing into me like a trainwreck.
Me. I’m the trainwreck.
Scenes from last night flash in my head like a series of old photos.
The bookshelf. The armchair. The dining table.
There’s not much on the ground floor that we haven’t explored each other on.
Sugar Skull and I.
Atlas and I.
The sun peeked through the window by the time we fell asleep, entangled on the sofa, my head on his chest like he's my protector.
“I’ll stop at nothing to keep you safe.”
Was that true?
Was he sent by someone to keep me safe?
Like some guardian angel?
Or is this just twisted, sick obsession?
Leaning up on my elbows, my eyes wander the room for any sign of him.
My stomach sinks when I don't find one.
You’re insane.
The purple blanket, usually thrown across the sofa, covers my body as I listen for a sound. A creak. A thud. A door opening.
The only things I hear are birds and cars passing by.
My eyes scan the shelf for the book with the flashing light, but it’s gone, too. So is the caterpillar.
My stomach tightens.
He was here. But where is he now?
Pulling my legs to my chest, I rest my chin on my knees, a chill washing over me. A contrast to the fiery heat that filled this space hours ago.
I don’t know what’s more harrowing. The fact that I slept with my stalker, or the fact that he disappeared afterwards.
Atlas should unsettle me more than he does, but there’s something I saw in his eyes the first day I met him. Last night, he looked at me the way he looked at that moth. Consumed.
My phone chimes from upstairs, my head lifting to the sound.
My alarm for work.
I can still feel him when I push myself off the sofa. The weight of his attention. The deliberate feel of his hands on my skin. The way he handled me with little effort made me feel weightless.
Looking down at my thigh, there’s a small bruise from where he sunk his grip into my skin.
Atlas isn’t careless. If he let himself get this close to me, he meant to leave a mark in more places than one.
Stings fire across my skin as I move to the staircase, gripping the rail. A smile pulls at my face, and if anyone knew why, they’d send me to the fucking ward.
Can I even trust him?
He knows a lot about me, but I don’t know anything about him. He lives two different lives, and I don’t know anything about either one.
At the top of the stairs, I peek into the bathroom.
My shoulders drop.
No sign of him there either.
Continuing down the hallway, I stop by the window.
Squinting, I focus on the forest, between the trees. My eyes stop on every shadow, waiting, like I’m the one obsessed.
Aren’t you?
Pulling my eyes away from the forest, I turn towards the bedroom, a hollowness in my chest. When I enter the room, that hollow feeling shifts to searing heat.
Woah…
My eyes land on the bed, blinking to make sure what I’m seeing is real. A song from VEIL’s latest album fills the air, my phone still chiming in the background.
My hand lifts to my mouth.
Azaleas and black roses cover the perfectly made bed and the floor in front of it. The bed also holds a tray with a stack of crepes and little bowls of fruit. Strawberries. Blueberries. Bananas.
A smile returns to my face, warmth rushing over my body.
Crepes are my favourite, and I haven’t had them in forever, especially not homemade ones.
Two bars of dark chocolate sit next to it.
The perfect percentage. Next to the food are books I’ve had on my Tbr for months.
And the latest VEIL record on vinyl. A new pair of headphones sits next to it, as if he knew mine were old, tinny and outdated.
The space is filled with things I love, things I didn’t know anyone noticed.
My eyes move to a long dark green rope, tied up like a bundle of straw.
My stomach swirls.
What’s he planning on doing with that?
A breeze blows into the room, my eyes moving to the window and… he’s even hung curtains. Dark green ones draping to the floor.
My eyes move back to the spread, and I float over to my phone. A notification lights up my screen after I silence the alarm.
Unknown: It’s Alaina. Can we talk?
My eyes narrow at the text.
A pang slams into my chest.
Liv’s Alaina? From the Manor?
Cree-ak!
My head whips to the door.
“Shit. I thought I’d beat you to it.” Atlas stands in the doorway holding a tray of steaming coffee as that nutty, earthy smell fills the air.
I’ve never seen my stalker in the morning, and it makes me bite my lip.
The soft light catches his eyes, a golden sparkle to them that matches his gleaming composure.
No glasses today, but he wears a clean sweater rolled to his elbows while his joggers outline that massive thing I know can destroy me.
His eyes already study me, his gaze searing into my naked skin like he’s thinking about all the ways to unravel me again.
Atlas pushes the tray forward. “Thought you might need this after last night.”
“Are you a wizard or just incredibly efficient?” I gesture towards the spread with a flick of my head. “When did you do all that?”
“I’m a night owl.” He hands me a coffee before his lips land on my cheek, as if we do this all the time.
"So am I, unless I’m with you, evidently." He smirks. Cute. Real cute. Pulling my eyes back to the bed, heat swells in my chest. “Atlas, this is … beautiful.” Perfect.
No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. To date, my most romantic birthday involved raccoons stealing my snacks on top of a crowded Mont Royal.
He blinks as if I’ve said something weird. “Zee, this is nothing compared to you.” He flicks a finger to the bed. “Go on. Get in.”
I groan, remembering my alarm. “I have to be at the Insectarium in ten.”
“No, you don’t." He sets his coffee down, then I’m lifted off the floor. “Lola’s back. She’ll be fine.”
After how long I’ve waited, I should be bolting to work knowing she’s back. But being in Atlas’s arms makes everything fade. He places me on the bed, in a spot between all the gifts. The smell of fresh crepes wafts into my nose.
“I didn’t even hear you making these.”
“I’m quiet,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head. Watching that body in broad daylight almost makes me short-circuit.
“That’s so not fair.” My body sinks into the sheets as he climbs into the bed with me. “You really shouldn’t look like that.”
He chuckles, an arm coming around me as we sit against the leather vintage headboard. He leans in, reaching for a strawberry as his voice lands against my ears. “You’re one to fucking talk, Zee.”
He pulls the strawberry to my mouth, teasing my lips with its cold skin before pushing it on my tongue.
“I like you,” he says. “I really do. But looking at your body makes me want to commit unspeakable sins.”
My eyes widen when he leans in and kisses me, the tart sweetness of the strawberry on my tongue. A soft sigh leaves me as I fall into his pillowy lips.
Questions sit in the back of my mind, but I want to freeze in this moment. I want to stay just like this—sitting with Atlas having breakfast after a full night of hot sex.
My eyes drift to the rope again as he reaches for another berry.
“What are you planning on doing with that?” I ignore the blueberries he brings to my lips. “You about to kidnap me?”
“Would you like me to?” Atlas arches a brow as he pushes more berries into my mouth.
I stall, juicy blueberries on my tongue, as heat spreads through my body.
He takes the rope, sliding it between his palms. “You like shibari. You highlighted excerpts about being tied up in your books.”
Warmth pools between my legs.
“It looks fun.” I shrug. “But I’ve never tried it. Is that your plan? To tie me up and fuck me?”
“I don’t need to tie you up to fuck you, Zee. But I can if you want me to.”
Excitement singes my core as I look into his eyes. “What else would you do with it?”
“It’s to soothe you.”
Lengthening the rope, he wraps it around my shoulders, his hand firm on my back. He moves quickly but so smoothly. It’s clear he’s practiced this.
“Shibari isn’t just about sex. You don't even need to be naked. It can be about comfort, and trust, and some people really like the pressure of the rope. How it feels.” He tightens the rope around me, pulling me closer to him.
“The texture of it can feel good. The roughness. The softness…” His words land against my ear as he speaks, the coarse softness of the rope tickling my skin.
My skin heats, a tingle between my legs.
“I-I think I get what you mean.” I sound like I'm in a trance as I stare into his eyes. His lips linger so close to mine, I salivate.
“You do.” Then he pulls the rope away, the drag of the fabric sending a shiver through me.
“Be a good girl, eat your breakfast and maybe we’ll get into something.
” Placing the rope on the bed, he piles up a crepe with fruit before pouring some fresh maple syrup over it.
He pushes a knife and fork into my hand.
“Life’s put you through the wringer, Zee, you deserve to be pampered without asking. ”
Biting into the soft, sweet crepe loosens all the tension in my muscles as I lean against Atlas’s firm shoulder. “What else do you know?”
The way his eyes dart around my face, the way he looks at me like a rare gemstone, makes me feel precious. Wanted.
“I know how you blush when someone really sees you. It’s subtle, like you’re afraid you’ll expose all your secrets.”
I blink.
“I know how your body stills when you’re frozen in anxiety,” he continues. “Like it’s holding you captive in an ice cube, and you need someone to melt it and remind you to breathe.”
I hang on to his words, following his lips.