Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Atlas
Pulling up to Emma’s, I scan my messages.
It’s Monday evening, and I haven’t heard from Cora since yesterday.
I wanted to drive by her house, but I held myself back, barely.
The need to be with her is intense. I’ve grown accustomed to seeing her at the shop, but now I want more.
After hearing how sweetly she moans my name, I’ve become a fiend.
I know she has her hands full, but I’m hopeful the bag of supplies I left was enough. Maybe I should grab more?
“Are you coming in or are you going to stare at that thing all night?” a voice shouts next to me.
Jumping out of my skin, I turn to see Emma standing at my car door.
“Fuck, Emma. Don’t do that.” I let out a breath and regret my choice of words when I see her face. “Sorry. You scared me.”
Pulling her in for a hug, I put my chin on top of her head, knowing that she hates it.
“Get off me, you oaf. Come on. I made dinner.” She gestures toward the house, and like the dutiful son I am, I follow.
Taking my coat off, I lay it over her old, worn couch. I’m fairly certain it’s been here since before we arrived. “Why don’t you upgrade your furniture? Let Kash and me take you for something,” I shout as I walk toward the kitchen.
“Nonsense,” she replies, grabbing plates. “There’s nothing wrong with my stuff. You boys have done enough for me.” Setting the table, she goes back to ignoring me.
“But, Emma—”
“Butts are for sitting on, not talking about. Now grab something to drink and park it.”
Giving her a deadpan look, I drop it. Even though Emma is wrong, I’ll never tell her that.
I value my life. There’s not ever going to be ‘giving enough’ when it comes to Emma.
It’s not me being dramatic when I say I would likely be dead if it wasn’t for her.
The day I came to stay with Emma was the day I got out of the hospital from having an arm and ribs broken from the foster family prior to her.
“So, what’s the occasion?” she asks, placing a plate on the table in front of me. I’m so glad none of the guys are here. Emma made pierogi with sausage, and I don’t have to share a damn bit of it.
Cutting into the first little pocket of goodness, I smile at her. “What? Can’t I visit you without a reason?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
Thinking of how best to tell her I met my future wife, I mull it over for a few pierogi. Not wanting to make her panic, I simply settle for, “I met someone.”
Emma’s eyes find mine, her fork pausing mid-bite. “You meet lots of people in your line of work.”
“Not like this.”
She eyes me and then nods. “So it’s not the girl at the shop that Kash says you pissed a circle around? That’s a shame. She sounds nice.”
“Kash better keep her name out of his mouth.”
“Is that so? He was very forthcoming about how pretty she is and how kind. Said everyone loves her there, and something about a night out for you two recently.” Emma must see something on my face because she smirks and continues, “I guess there’s some truth to it then.”
“Kash talks a lot, like a gossiping teenage girl.”
“True, but your silence says more.” She smirks, standing from the table.
Sighing, I debate how much to tell her. I want Cora, but I need Emma to like her. “She has a kid. He was sick the other night and got dropped off when I took her home.”
I leave out the part where Matt was there because it makes me want to smash something. He seemed way too comfortable around my girl, and there’s the whole not knowing if he’s the father.
I’ll have to fix that.
“Is she in a relationship, then?” Emma questions, putting leftovers into a container.
Standing from my seat at the table, I join her by the sink and wash dishes. It’s a house rule. Emma cooks, and we clean.
“Yes, with me. I dropped some supplies at her house yesterday,” I admit, as I wash and load some plates into the rack to dry.
Emma cuts me with a curious look. “Is that so? Did you at least give her soup?”
Pausing, I try to remember everything I bought but come up blank. I threw half of the medicine aisle and some sports drinks in there, but I can’t remember if I actually put in any soup. Shit. How could I forget something so simple?
Seeing my panic, Emma’s gaze softens. “Don’t worry.
I have just the thing.” Opening the freezer, she pulls out a couple of large containers.
“Here.” She hands them to me. “Take this to your girl. It’s my chicken soup.
I made a fresh batch last week and had a bunch of extras.
It’s perfect timing. There’s also a vegetable just in case too. ”
Kissing her on the cheek, I take the containers from her. “Thanks, Emma. I appreciate it. I’ll drop them off.”
Smiling, I now have an excuse to see my girl. Like I needed one.
“Go. Get out of here. Go see your girl. I can see you’re itching to get to her.”
“Thanks, Emma. I appreciate you.”
“For ever and ever?” she asks, pulling me in for a hug. There are a few people in this world I let close to me, and Emma was the first.
“For ever and ever,” I echo back before grabbing a bag for the containers, loading it in my car, and heading across town to see my girl.
It takes about twenty minutes to get from Emma’s to Cora’s, but when I look at the clock on my dashboard, I see it’s later than I thought. Some of the front lights are on, so even though it’s pushing nine o’clock, I decide I should be safe. Grabbing the bag, I pull my coat tighter.
Not wanting to ring the bell in case Noah is asleep, I knock on the door and wait a few minutes.
I’m about to knock again when I hear feet shuffling to the door.
Expecting to see my girl, a smile spreads across my face, but quickly freezes when I see it’s not Cora, but Noah.
Not wanting to freak him out, I go for a more neutral look.
“Hey, bud. Is Cora here?” I look past him, hoping to see or hear her, but only the sound of the television greets me.
“She’s in the bathroom upstairs.” He points. “She’s been there for a while. Throwing up.” He wrinkles his nose. “Who are you?”
Shit. She must have caught what the kid had. “I’m Atlas. I came by to bring these for you guys,” I say lamely, holding up the bag of soups. “Can I come in real quick?” I really don’t want the kid to freak out, but I need to see her.
“I’m not supposed to let anyone in.”
“I’m not just anyone, though. I work with Cora, and I have soup,” I remind him. “Cora could probably use some,” I tag on in the hope that it works, and his affection toward her will have him open the door.
Luck is on my side because he leans forward and unlocks the screen door, letting me in. It’s so much warmer inside. “She’s still upstairs,” he informs me as he goes back to the couch to resume watching whatever was on before I came in. It looks like a documentary about some type of bug. Okay then.
“Be right back.” Setting the bag on the counter, I take a deep breath. I can’t fuck this up.
Heading up the stairs, I take a peek into the first room and realize it must be Noah’s.
It’s not overly childish, but it’s the type of room I would have loved to have as a kid.
A small desk sits to the side along with a bag full of soccer gear next to it on the floor.
Making a mental note of that, I move toward the end of the hall.
The sound of retching tells me I’m in the right spot.
“Cora, baby?” I call as I walk into her bedroom. Her bathroom connects to it, but I don’t allow myself any time to scope it out. I’ll have plenty of time for that later. My girl needs me.
Entering the doorway, I’m met with the sight of Cora on the floor of the bathroom, lying in the fetal position, clutching her stomach. Ignoring the harsh tile floor, I drop to my knees.
“Hey,” I croon. “What happened, beautiful girl?” I grab her and pull her into my arms. Her skin is hot to the touch, and she’s clammy.
“Cora. Babe, can you open your eyes for a second? Look at me.” I brush the hair away from her forehead. Her blue eyes focus on mine briefly before she slams them shut.
She groans. “The light hurts.”
Reaching back, I slap the lights off, and she sighs in my arms. “Come on, pretty girl.” I lift her gently and move her to her bedroom. Shuffling her in my arms, I pull back the bedding and lay her down. There are tissues and cold medicine on her nightstand.
“Is she okay?” a small voice asks from the doorway. Turning around, I see Noah standing there, concern marring his face.
“Yeah. She probably caught a cold. Do you guys have a thermometer?” I ask, even though I’m sure Cora probably has four. She’s always prepared.
Nodding, he goes into her bathroom and flips the light on. I hear drawers opening and closing, then he shuts the light back off, and comes back with a digital one in his hand.
“Thanks, do you think you can grab me a bottle of water or maybe a sports drink if you guys still have them?” I ask. I need to strip her down, and I don’t want him to be here.
“Yeah. I’ll go grab one,” he offers, running out.
Focusing my attention back on her, I take her temperature and see it’s close to 102. Not good. Grabbing her shorts, I pull them gently down her legs and toss them in the basket I see by her door. Ignoring the desire I feel looking at her bare legs, I pull the blanket up higher on her.
When Noah gets back with the water, I thank him and send him back downstairs. “Baby,” I murmur. “Cora, I need you to wake up for a minute.”
She’s so out of it but still curls closer toward me. “Here, you need to take these.” I shake a fever reducer into my palm and help her sit up. “Come on, take a few sips for me,” I coax her.
“Atlas?” Her eyes open as she leans up against me. “Why are you here? You need to—” A coughing fit cuts her off. “You shouldn’t be here.”