Chapter 6 #3
“Like you would ever listen to me anyway.”
“What is going on with you?”
Her voice broke slightly, and I had to remind myself that she was grieving and any issues I had weren’t hers.
But didn’t she see it? That there was something going on? Or maybe I was just seeing what I needed to see and breaking down along the way.
“Let me drive you home. Please?”
“Atlas—”
“Oh, Atlas. If you don’t mind, I have a few people that I want you to meet,” one of the town council members said, interrupting Lizzie. “You don’t mind, do you, Lizzie? I mean, you have to share the town hero, don’t you?”
“I’m no hero,” I growled.
Lizzie’s gaze snapped to mine, and she smiled. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Damn straight you will,” I muttered before I let the older woman practically kidnap me to go talk to a few of the town council members I’d missed before.
I didn’t like being paraded like a show pony, and when I finally extricated myself from them all, I moved away and thankfully found myself next to Lizzie again.
The party was still going strong, the parade over, thankfully with me not on a float, and now people were getting ready to dance and just enjoy the late sunset of the summer festival.
“Let me take you home,” I said as I moved closer to Lizzie, and she looked up at me, tilting her head.
“I’m tired, and I could use some time alone.”
I ignored the stares from others, grateful that our core group of friends wasn’t around. Because if they were, there would be even more questions.
Instead, I quietly led Lizzie to my truck and helped her in. When my hands grazed her hips, lifting her, she sucked in a breath.
“Atlas.”
Without thinking, my hand slid down her hip and over her thigh. It settled there, and it took all within me not to let my hand slide a little farther in, to where I knew her tattoo lay.
“Did you ever cover it up?” I asked, my voice deep, raspy.
Lizzie sat there at eye level with me, my hand on her thighs, and her breath coming in pants.
“You know I didn’t.” She reached out then and ran her fingers down my ribs. “You?”
I shook my head, imagining my own tattoo. I had marked my ribs with her name woven within the vines. Just like I was marked on her soft skin. My number—a single ‘29’ tattooed on her upper inner thigh.
She’d surprised me with it, and I’d only found out when I had been between her legs, ready to lick and suck and take my fill.
I loved eating women out. No, that was wrong.
I loved eating Lizzie out. The way she would pant and arch her back.
She always tasted sweet, and I could gorge on her for hours.
And then I had found my number inked on her inner thigh and couldn’t help but nibble and suck. It was as if it were a beacon for my mouth—there was no stopping it.
“What are you doing, Atlas?” she asked before running her hands through my hair.
“I don’t know, Lizzie.”
“That’s not a good answer.”
I nodded, then leaned forward, knowing it was a mistake. But it was mine to make. I brushed my lips along hers, grateful for the shadowy area he as parked in. Nobody could see us here, so there would be no whispers, no gossip.
I had done enough to Lizzie as it was. I waited for her to part her lips, to say it was okay, and when she did, I slid my tongue along hers.
“Is this okay?” I whispered against her mouth.
“It’s okay.”
I took her consent and kissed her harder, my hands squeezing her thighs. I wanted to part them, settle myself between them, and take her, but not here. Not now.
“Atlas.”
I moved back before moving my hand, cupping her face.
“I might not know what I’m doing, Lizzie, but I want you.”
I always have.
“We’ve been so good about not doing this.”
“Are you with someone?” I asked, jealousy once again knocking against my ribs.
“No. I wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I were.”
“I’m not with anyone.” The look of confusion on her face angered me, but it wasn’t her fault. The news lied.
“I’m not with anyone. I haven’t been in a while. I’m not who the news says I am.”
“I know that much. You’re good about keeping yourself private.”
“Not always, but I try.”
“You’re going back to Portland soon. For the season. For training. And I—” She shook her head, her voice thick. “I can’t be the girl you leave behind again.”
I ran my thumb over her lip. “You won’t be. You’re Lizzie.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Then let me show you. Please?”
She opened her mouth to say something, but when a car honked in the distance, she pulled away, and I cursed under my breath.
“Let me get you home.”
“Thank you. I just, it’s been a long few weeks, Atlas. And I don’t know what I’m thinking.”
I caressed her thighs gently and nodded. “Understood.”
Then I closed the door and walked to the driver’s side, knowing that I didn’t understand. Then again, I had no idea what I wanted. Other than Lizzie. But I had always wanted her, even when we had just been friends. Even when we’d gone months without speaking.
And that was my problem.
Only now I was making it both of our problems.
Maybe, just maybe, it was about damn time.