I drifted off to sleep feeling warm and safe, and hopeful.
I'd never felt anything like it with a man before.
And I hoped to be able to hold onto it.
FOURTEEN
Rush
I woke up to a shrieking sound followed by my name being cried out.
Now, normally, that wasn't a bad way to start a morning.
You know, if I was a participant of those sounds.
But I was alone in my bed, the space beside me still warm, but the occupant missing, lost somewhere in the main area of the house where the sounds had come from.
I shot up off the bed, not bothering to find pants, heartbeat already tripping into overdrive at the idea of something having happened to Katie, or someone being in the apartment.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," a familiar voice called as soon as I broke into the opening of the hallway in to the main area.
Atlas.
Half-sitting up on the couch, a spare blanket pooled at his waist, bare from there up.
"Put some fucking pants on, man. No one wants to be seeing that," he added as my gaze slid over to where Katie was standing in the kitchen wearing my shirt from the night before, her hand still clutched to her heart, her half-awake eyes wide.
"Atlas," I told her, watching as understanding came across her face as her gaze slid to my brother, then back to me. She couldn't seem to keep her eyes from roaming over my body, either, even though we had an audience. When her gaze found its way back to my face, her eyes were already heated.
"Oh," she said, shaking her head, trying to shrug off the desire I already saw building. "Sorry. You just... surprised me," she told him, giving him a wobbly smile. "I, we, there wasn't, you know, anyone there last night when we... um... when we got home."
"Aren't you supposed to be in Italy?" I asked.
"Yeah, funny story. They didn't give a shit that I wasn't actually a writer on the writer retreat. But they weren't a fan of me sleeping with the ones who were. Then having them find out. It was all very dramatic. I figured it was time to come home, check in on King, get some good food at Helen's. Pack for something colder maybe."
"You could have called instead of showing up without a word."
"How was I supposed to know your hermit ass would actually have company?" Atlas shot back, smirking at me. True, I hadn't been getting as many women as I used to in recent months, but Atlas got more than enough for the both of us. "Are you the one Mark sent me a text about?" Atlas went on, looking at Katie who was fidgeting with the sleeve of my shirt.
Knowing her, she was having some anxiety about being "caught" at my house. Even though we were all adults.
"Katie," I supplied.
"Right, well, don't let me get in the way of your fuck-festing," Atlas said, making a blush work its way up Katie's neck and across her cheeks.
"You want the shower first?" I asked Katie instead, giving her an out, some time to pull herself together.
"Yes," she said, giving me a thankful smile.
"I'll grab you a towel," I told her, turning her, leading her down the hall into my room. "I'm sorry about that," I said, moving over toward my closet, finding a sweatshirt for her along with a pair of sweatpants that had a drawstring. They'd probably still hang off of her, but I had nothing else to offer her.
"It's okay. I just... I didn't know who was on the couch. Sorry I woke you up."
"Don't be. But I would have liked it better if you stayed in bed with me," I told her, wrapping an arm around her lower back.
"I was just going to make some coffee. I was planning on bringing it back."
"I'll talk to Atlas," I told her. "Get him to go crash somewhere else. You know, like his own fucking place," I added, shaking my head. "See if we can get some more time," I added, already needing to be back inside her, getting those sounds out of her again.
"It's okay if he stays," she insisted.
"No, the fuck it's not," I shot back, getting a smile out of her. "There's extra towels in the closet," I told her, reaching for a pair of sweatpants for myself, slipping them on, reaching for a tee.
Hearing her close herself into the bathroom, I made my way back out to the kitchen, finding Atlas already up and making a pot of coffee.
"Leave."
"Have a heart, bro. I needed some sleep."
"You have an apartment."
"Funny thing about that."
"Christ, what?" I asked, turning back from grabbing mugs.
"All the traveling around, somehow missed the note about how they weren't renewing my lease. Dragged my jet-lagged ass up the stairs, stuck my key in the lock, and nothing. Went down to the super who wasn't a fan of being woken up at one in the morning, and found out what went down. They stored my shit in the storage unit in the basement. Gonna need to get everyone together to move it to an actual storage facility until I can get a new place. Until then, I'm couch surfing, it seems."
"Surf somewhere the fuck else," I suggested.
"You think anyone in this family aren't fucking like bunnies?" he asked, reaching for the creamer. "What's the big deal?"
"The big deal is Katie isn't comfortable with it."
"She's got a place, right? Why don't you guys shack up there for a few days? Weeks?"
"Why don't you shack up at a hotel for a couple days or weeks?" I shot back.
"Crushed, I'm crushed," he declared, pressing a hand to his chest. "She's cute," he said, nodding toward the bathroom.
"Yeah, she is," I agreed.
"Works for Fee, right? I think I've seen her at the office. With big glasses on, covering up that pretty face of hers."
"Yeah," I agreed.
"Going somewhere?" he asked.
"I want it to," I admitted.
"Hm."
"What?" I asked, shooting him a look as she took his cup of coffee and made his way back to his makeshift bed.
"Nothing. Just didn't see you settling down, baby brother," he teased.
"What? Making you feel old and unsettled?" I shot back.
"Please, if anyone was going to make me think wonders never cease, it was going to be Nixon finding someone to love his grumpy ass. You? I get you. She's cool with you doing the phone sex thing?"
"I quit. Before Katie and I started things up," I clarified. "It was time for a change. I'm working with King."
"I'm probably going to be joining you all for a few weeks. Maybe months," he added.
"You never stay any place that long."
"I don't usually fuck up my living situation either. Think I've had more wings than roots lately. I need to get my shit in order again before I head back out. What?"
"Did those writer women fuck some sense into you on that tour?" I asked, getting a wicked smile from him.
"Something like that, I guess," he admitted. "Just need to crash for a while. Get a place. Get some money back in the coffers. Boring-ass grown-up shit," he said, putting his coffee down on the table, reaching for his sketchbook instead, flipping through.