Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
And then tell her everything about me in return.
Except I can’t do that.
My heart is like a stone in my chest as I locate my boxers and pull them on. Too late, I realize I should have checked them. Something of the ultra-prickly variety jabs me in the ass, and when I shriek and tug the boxers off, I see that they’re lined with burrs—the whole freaking entirety of them.
And well, if that isn’t just what I deserve for being a lying liar pants, I don’t know what is.
I have to tell her. And I have to tell her soon. Everything. I have to let her decide because for me, a guy who only ever wanted to be with my family, doing what we were doing, I can see myself giving it all up if she doesn’t want it. I just hope she can forgive me. That she will want to keep getting to know me, I can still take her out on dates, and I don’t lose her before we’ve even fully gotten a chance to get to know each other.
I shake my boxers out and slip them on. A few burrs still remain, but whatever. As I said, I deserve a little bit of penance at the moment.
On top of everything, I still have to figure out a way to make things right with my family.
What are a few burrs in the bonnet compared with all that?
“Atlas? Are you okay? Did you get possible poison ivy in your butt too?”
Victoria is so genuinely concerned that it makes the stone that is my heart just a little bit heavier. “Yeah,” I whisper, trying not to act guilty. “I mean, no. I don’t think I got any possible poison ivy anywhere.” Am I alright? Not even close. I don’t want this to end, but is it even real when Victoria doesn’t know who I really am?
The radiant, pure, lovely, angelic smile she gives me makes me feel like the turdiest turd in the shed. Not that turds would be in a shed, but you know.
“I’m really happy!” she exclaims. “Thank you for this night. It was perfect.” I can tell by the naked honesty in her expression and the soft cadence of her voice that for her, somehow, miraculously, it was. Perfect, I mean.
How can I tell this woman that she’s already starting to own my everything?
I smile back at her while my chest aches and my sinuses burn.
She can’t know the fact that, on my end, it was far from it. What did I think? That I could just do this and banish the guilt, and everything would work itself out and be fine and dandy? If only Granny could see me now—or rather, if she could see me twenty minutes from now, dressed and decent, shudder, brain, shudder at that thought—she would never go the I told you so route or the you should have listened to your old Granny route. She’d go the how can we fix it route.
Isn’t that just the question? How can I possibly fix all this?
I know I can’t do it by taking her into my arms and peppering the top of her head with kisses, but I can’t help gathering her up, drawing her close, and doing it all the same. She melts against me, letting out the sweetest, softest sighs in the whole world. I know I can’t do it by holding her against me and just imparting how much I’d like to give her true, wonderful, joyful perfection and how I’d like it to be just her and me, Atlas and Victoria, simple and easy. Instead, all I can do is channel it into my eyes, everything I feel, and hope she can read it there right before I kiss her sweet lips again. I can only hope she knows that I feel this, this flood of sensation, with every bit of my being. Every single bit. Every part of me that I have to offer her. I know it’s not enough, not nearly, but maybe, just maybe, something magical will happen. We’ve already been drawn together, and I think that was pure magic, even if some people would just call it a contrived coincidence, so I’m not giving up hope yet.
Not even close.
I’m Atlas, and right now, that name has never been more apt because I’m carrying around the weight of the entire world. I have to fix this. I’m going to fix this. There is no other option.
I know I’m going to have to fight for Victoria, for us, for this, and fight, I will.
CHAPTER 15
Victoria
They’re here!
After my slightly obnoxious, slightly put out, a little bit of rubbing it in their faces, and a heck of a lot of immature texts that I sent before turning off my phone, my parents were more than eager to come out and see what the heck happened to the house that was once a dump but now looks like a sweet, charming, little country palace.