Atlas tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

I gesture at the room. “What do you do when you get home at night? Pretend I’m not here.”

He regards me silently. Then he walks toward me, pausing right in front of me. He presses a hand onto the wall beside my head and leans in. “Well,” he whispers. “First, I take off my shoes.”

I hear one of his shoes being kicked off, then the other. He’s suddenly an inch lower and even closer to my mouth. He feathers his lips lightly across mine, sending fireworks popping beneath my skin. “Then…” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “I take a shower.” He pushes off the wall and backs away, his eyes locked on mine in a dare.

He disappears into his bedroom.

I’m inhaling a steadying breath when I hear his shower start running. I slip off my shoes and leave them next to his, then I follow the path he took down the hallway. I gently push open the half-closed door and take in his bedroom in person for the first time. I’ve seen it in our video chats, but I didn’t come in here when I came to his house the first time. I recognize his black headboard and the denim-blue accent wall behind it, but the rest of his bedroom is new to me. I pass over everything in search of the bathroom door.

He left it open. His shirt is on the floor by the doorway.

I don’t know why my heart is pounding like it’ll be my first time seeing Atlas without clothes. It’s not like I’m brand-new to this, or him, or even to showering with him. But every time I’m with him, it’s like my heart gets amnesia.

I make it to the doorway of his bathroom, disappointed to see that his shower is hidden behind half of a stone wall. I can hear the breaks and splashes in the shower stream, and I feel a tightening in every curve of my body.

I don’t leave my clothes with his. I stay dressed and slowly make my way over to the shower. I press my back flush against the long wall of his bathroom, and I inch closer to the shower opening, leaning my head in just enough to get a peek at him.

Atlas is standing under the stream of water, his eyes closed, the water coming down directly on his face as he runs his fingers through his hair. I stay quiet and still and continue leaning against the wall while I watch him.

He knows I’m here, but he ignores my presence and allows me to soak up the sight of him. I want to run my hands over the rise and fall of muscles across his shoulders, and I want to kiss the dimples in his lower back. He is absolutely beautiful.

Once he rinses all the soap out of his hair and off his face, he looks toward me. His eyes catch mine, and they narrow. Darken. Then he faces me, my gaze falling, falling…

“Lily.”

My eyes move back up to his, and he’s smirking. Then, so quickly, he strides across the wet tile and yanks me away from the wall until I’m wrapped in his arms. He pulls me into the shower with him, and I gasp from the rush of it all.

He catches my gasp in his mouth as he grips my thighs, pulling my wet-blue-jean-covered legs around him. My back meets the shower wall, taking some of my weight off Atlas so that he can free up a hand.

He uses that free hand to unbutton my shirt.

I use both of mine to help him. We stop kissing long enough for him to lower me to my feet so that he can slip the shirt down my arms. The shirt plops against the shower floor with a small splash just as Atlas’s fingers meet the button on my jeans.

His mouth is hungry and back on mine as he slides his hands between my hips and my panties, tugging my clothes down one difficult inch at a time.

He grips the waistband on the sides of my jeans and lowers himself down my body as he works to slide them off me. Once they’re around my ankles, I help him by kicking them off, then he places his hands on the backs of my calves and slowly works his way back up me.

When he’s fully standing again, his fingers gather behind my back at the clasp of my bra. My stomach clenches as he begins to unfasten it. His mouth finds mine again, but this kiss is gentle and slow, like the removal of this last piece of clothing deserves to be savored.

I feel his hands slide to my shoulders, and then he tucks his fingers beneath the straps and slips them down my arms. My bra begins to fall away from me, and Atlas pulls away from my mouth long enough to admire me. His hand curves over my hip, and then slides over my ass, squeezing me.

I wrap my arms around his neck and slide my lips across his jaw, settling my mouth over his ear. “Then what?”

I watch as chills break out over his arms. He groans, and then lifts me higher up the wall until we’re aligned at the waist. I roll my hips into him, wanting to feel him hard against me, and he meets my movement with a quick thrust, forcing me to gasp. It’s obvious we both want this, but he still looks at me for permission before he takes me right here in the shower. We’ve had the proper conversations about my being on birth control, and both of us having been tested, so I just nod and whisper a desperate “Yes.”

I grip his shoulders tighter in an attempt to take more weight off his arms so that he can position himself to push into me. He uses his left arm to hold me up and his right hand to grip himself, and then he rolls his hips forward and up until I feel the pressure of him inside of me.

He sighs into my neck at the same time I release all the breath in my chest. It comes out like a moan, and that sound encourages Atlas to get that noise out of me again.

My legs are tight around his waist, but he thrusts against me hard enough for them to unlock at the ankles. I start to slip down him, but he hoists me back up and repositions himself until I’m filled with him all over again.

I release another moan, and he rolls into me a second time, and a third time, and it may not be as graceful against a water-soaked shower wall as it is in a bed, but I can’t get enough of the unruly side of him.

He gives me that unruly side of him for several minutes before we’re both too weak and breathless to continue this without the support of a bed. He doesn’t say anything after he pulls out of me and lowers me to my feet. He just turns off the water and then grabs a towel. He starts at my hair, squeezing water out of it with both his hands, and then he slowly works his way down my body with the towel until I’m dry enough. He does a quick swipe of himself with the towel before grabbing my hand and walking me out of the bathroom.

I don’t know how something as simple as him holding my hand on our way to the bedroom can make my heart expand.

Atlas lifts the blanket and motions for me to climb into his bed. It’s so comfortable, it feels like I’m nestling into a cloud. He scoots in next to me, stopping only when he can’t come even a centimeter closer to me. He’s on his side, but he rolls me so that I’m flat on my back, tucked against him.

I like this position. I like the way he’s holding himself up on his elbow, hovering over me. I like the slight grin in his eyes, as if I’m a reward he’s earned.

Atlas lowers himself and we’re no longer easing into these kisses. It’s an immediate deep and hungry kiss that starts with the dive of his tongue and ends with him impressively reaching for a condom and putting it on without interrupting the strength of his kiss. Atlas grips the inside of my thigh and pushes my leg aside to make room for himself.

Then he’s above me, pushing into me, and he moves against me until I find myself in the middle of a beautiful falling apart.

Atlas is on his back on the bed, and I’m curled into him, my leg draped over his thigh. These are the moments I look forward to sharing with him the most. The quiet minutes we get to steal from the chaos of our lives, where it’s just the two of us, satiated, content. My head is resting on his chest, his fingers are trailing back and forth over my arm.

He kisses the top of my head and says, “How long has it been since we ran into each other on the street?”

“Forty days,” I say. I’ve been counting.

He makes a huh sound, like that surprises him.

“Why? Does it feel longer?”

“No, I just wanted to know if you’ve been counting like I have.”

I laugh and press my lips against his skin, right over his heart.

“How were things at the party today?” he asks me. I know what he’s asking without him having to say it. He wants to know how Ryle treated me.

“The party was good. I spoke to Ryle for maybe five seconds.”

“Was he unkind?”

“No. We just stayed out of each other’s way, mostly.”

Atlas runs his fingers through my hair, pulling them through the strands and letting them fall over my back. He takes another handful and repeats the movement. “That’s progress. Hopefully it’ll just get easier from here.”

“Hopefully.” I do hope things between Ryle and I continue to get easier, but I’m no longer letting his reactions control my happiness. I’m all-in with Atlas, and I want to be present in that part of my life. If that makes Ryle upset or uncomfortable, Ryle is going to have to bear the burden of those feelings. “I might ask Allysa to have a sit-down with me and Ryle this week. I want to discuss what happened, and what to do going forward, but I don’t want to discuss it with him alone.”

“That’s smart.”

Ryle and I may never get to a point where we can be more than merely civil. But I’d be okay with civil. What I’m not okay with are the insults, the threatening texts, the outbursts. He’s got a lot of work to do, and I’m finally willing to hold him to task.

I probably should have been firmer earlier on, but I’ve been trying to make it work in the least dramatic way possible. But I’m done bending my own life for Ryle’s sake.