Page 105 of Keep You Close

“You guys should plan something. It’s not too late. Before school starts up again. Even just to take a trip down to Cape May or something for the weekend. I’m sure Tucker would be happy to drive the van down, so it’s extra fun.”

The two of them had started to spend more time together. I wouldn’t quite say they were an item yet, but they were getting closer every day.

I think Ella was cautious because of her ex. And the girls. Though, the girls adored Tuck, so I think that was just her overprotective mama instincts than anything.

And Tuck, well, he wanted to go at her pace.

But they were spending a lot of time together. Going to movies with the girls. Out to eat. Tuck took them all camping at the beginning of the summer.

It was sweet, watching their friendship slowly morph into something infinitely more.

I knew I was all wrapped up in my own haze of love, so I wanted everyone else to be in love too. But these guys were meant to be together, I swear.

“She was just wondering if you’d bring her something back,” Tuck said, coming in from the back room with a wet spot on his leg that was probably from slobber.

“Not just her and the girls. You too,” I said, reaching for his bag, and holding it out to him. “I tried to be conscious of your limited space,” I said. “And got you all sustainable stuff. I’m super excited to be back here tomorrow, so we can catch up, but I have about fifty gift bags to drop off still,” I told them, giving them a hug at the same time, then rushing back out of the building.

By the time I made it back home, it was nearly dark, and Samson was waiting at the door for me, all wiggles and big, sloppy kisses.

Then there was Atlas.

Perched on the couch, a laptop on his thighs, more still than I’d seen him in a month.

I had to say, I never could have anticipated just how sexy it would be to watch this man in action, in his element, but, yeah, Ella wasn’t wrong about all the vacation sex.

I barely let him finish his lessons before I was grabbing him and dragging him back to our rental to have sex until our bodies were too tired to move anymore.

I never understood the concept of a man built for action before. But Atlas was definitely that. It had been amazing to see the transformation of Atlas from being chair-bound for a while with his injuries, to seeing him pop himself up on a surfboard in one smooth, effortless motion, then ride a wave, his muscles flexing and his body moving with nature.

Sure, my own attempts were hilariously pathetic. But Atlas had been a patient, albeit sometimes teasing, teacher, who declared that surfing was simply not going to be my forte.

“Come on, noodle arms, let’s find something else for you to try,” he’d said in the end.

“What’s got you so captivated?” I asked, his eyes glued to the screen as I kicked out of my shoes, dropped my keys, and made my way toward him.

“Remember how you said I could edit and upload the footage of you trying new things on my channel?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

I’d been the cameraman a lot of the time on our vacation, getting as much “B-roll” as possible while Atlas was occupied.

His channel hadn’t gone dead because he’d been down for the count. Luckily, he had lots of old footage that he’d uploaded like it was new, keeping things going while he’d been recovering.

But we’d both been conscious of using the opportunity to get more filming done as we left for our trip.

“Well, sweetheart, it seems like people like you a fuckuva lot more than they like me,” he said, shooting me a smile as he turned the laptop to face me.

He clicked a button, refreshing the video, then stabbed a finger at the screen, showing me the views.

“Two million?” I asked, eyes going round. “That can’t be right.” Not that quickly.

“Oh, it is. And the comments are all people saying they’re in love with you and that they need to see more of you trying new things.”

“No way. I sucked at, like, everything,” I said, shaking my head at the thumbnail of the video he’d uploaded. Me lying on the bright yellow surfboard in the sand in my green one-piece, trying—and failing epically—to try to push myself up to stand like I’d seen Atlas do a hundred effortless times.

“I think that’s what they like. You’re relatable,” he said, scrolling down, and showing me all the gushing comments about me.

My confidence had been climbing since moving to Navesink Bank. It definitely got a boost since getting with Atlas.

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