Page 26 of Keep You Close

“That’s a mischievous look,” I said.

“How about we go out to eat?” he suggested.

I felt a little skipping in my heartbeat that I tried to ignore. It wasn’t the first time. Actually, I’d been having it a lot lately. I would have gone to see a doctor about it if I hadn’t realized it only ever happened around Atlas.

Like when his arms went around me when I helped him transfer. Like when we sat side-by-side on the couch, and his arm would brush me.

When he would call me ‘sweetheart.’

“We could do that,” I said, trying not to sound as excited as I felt.

We were closing in on a month of him being back in his house with me. But, somehow, I’d become even more reclusive than I’d been before. I didn’t even go food shopping much because he ordered delivery.

Aside from work, I spent all my time in the house.

While I actually kind of liked being holed up with Atlas, the idea of going out with him was even more exciting.

“I would normally say Famiglia,” he said.

“But all those steps,” I filled in for him, thinking of the big Italian place built on, like, stilts over the Navesink River. It was a gorgeous place I’d fantasized about visiting more than a few times since moving to the area, all the while knowing it was way out of my budget.

“Haven’t been around enough to know of anywhere else,” Atlas admitted.

“We could… drive around and pick a place,” I suggested.

“I like the way you think,” he declared. “Alright. Scoot me to the room. I’m gonna get into something decent.”

I actually liked him in his casual sleep pants and t-shirts.

Did I like it because the tees would sometimes cling to his midsection, and give me the view of abs under there? Or have the material bulge over his biceps?

I mean, I wasn’t proud of it, but yeah.

And as for the pants? Yeah, that part I was really, really not proud of. But, well, you know… sometimes if I would come out at night for a snack or a drink, or if I got up earlier than him, and he was sleeping and having, you know, happy dreams…

Ugh, I felt like a predator for even thinking that, let alone fantasizing about it.

I honestly had never really ever had much of a sex drive in the past, so I didn’t understand why I was suddenly thinking about Atlas in that way.

“Did I lose you?” Atlas asked, shooting me that sweet, boyish smirk.

“Nope. I was just thinking about what I should wear,” I said. And then I was thinking just that. Obsessing, in fact, about it. “You’re not wearing a suit, are you?” I asked.

“Don’t think I could fit one over my cast,” he said.

“Okay. Then I have stuff to wear,” I said, grabbing the back of his chair, and pushing him down the hall.

I wasn’t sure why he insisted on using the office chair in the house since his electric wheelchair was delivered two weeks before.

He used the wheelchair to go out with his family for doctor visits and whatnot. But in the house, he always used the office chair.

I was inclined to believe it was because he was used to being physical, and using the office chair allowed him to use his good leg to scoot around still, get a small bit of exercise.

“Do you need any help?” I asked when he was in the guest room. He still didn’t sleep there, but he kept all his clothes and personal items in it, so he didn’t clutter up the living room.

This time, his smirk wasn’t quite so sweet and boyish, and was a lot more devilish. “Wouldn’t mind you undressing me, sweetheart,” he said, and there was that little skipping beat again, “but I can manage.”

“Okay,” I said, wondering if my face looked as heated as it felt. “I’m right across the hall if you change your mind,” I said, then rushed into my room, and closed the door, leaning against it until my heartbeat went back to a normal rhythm.

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