Page 6 of Atlas Uncharted

There was something in his tone, something that curled around the words like they were meant in a different way. I kept my eyes trained on the pancakes, flipping one over with a little more force than necessary.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, my voice tight but steady. “Made enough for everyone. Have a seat. I’ll fix you a plate.”

But he didn’t move. He stood there, hovering too close, and I could feel his breath like static on the back of my neck. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him again, not with his chest bare and the smell of fresh soap curling into my senses. My hands kept working on autopilot, but my brain was buzzing, torn between pretending that his closeness meant nothing and acknowledging that it absolutely did.

Just as I was about to crack—maybe drop the spatula, yell at him, or say something that would embarrass me for life—I heard movement behind us.

I knew it was Mike waking up, coming out from under the covers we’d shared, without having to look. We hadn’t done much more than talk and fool around last night. But I was ready for more.

I turned from the stove. Atlas’s eyes left me and landed on Mike. He took a step away from me.

Mike yawned, stretching his arms over his head.

Atlas’s face shifted into a sneer. I felt him folding himself inward.

I felt like I had been caught mid-act of doing something wrong, even though I had done nothing wrong.

I dropped my eyes.

Ashlen stumbled into the room, rubbing her eyes, her hair a riot of red curls. “You cooked bacon? Is there enough for me?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice too bright. “I made plenty for everyone.”

Ashlen made her way to Atlas, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into him.

Mike dragged himself up from the floor and made his way to the bathroom, wearing a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. It’s what he’d shown up in at two in the morning after I’d sent him a “what’s up” text. He didn’t speak until he came out of the bathroom.

We all gathered around the small kitchen table, our plates piled high with pancakes, bacon, and eggs. It should’ve felt normal—four people eating breakfast together—but there was a tension threaded into the air that I think only Atlas and I could feel. Atlas barely touched his food, his expression getting more sour by the second, while Ashlen chattered away, oblivious. Mike was quiet but warm, massaging my thigh under the table while he stuffed his mouth.

I kept my head down, focused on my plate, trying to ignore the weight of Atlas’s gaze whenever it drifted in my direction. I didn’t look up, not once.

After breakfast, I walked Mike to the door. He turned to me, his fingers grazing my arm. "You good?" he asked, voice low.

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for coming over."

His lips twitched like he was debating saying more, but he let it go. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before stepping back. "I'll text you later."

I nodded again, watching him walk off down the hall. I took a deep breath, smoothing my hands down my shorts before turning back toward the apartment.

Atlas was standing in the middle of the living room, watching me. His arms were crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable—but there was something simmering just beneath the surface. He looked pissed.

His lips parted like he was about to say something, but before he could, Ashlen came sauntering out of the bedroom, her voice cutting through the moment.

"Atlas, come on," she whined, grabbing his hand and tugging him back toward the room. "I need you, baby."

He didn’t resist. But he didn’t look away from me either.

And then, he was gone.

I stood there, staring at the empty space where he had just been, my pulse hammering against my ribs.

I exhaled, turned, and locked the door behind me, dismissing thoughts of him altogether.

Whatever Atlas’s game was, I wasn’t playing.

Chapter 5

Kairi

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