Page 31 of Claiming Atlas

She squints, then shrugs. “Yeah. I guess so.”

I dry my hands, try in vain to tame a few wild flyaway hairs, then throw some chapstick on my lips and exit the bathroom.

Right into Atlas.

My heart stops. He’s even more gorgeous up close. Dark bangs hang over one eye, but they don’t hide the way his brown eyes see so much more than they should.

I bring my middle finger to the side of my lips. “You have a little lipstick...”

His eyes widen and he brings the sleeve of his black hoodie to his mouth.

I chuckle. “Your girlfriend should be out in a minute.” I go to move past him, but he steps in front of me. I could duck around him—the hallway is wide enough—but he wants to talk to me, and the crazed fangirl trapped inside me right now really wants to know why he’s so dead-set on meeting me. I raise my eyebrows. “Can I help you?”

Right into my bed?

He smiles as though I said that last part out loud.

Holy shit,did I?

“I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you.”

I nod slowly.

“But you’ve turned me down twice now.” He laughs, running his hand through his dark bangs. “That’s a first.”

“And a second. Check your math.” I try to step past him again, but he positions himself more fully in front of me, both of us now pressed against one wall.

He searches my gaze, his dark eyes slightly narrowed. “You don’t like me.”

“I don’t know you.”

His lips twitch. “But you don’t want togetto know me. You made that clear when you refused my invitation.”

I smile, holding up two fingers. “Twice.”

When he grins, his upper lip is slightly crooked, like there’s a scar somewhere I can’t see. I try to pull in a breath without looking like I’m panting even though I can barely breathe with how close he is right now. I drag my gaze back to his eyes, so dark they’re almost black.

He slides his hand over mine, then twines his fingers between the two fingers I had extended and lowers our hands to our sides.

Can’t.

Breathe.

I swallow hard. “I’m here with my friends. I don’t want to be rude to them.”

“Bullshit.” His eyes narrow, but they’re amused, not angry. He slides his free hand over my hip, and I feel the warmth of his skin in every single cell of my body, like he’s lighting me up from within. “Do you know who I am?” He watches me hard, like he’s hoping to gauge the truth in my next words.

“I’m not interested.”Lies. I’m so interested in him that every part of me is tingling right now.

Atlas tilts his head and moves a bit closer. And now I can smell him. FML. It’s like Armani and springtime had a baby and named him Atlas. I want to rub up against him like a cat so I can take that scent with me wherever I go.

“Really?” he asks. “Because I’m pretty sure you’ve been watching me like a hawk.”

I laugh, but it sounds more like a dog with kennel cough.Great. “Me? You’ve been blatantlystaringat me, Atlas—”

He grins triumphantly and I could kick myself.

Shouldkick myself.

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