He shrugs. “Curious, I guess. You retired, and you’re moving back home, right?”
I nod, pulling my lip between my teeth.
“When?”
“This week.”Monday.
He closes his eyes and nods.
“Your tour’s over soon, right? Where will you go?” I trail my fingers over the compass tattoo on his chest.
He shrugs, but doesn’t open his eyes.
“Where’s home, Atlas?”
He pins me with dark eyes that are somehow even darker than before. “I don’t have one.”
I take a deep breath and his scent curls around my brain, my heart, emotion thickening in my throat. I don’t know what to say, so I tuck my head back into the crook of his arm.
I don’t want to say goodbye to him.
This wasn’t quite the mistake I thought it would be, but my heart already hurts worse than I imagined it would. I figured I’d get a one-night stand and an empty bed in the morning. I assumed he’d ruin my image of him with some rude remark or a blow off. Like, maybe we’d have sex and then he’d call me the wrong name, or have some other girl waiting outside the room for me to leave. At the very least, he’d be lousy in bed, selfish, immature...
He’s none of those things.
I sigh.
“Hey, hey, what’s going on in there now?” Atlas pulls back to look at me, tilting my head up with his thumb on my chin. He searches my gaze.
I chew on my bottom lip. Should I just be honest? That’s an innovative approach, right? Who’s honest with people they take home from a bar for a one-night stand?
“Kayla, come on. What is it?”
With his brows furrowed like that, he almost looks concerned, like, really concerned, like he actually cares.
Does he?
I take a deep breath. It doesn’t even matter, since we’re saying goodbye soon anyway. “I thought you’d be different.”
He winces. “Ouch.”
“No, oh my God, no, Atlas, that’s not what I meant.”
He laughs. “I fucking hope not. You’re going to ruin my sky-high confidence after just one weekend with me?”
I shake my head, laughing at the absurdity of that statement. “I don’t think anyone could ruin your confidence.”
His expression falls as he holds my gaze for a few long seconds. “You could.”
I swallow the thickness in my throat. “Atlas...” I shake my head. “Don’t.”
He sighs and lays his head back on the pillow. “You’re right.” He closes his eyes and I realize there’s no point in saying anything else. I could tell him he far surpassed my expectations of him. I could tell him he’s so much more than just some famous guy in a band. I could tell him he’s so much more than every tabloid story ever written about him. I could tell him that in the short time we’ve spent together, I don’t have to know all of the secrets hidden behind those dark eyes to know that they’re deep, thathe’sdeep.
But I lie back on the pillow and stare up at the ceiling while everything I want to say to Atlas gets eclipsed by the fact that nothing I say will matter. Because I can’t have feelings for him and he probably doesn’t have feelings for me, and even if we both had feelings, what difference would that make?
I’ll never see him again—
He rolls over quickly, stretching out on top of me before I can even finish that thought.