Page 10 of Atlas
My face falls. “W-what?” I laugh at the unexpected words.
“You said if I wanted lists, we would get pens, note cards and tabs, so I’m agreeing.” She shuffles to the end table and grabs her keys. “Come on.”
“Ren,” I rub my hand over my unshaved face. “You are too sick to go out. You look like death.” I see the disappointment in her eyes and an idea hits me. “How about I order the goods to be delivered, and I get us dinner?”
She stares at me skeptically for a moment before nodding. “One condition,” she says while holding her pointer finger up. “We shower while the stuff is on its way.”
Did I just die? Surely having all of the blood coursing through one's body suddenly change direction and dive straight to one's cock with such swiftness and veracity as mine just did would kill you.
I watch as Ren’s eyes go wide and she clasps a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god.” She muffles through her palm.
Trying with everything I have to “turn it on”, I give her my playful grin and step closer to her. “I mean,” I whisper huskily as I waggle my eyebrows suggestively. “My job, no, my duty, no,it would be my honor to please you, my Princess.” I drop to one knee and reach out to grasp her palm. I bring it to my lips and press a kiss to it. Funny. I’ve seen this done on TV and in the theatre countless times. Hell, I’ve even done it. But it’s never felt this intimate.
I hear her breath catch but when I go to look up, Ren has moved back and regained her composure. “I meant,” she huffs, her cheeks still pink. “That I feel gross from being in the hospital, and you look…” Her slender nose scrunches slightly. “Sweaty.” I stand and run a hand through my hair.
“Well, I was at the gym. I gotta keep myself looking like a snack for your viewing pleasure.” Her cheeks get redder and her mouth forms an “O”.
“I don’t ‘view’ you.” She snorts as she avoids my gaze. I playfully bite my lower lip as I take a step towards her.
“Oh Princess, you think I haven’t seen the way your eyes linger over my body?” I whisper as I take another step.
It’s then Ren apparently regains her composure because her lips purse together, and her eyes narrow. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you must be thinking about one of your other girls.” She turns to walk away and I am about to applaud her comeback when I realize she left an open.
“So you admit you’re one of my girls!” She freezes, and her shoulders cringe upwards. I wait for her to admit defeat but instead, Ren turns her head and stares at me, her eyes hot and laser focused.
“Let’s get one thing crystal clear,” she says cooly as she turns to completely face me again. “As long as you havegirlsin your life, I will never be one. I do not share.” And with that, she turns and heads down the hall, leaving me standing in silence with Bruno licking my hand.
“No, I don’t like that.”Ren’s comment makes me want to smack my face into her wall.
“And why this time, Princess?” I say through gritted teeth. Usually I am the one to wear people down, but those people have obviously never been in debate with Lauren Locklear about proper color coding.
“Red and green are Christmas colors - you never alternate those two side by side in a list.” We are two hours in and we have yet to write anything down because“organization and proper color coding are key parts to any and all lists”. If she says no to one more suggestion, I’m going to draw a red and green penis on her face.
“Okay, what wouldyousuggest?” She stares thoughtfully at the markers for a moment while scratching Bruno’s head.
“The blue and the green. They are both positive colors and are similar yet different enough that we can easily differentiate between them.” I blink once and then again.
“Ren… I said blue and green an hour ago.”
“Yeah, but we hadn’t gone through all the possible options to make surethisblue,” She holds up the marker. “Andthisgreen would be the match.”
“I cannot even respond to your lunacy.” I say, shaking my head. “Fine, go on and write your rules down.”
“You write them. Your handwriting is prettier.” Her words send prickles over my skin as I stare at the markers nervously.
“I uhh. I would rather you do it if you don’t care.” I rub my neck nervously as she gives me a skeptical look. “Sorry, it’s just, I’m dyslexic. It’s not going to look as pretty as you think it will.”
“Wait… what?” Ren shifts up from her slouched position on the couch. “You’re a tattoo artist, your script work is well, it’s amazing.”
I smile at her compliment before shrugging. “Spell checks and triple checking with the client and everyone around me. There are definitely people out there with far worse dyslexia than mine. I can still read, sort of. It just takes me a little longer.” I chuckle nervously, feeling a little exposed and maybe embarrassed? My dyslexia isn’t something I talk much about. When I was a kid I was picked on, terribly, by classmates, my siblings, and even my mother. So I kept quiet about it. Now the only people that know are the guys at Hel’s and Ren.
“So anyway,” letting out a breath, I slap on my goofy grin. “Seeing how particular you are with color coding, the last thing I want to do is mess your list up by writing it.”
Ren shoots me a pained look. Is that a look of pity? Oh god it is! My muscles tense as the dark feeling of inadequacy fills me.
She probably thinks I’m an idiot now. This will be the number one reason she says no to this–
My thoughts are interrupted by her taking the marker and beginning the list. “Okay, I’ll write and you tell me anything you want to add. I’ll be blue and your color will be green.”
