Page 12 of Atlas
I have no idea what else he says to the lady because my brain is too busy shorting out. He turns to look at me and cocks his head to one side. “Ready?” He asks and I continue to stare at him dumbly.
Evidently, my brain starts functioning again about the time we get to his Tahoe parked outside. I stop walking once we reach his car and look up into his green eyes. “Atlas, what are we doing?”
“Going to get you a dress.” He says simply while opening the passenger door for me.
“What? Why? It’s not like this is a real wedding. I don’t need a dress.” Something flashes in his eyes, but before I can pinpoint what emotion it is, it’s gone and his neutral smile is in place. Some people,i.e. me, haveRBFor “resting bitch face”. Well, Atlas has a “resting happy face”, it is equal parts adorable and irritating.
“It is a real marriage.” He says as he moves close enough to me that I can smell his masculine scent, woodsy and clean. Not what most would expect this giant tattooed goofball to smell like, but it has always drawn me in. Like a crisp autumn morning in the woods.
“We are going to say our vows, sign a license. This is real, pretty girl.”
Rolling my eyes, I back up closer to the inside of his vehicle. His scent is causing feelings to surface that need to stay buried deep down. “There is no love,” I mutter as I avoid his eyes. “This is a marriage of charity. Nothing more, so you don't have to take me to get a damn dress.”
I go to move away from him and head back inside. So what? My pictures will look shitty, my parents are already going to hate that I had a quickie marriage, my attire won’t matter. A firm hand grabs the back of my shirt and yanks me back. I gasp and instinctively put my hands up over my face before I realize I’ve done it. When I move them, my heart aches.
Atlas looks wounded, like I stabbed him. I watch as the look disappears and morphs into the dark expression I’ve become all too familiar with. “Lauren,” His low tone and the fact that he says my full name sends a shiver through me. “Did you think I was going to hurt you?”
I look from him, back to the chapel, and then back to him. “Atlas,” I plead as I reach out and grab his arm. “Please, just take me to get a dress and forget this.” I try, but the man isn’t falling for it. He backs me against his vehicle and I shiver whenhis hand cups my face. I look from his arm back to his eyes and notice the darkness is gone. His green eyes stare at me with so much warmth and protectiveness, it’s almost overwhelming.
“Pretty girl,” He breathes as his thumb strokes my cheek. “I know you can’t help it. And I’m sorry if what I did scared you. But I promise you, Princess, I will never hurt you. I will never lay a hand on you in anger. And I promise you, no one else will either, understood?”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I look away and then look back at him. “Understood.” I manage weakly.
He gives me a short nod and helps me into the vehicle before he rounds the front and slides into the driver’s side before driving to the nearest dress shop.
“Ren?”Janie’s elbow digging into my side causes me to flinch, breaking me out of my trance. I look up to Atlas, his brows are pulled together in concern. Fuck, I’m not feeling good, is it showing?
“I-I’m sorry, what?” I look from Atlas to the woman performing our ceremony. She has a look of annoyance on her overly tightened face because I dared ask her to repeat herself.
“You may kiss the bride.” She states again, and I watch in horror as Atlas steps forward. I forgot about the kissing! We didn’t practice this! This wasn’t on the list for today! So do I open my mouth? Tongue? Partial open?
Atlas interrupts my thoughts when his soft lips land on mine. I let out an unfortunately audible squeak, causing him to laughagainst my mouth as he places the sweetest chaste kiss on my lips. It’s so gentle, but it awakens something in me. And I know what that something is. It’s the something I’ve been trying to hide, the something I’m trying like fuck to deny, to keep in the fucking box, but this sweet kiss, his soft lips, it’s too much to contain.
As we walk down the makeshift aisle, the four of us make our way to a side room to have our ten photos taken that were included in our package deal. Those cheesy “by the minute” chapels in Vegas have nothing on this place. I can’t help but laugh at the balloons that are half deflated, the obviously fake flowers that look thrown together to hide broken parts and chipping paint on the trellis and my personal favorite, the deep green carpet with blue dots.
I turn to look at Atlas, who looks just as amused as me and can’t help laughing despite how exhausted I’m feeling. What we are all doing, it’s so reckless and ridiculous. It’s something that I would never think in my wildest dreams I would do. Me? Lauren Locklear, marrying Atlas fucking Hart? And for health insurance?? But here we are, his arms around me as the woman snaps the last photo. Thank God for that because I need some cold water on my neck. I'm starting to feel weak and really warm.
I excuse myself to go into the bathroom and change. Once in the restroom, I catch sight of myself in the long mirror, and for a moment I think about how this isn’t the dress that was planned for me. It wasn’t the wedding I had envisioned or planned for in great detail, in a scrapbook that is in a box under my bed. I do feel pretty, though. The cream-colored dress is floor length, off the shoulder flounce with a pretty eyelash lace. When I put it on and showed Atlas, his mouth dropped open, which was definitely a confidence boost.
Sighing, I slip out of the dress, but pause as I feel the familiar dizziness wash over me. Fuck, I left my bag at the apartment andI haven’t placed a new glucose monitor on me since getting out of the hospital.Real fucking smart Lauren.
I take a slow, steadying breath as I feel myself sliding to the floor, my rapidly increasing heart rate is all I can hear and I hope like hell that I am actually calling out for help, but I don’t know if I’m loud enough or not. I weakly slip off my heel and slam it with all my might over and over against the stall.
Of course this would happen. I enter into a fake marriage for health insurance and then I die.
Fucking perfect.
Chapter 5
Atlas
“Icannot believe you are married.” Fox chuckles as he shakes his head.
Shrugging, I lean against the wall in the hallway while the three of us wait for Ren to come out. Janie had mentioned going in there as well, but turns out the bathroom of the wedding chapel is oddly not big enough to hold more than one woman in a dress.
“She needed help. I am in a position to help her. Why wouldn’t I?” Seriously, I don’t get why this is so weird. I care about Ren, I have no one that I’m interested in pursuing as a wife plus, this means I get to share an apartment with the goddess of my dreams, finally win her over and get her to see that I am willing to worship her the way she deserves every single day. Something I'm starting to think has never happened. A disgusting thought, honestly. That woman deserves the best, but she offered to pay half of our wedding bill, and was embarrassed to tell me that the dresses were too small. Seeing her face in the parking lot on the way to buy her dress when I attempted to grab her shirt but missed and got her collar instead, it took everything I had to not break. The fear in hereyes when she cowered in front of me. The hurt and betrayal. Like she thought I was about to beat her. Like someone had beaten her. Hadhegrabbed her like that before hitting her? The thought made my stomach churn. I wanted to ask, but the pleading look in her embarrassed features let me know I needed to let the subject go, for now.
“Man she is taking a–” Fox stops mid-sentence when we all hear it. The incoherent yell and the banging noise. I launch myself off the wall and run full speed into the bathroom. My heart drops as I see Ren on the bathroom floor, her dress half off. She’s still trying to bang her shoe against the stall.
