Page 5 of Atlas
Atlas is the happy, easy-going guy of the group of men that make upHel’s Ink.I am a frequent customer, legal advice giverand… let’s be honest, Ihada major-major-crush on Atlas for like, two years. Not that he ever looked my way, even once by accident. But Atlas is goofy, excitable, a showoff, the jokester of the shop. Everyone is his best friend, and he always has a smile on his perfectly angled, scruffy face. So when he looked into my eyes and I saw a darkness in his that I didn’t know existed, I was taken aback. And when he stood up and walked into my space, I realized for the first time just how massive he is.
I’m a bigger girl. At five foot eight, and purchasing my clothes from the plus size section, I am used to not feeling small, but at that moment, Atlas’ six foot three, heavily sculpted body made me feel so small and frail. And when he growled for me to go to the outdoor patio of the bar, in such a low, almost primal tone, I couldn’t do anything besides nod and numbly follow him out there.
Growing up the way I did, the eldest sibling, plus size, type one diabetic, law school, I’ve learned tosuck it up,shove my emotions down and push through whatever I was feeling. But when Atlas looked at me, when his strong hand caressed my face. I felt every wall I’ve spent twenty-nine years building begin to crumble.
“Hello Lauren,” I jump as my mother's clipped, no-nonsense voice startles me out of my thoughts. I stare at the fair woman standing in front of the glass door, phone to her ear. My mother, Dr. Melonie Locklear, is known in the hospital as the ice queen. Tall and slim with pale blonde hair, high cheekbones, steel-grey eyes and zero smile lines.
“Hey mom,” I give her a small smile that she doesn’t return as she looks over her tablet, business as usual.
“Your sugars are finally stabilizing again. I know you like your monitor, but I want you to do finger pricks for at least a few days after you leave, so you know for sure that it is accurately reading your levels.” I stop myself from rolling my eyes. Mymother isn’t the biggest fan of new medical technology, and she doesn’t trust most of it. For a long time, I found it odd that she was so against the newest developments in modern medicine, especially with her being the head of a teaching hospital, but my dad made a good point. While she does see the benefits, she also sees what happens when it all goes horribly wrong. So, for her sake, I try my best to smile and nod like always. Needing to be the good girl and the dutiful daughter.
“You haven’t had a fever in the last twenty-four hours,” she tells me, as if I didn’t know. “And your urine output looks satisfactory.”Swell. Can you have the nurse rip the catheter out now?“Stay here again tonight and as long as your levels continue improving and stabilizing, I’ll talk with your endocrinologist and I’m sure he will discharge you in the morning.”Of course he will. She trained him, she is his boss. I am only in this glass viewing room instead of a regular hospital room because she ordered it.
“Can I start peeing on my own now? Eating some real food maybe?” I mutter the last part as I didn’t want to get into the diet portion of our typical conversations. My mother is, for the most part, relatively calm about my size and has come to my defense on multiple occasions due to the fat phobia in medical settings. No matter my ailment, a doctor’s advice has been tolose weight.That included my type one diabetes, which haszeroto do with my weight. But, I am plus size and if you are plus size, regardless of your symptoms, losing fifty pounds wouldn’t hurt.
That being said, my mother is still a woman that feels a size six is the only acceptable size and you never finish your plate, no desserts and when out, it is a salad and water.
“I’ll talk with your doctor about allowing a few options for you to eat.” She says sharply while tapping on her tablet. “I’ll also send a nurse in to remove your catheter. I have to go scrub in for surgery, so I may not be back until later tonight.” Forthe first time since this conversation started, my mother looks up and stares into the room. “What is all of this?” She asks, gesturing to the floral shop in my room.
Shit. If I tell her it’s a guy, she will demand a complete rundown, and I can’t handle that. I smile lightly and shrug. “The girls thought they were being funny. I’m just going to have the nurses take them to another floor once I’m discharged.” Mother nods and looks back down at her tablet before turning and walking away.
Guess that was the end of our chat.
Chewing on my bottom lip,I stare at Atlas’ last text. I must have gotten eighty from him that I’ve never responded to. I always wanted to, and… I still do. The problem at first was, he wouldn’t tell anyone the truth about what happened that night, and I didn’t want anything I said to get back and screw up the case for him, it’s very common to want to see text message records and I thought if I kept quiet, it could only help his case. Then it morphed into embarrassment. Embarrassment that he saw me cry, that he felt the need to do what he did, that he went to jail for me and kept my name out of it. But the real reason I became so embarrassed was, he knew that I was being abused and allowed it to continue. No one knew at that time. Not my girlfriends, not my parents, no one. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I am not someone that ever took shit from anyone, but Andrew had me over a barrel. He was…is…my boss. When I got my promotion, I thought it was because of my job performance, but I was wrong. It was because he wanted me. And when he gotme promoted, he made it very clear that the moment I decided not to date him anymore, my career would be over.
I didn’t believe him at first. I can recall the first time he said it, I laughed because I truly believed he was joking. But something nagged at me and after a week or so, I looked into him and noticed the rather long list of female lawyers that had held my current position, and the fact that they all tended to end up fired at his firm. I should’ve said fuck it and left then, but I didn’t because he had been nothing but nice to me. Then one night, after a cocktail party with his colleagues, he insisted that someone had been flirting with me. I laughed and brushed it off because there was no way that was true, the man in question had only said “good evening” to me. Andrew flew into a fit of rage that ended in bruises,himsobbing, and then his sliding on top and inside of me.
I shake my head, needing to think aboutanythingelse besides what I allowed that man to do to me.
Letting out a breath, I tap on the icon to call Atlas, but cuss when I realize I hit the FaceTime button instead. Before I can hangup, Atlas answers. I see his massive smile appear and his green eyes sparkle as they crinkle at the edges.
“Oh my god,” I groan when I see myself on the screen. I put my phone on the table so that it faces the ceiling. “I meant to call you, but I hit the wrong button.”
“Ohhhhh no no no…” I hear him moving, but I don’t dare look at the screen. “You get that beautiful face back here!”
I try not to allow his words to affect me, but they do, like always. Atlas is a charismatic man, and… well, a shameless flirt. I think he gets off on it, so one has to learn fast to not take him seriously because in two minutes he’ll be talking the same way to your grandma. The problem is, I know all of this, but my body still likes to react as if it thinks he means it. Case in point, my face is on fire right now.
I slowly bring the phone back to my face and I stare at him through my lashes while keeping my head somewhat down. I notice him looking at me and…I feel naked all of a sudden. His eyes change and his goofy, flirty grin is replaced with a small, soft smile.
“There’s my beautiful Princess.”Princess.He’s called me that only a couple of times and every time I hear it, well, it’s probably my absolute favorite nickname ever, not that I’ll tell him that. “Man,” Atlas breathes out, shaking his head and his goofy grin is back. “I might need to come join you at the hospital. Your face has my heart pounding every which way.”
“Stop…” I groan as I roll my head back. “I didn’t call you so you could practice your cheesy pickup lines on me.”
He smacks his hand over his chest and scoffs. “Ren….you wound me! To think I would use you as practice?” He gives me a smirk and a wink. “Like I need practice, anyway. You know I am the panty dropper in this city.”
“You’re a pig.” I can’t help but laugh though, as I cross my arms. “Does calling the girls Princess actually work?”
He raises a dark brow and I hear a can crack open right before he takes a sip of his energy drink.Really? It’s nine pm.Though the shop is open until eleven and it looks like he’s in the break room. “What do you mean?” He asks.
“Do the girls eat it up, fall in love with you, and rip their clothes off when you call them Princess?” I can’t help the smile that pulls at me as he laughs loudly.
“Well,” He turns his intense stare towards me. “I don’t know, you’re my only Princess. So tell me Ren, are you falling in love with me?”
I open and close my mouth several times before huffing. “Not a chance in hell, bud.”
Holding his index finger up, he smirks and arches one brow. “Not a chance in hell,yet.I can be pretty persistent and when that doesn’t work, I’m a master at wearing people down.”
Rolling my eyes, I drop my head in my hand. “ANYWAY. Did you really buy out the main lobby gift shop?”
