Page 4 of Atlas
He laughs, nodding. “Honesty, I like that.” His attention is drawn to a buzzing in his suit jacket and he sighs, retrieving it and glancing at the screen. He places it back in his pocket, letting it ring out. It immediately rings a second time, and he gives an apologetic smile.
“You can get that if it’s important,” I say.
“It’s nothing that can’t wait.”
When it rings a third time, he seems agitated, and my suspicions grow. It’s a sixth sense I get when it comes to men. “Take the call,” I say firmly.
“Really, it can wait.”
“I insist.” He eyes me for a second, warring with himself before taking the phone out again and pushing to stand. “Oh, please, take it here.” He gives me another unsure glance, and I smile wide, nodding . . . daring him to answer. When he continues to hesitate, I roll my eyes and push to stand. “I can only assume that your reluctance to answer is because on the other end of that call is a long-suffering girlfriend . . .” I pause, gaging his reaction, and when his eyes dart to the phone, I laugh. “Wife . . . a long-suffering wife.” This time, his eyes stare at the floor, and I grab my bag. “Pathetic.”
“Listen, it’s not what it looks—”
“If you’re about to tell me she’s awful to you and doesn’t understand, save it.” He presses his lips closed. “If she nags . . . if she doesn’t give out . . . then you’re doing something wrong.Youare the problem. Because a woman who’s treated right, she takes care of her man. I suggest you go home and get to the bottom of what you’re doing wrong.” I take a step then turn back. “And start with taking your profile off the dating apps.”
I dump my bag on the bar and slide onto the tall seat. “Another married one?” asks Claire, the barmaid, sliding a vodka my way. I nod, knocking it back and holding it out for a refill. “Bastard.”
“I’m seriously thinking of dropping out of the dating game,” I mutter, tapping my debit card to the card machine.
“Or you could just give in to the biker,” she suggests, wiggling her brows.
I roll my eyes. “Not you as well. Me and Atlas aren’t gonna happen. It’s just fun.”
Chapter Two
Atlas
“It was a no go,” Grizz tells Axel as we step into his office. “The place is too open.”
“You sure?” asks Axel. “I thought it would be ideal.”
“For what exactly?” asks Grizz.
“I called church early. I’ll tell you my plans in there.” He stands, and we follow him from the office.
“I’m your VP, shouldn’t I already know?” mutters Grizz.
We all take our seats and wait for the other members to join us. Pit fist bumps me as he lowers onto the chair beside me. “Tessa wants me to head out after this and look for Nita,” he says quietly so only I can hear.
I frown. “Why?”
“Apparently, Nita hasn’t responded to her texts, and she’s worried.”
“Maybe she’s just busy.” Her words from earlier come back to me. “She said she had something on.”
He sighs heavily. “A date,” he mutters. “She went on a date, and Tessa’s got it in her head that she’s now lying in a ditchsomewhere.” He shakes his head. “I know there’s some weirdos out there, but if I had to check on Anita every single time she went on a date, I’d basically be her personal bodyguard.”
I clench my jaw. I suspected as much, but shit, what’s so wrong with me that she can’t just take what I’m offering? “Sorry, man. Tessa asked me not to tell you, but I’m sick of this bullshit every time she goes off radar. I don’t get why Tessa feels so responsible for her.”
I stand. “She’s a good friend.” I turn to Axel. “Pres, I gotta go. I’ll catch up with shit later?”
He gives a nod, knowing I wouldn’t walk out of church without good reason.
Minutes later, I’m turning my bike into the car park of Angelo’s Bar. It’s her favourite place to come because the staff know her.
The second I push the door open, I wince at the sound of Nita’s singing. And there, on the bar, is the woman I love. Luckily, the place is deserted, with only the barmaid wiping glasses and the doorman sitting on a stool, watching Nita sway with clear amusement. He spots me and stands, shaking my hand. “I was gonna call, Atlas, but she lost her mind when I mentioned you, so I figured you were the reason she’s in this state again.”
I shake my head. “I’ll never be the reason,” I say firmly. “Always call me.” And I pass him a bundle of rolled up notes.
