Page 22 of Fool Me

“Yep. She locked eyes with me, and I turned around and left—got back in my car and drove the six hours back to school in Sheridan. I never came back.”

“Jesus,” I mumble. What do I even say to that?

“Now I’m just supposed to live in the same town as him and act like all of that didn’t happen because the rumor mill here is a bitch. Maybe this was dumb and I should have stayed in Houston, but I couldn’t do that to Ray. Plus, my parents are here and they’re getting older.” He rolls the bottom of his empty glass against the bar top. “This is where I want to be.”

“And now you’re here, and the last thing you need is everyone talking about your past when you’re trying to build a life here.”

“Pretty much.”

“And you never sold him out, or told anyone why you left? Not even your parents?”

He licks his lips. “They know enough—about the prank with my car, that I caught him with pills, but at nineteen I wasn’t eager to tell them my girlfriend, who wanted to wait for marriage, was fucking their other son behind my back. I was hurt and angry, but I was also embarrassed.”

Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a fun conversation.

Cheers come from the loud group of guys behind us, and I turn around just enough to see Canyon over Atlas’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. The last thing either of us need right now is to deal with my ex. The space between Atlas and me dwindled during his story, so much so that my knees are bumping against his thighs. It looks intimate, like two people who know each other better than we do.

Canyon grins widely when he spots me, like he thinks I’m as much his as the job he’s come back to claim. No fucking way. Atlas’s back is still to his brother and I’m sure that if he knew who I was sitting with, the smarmy smile would slide off his face.

I make a decision that might be as reckless as the man across the bar, but I can’t stand the idea of Atlas having to face his brother alone after that confession united us against our common enemy. Neither of us wants people gossiping about our past. And a future—a narrative we can control—wouldn’t be so bad.

Or that’s what I tell myself as I slide off the stool. My hand travels over Atlas’s strong shoulder and across his chest. I bring my lips to his ear and whisper, “Sorry for this, but unless you stop me, I’m going to kiss the hell out of you now.”

His eyes go wide and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. He gives me the smallest nod and I don’t think twice, covering his mouth with mine. His hand is in my hair in an instant, pulling me to him, dragging his tongue over the seam of my lips. I melt into him because this kiss doesn’t feel like a ploy. It races through me from where our mouths are connected, to the spot where his hand landed on my hip, squeezing it, to the tips of my toes, curling inside my sandals.

A low groan rumbles from his throat, and I capture it with my mouth. He tastes like bourbon and honey, and kissing him feels like a risk I’d take over and over again. Together we spin further out of control, barreling toward indecent. The noise of the barfilters in over the pounding of my heart and I pull back, pressing my lips to his one last time before I rest my forehead against his temple.

“Don’t look, but your brother is right behind us.” My voice is raspy and breathless. That kiss has my brain scrambled and I’m having a hard time remembering why it seemed like a good idea because now that I know what kissing Atlas feels like, not doing it every chance I get is going to be impossible.

“You kissed me to make my brother jealous.”

“No,” I assert, not giving him an inch of space. “I kissed you because we both have the same problem: Canyon’s back and it can fuck things up for both of us. Neither of us should have to do this alone.”

“So, you, what? You want to team up to run my brother out of town?”

“We’re taking back the power he took from us. Instead of people talking about the past—why you left, speculation about how him being back might affect me—we can give them something else to talk about.”

“Like me kissing my brother’s ex in a bar.”

“What if it was more than just a kiss?”

Canyon is halfway across the bar now, making his way toward us. Atlas could tell me this is crazy and make me look like a fool, but I don’t think he will.

“What if we pretend to be dating? Give people something to talk about other than how you run your clinic, why you left, and how I’m feeling about Canyon being back.”

“It would certainly send a message.” Atlas scratches his jaw, his other hand wrapping around my waist, bringing me closer. “Where is he?”

“About halfway across the bar. He saw me, but I don’t think he knows the man I just kissed is you.”

“We can’t have that.” The corner of his lip tilts up, making him look a little unhinged, like maybe I got in over my head without realizing it. “Hey, Jude, can we close out?” he asks.

My stomach turns into a pit, rejection settling in it. “You’re leaving?”

“No, Clover,we’releaving.” He takes his card back from Jude, standing and sliding it back into his wallet before he threads our hands together and leads me through the bar. A thrill runs up my spine, but I can’t decide if it’s from the contact, the way he takes charge, or the nickname. Either way, it leaves me following him like a puppy dog.

Canyon looks mad enough to spit bullets when he spots Atlas with his hand in mine. Atlas doesn’t miss a beat, tugging me closer and slipping a hand around my waist as we pass without a word or second glance.

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