Page 87 of Claiming Atlas

She laughs. “Oh, this isn’t Betty’s son, honey.” She stands and approaches me, then holds my shoulders as she looks over my outfit. “Have you showered yet today? It’s nearly four in the afternoon.”

“Oh my God, Mom.” I push out of her arms. Wait,haveI showered? Yes! I have! “Yes, actually, I showered this morning.” So there, Mother.

Mom frowns, then looks at my top pointedly. “Change your shirt.”

“What?” I look down at my old Rolling Stones shirt and hold out my hands. “What’s wrong with this?” I mean, okay, aside from the hole and the completely worn out fabric that showcases my boobs. Fine. I should probably change if I’m going to interact with another actual human.

But if it’s not her Bunco friend’s derpy son, who is it?

Mom shakes her head, then looks at the doorway before she slowly brings her gaze back to me. “He looks like more of a Banging Cade fan.”

I swallow hard as her words knock me back down on my bed.

Her lips twitch as she watches me.

“Mom. That’s not even close to funny.” Not even in the same zip code.

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t keep him waiting long, Kay. He’s really quite good looking.”

“Oh my God, Mom, shhhh. He’ll hear you.”

She laughs, then leaves the room.

What the hell? Is Atlas here? He couldn’t be. I mean, how would he find my mom’s house? He doesn’t even know where I’m from, let alone the house I grew up in.

I stand up quickly.

Google, you fucking idiot.Google could have told him just about everything he needs to know about me. Public record and all that.

Shit.

What is he doing here? What do I do? “Oh my gosh.” I sit back down on the bed because my brain has stopped working. I can’t see him. I definitely can’t see him looking like I’ve been pouting in my room for the entire two weeks since I got back.

Someone raps on my door and it opens slowly, and my breath catches in my throat and every thought I’ve ever had in my brain disappears into nothingness because there he is, standing in my doorway, framed by the too-pink walls of a too-girly room, looking like the Angel of Death in all that black, and holy hell, I’d sell him my soul without a second thought.

Atlas is even more beautiful than I remember.

He licks his lips. “Hi.”

I suck in a shaky breath, then nod.

Can’t. Form. Words.

“Can I come in?”

Oh my God, no.I nod again.

His lips twitch on a smile as he steps inside my childhood bedroom, his gaze never leaving mine. He closes the door behind him, then leans against it. “It’s good to see you, Kayla.” His gaze drops to my chest, and his eyelids get heavy for a second before he looks back up into my eyes, his eyebrows slightly raised. “I think Jagger would approve.”

I cross my arms over this raggedy old shirt and the nipples he just zeroed in on, then try to pretend that gaze didn’t just tighten my belly into a giant knot of desire. “I’m going to kill my mom.”

He laughs. “She seems like a nice enough lady to me.”

My eyes widen and I swallow. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Atlas shrugs. “I just figure that if we’re going to be accomplices for something, there are far better laws to break.” He looks around the room, then brings his gaze back to mine. “Nice room.”

I bark a laugh. Not my sexiest moment. “Lies.”

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