Page 58 of Atlas
“You might be right. That explains the feminine scarf. I thought that was odd.”
“Are you comfortable?” I asked.
“Mmhh. Are you?”
“I’m fine. Now close those pretty eyes of yours and sleep.”
She was nuzzled up against my chest, and I had my arm around her. I could see a faint smile on her lips, and then she muttered, “Sometimes, I can’t figure out if you’re flirting with me, or I’m a substitute sister, you know, since your sisters live so far away.”
What the fuck do I answer to that?
I tensed up.
“I’m sorry. Just forget I said that.” She closed her eyes and kept quiet while my mind was analyzing the endless answers I could have given her. None of them were any good. She was too perceptive and intelligent for me to lie and say that I interacted with all my female friends like this. The truth was that I’d never been as psychically comfortable with any of the women I’d dated in the past as I was becoming with Jolene. My romantic relationships with women had always been short and without any serious commitment. With Jolene, she was so tactile that placing an arm around her, and holding her hand felt like a natural thing.
It was a good thing that I hadn’t answered her. She wouldn’t want to cuddle up against me, if I said, “I don’t see you as a sister at all. I’m attracted to you and have fantasies about fucking you rough and hard. In fact, I’d like to have five minutes alone with you in the bathroom. Last night I thought about this flight, and envisioned pushing you down on the toilet seat and standing in front of you while enjoying the sight of your pretty lips around my hard cock. In my fantasies, I had both hands fisted into your hair controlling the pace, and loving the sounds of you gagging on my size.”
I closed my eyes, feeling disgusted with myself. Jolene was like a lamb curling up to a wolf without knowing it. With sadness in my heart, I lowered my head and placed a kiss on top of her hair.
She trusted me.
If only I trusted myself.
CHAPTER 14
Dublin
Jolene
Atlas rented a car at the airport and drove us in the direction of Killiney, where Charles and Liv lived.
I soaked everything up on the way, but as we hit congestion on the highway, my mind took off in a different direction.
Atlas had kissed me.
Not on my mouth, but my hair, several times.
The signs were there to conclude that I was important to him; he opened his home to me, said sweet things, and he’d put himself in harm’s way to save my life.
If only I knew how he would categorize our friendship. Was he falling for me the same way I was falling for him?
There were moments when it felt like it, but then at other times, he felt closed off and tense.
Under normal circumstances, I was good at reading people, but with Atlas, I doubted myself because I was very aware that I was biased.
On the plane, I had made a direct comment about my not being sure if he was flirting with me or if I was a substitute sister to him. As I sat in the car and reflected on his mixed signals, I could still feel the disappointment from his rejection. It would have been so easy for him to say something like, “I don’t see you as a sister,” but he never even answered me, and an awkward silence had followed with him being all tensed up.
Taking in a sign above the highway written in both English and Gaelic, I tried to get my excitement back. I was here in Ireland, where I’d wanted to go since I was a teenager. There were castles and ancient history for me to explore.
Still, my mind wouldn’t stop analyzing the situation with Atlas.
What was his interest in me? He hadn’t seemed like the kind of boss who was jovial and trying to make friends with his employees. I sensed that he and Diane went back a long time and had a deep-seated respect and trust between them, but they didn’t socialize outside of work.
And then it came to me. The comment Atlas made a few days ago should have given me a clue earlier. Atlas had told me exactly what his interest in me was about when he said, “As a psychologist, you should know that getting the chance to help someone avoid a crazy person is healing to me.”
My attraction to him had made me not want to listen, but the sad truth was that Atlas had taken an interest in me when I showed him the text message from Velna Zakis.
It all made sense now that I thought about it. Atlas must have felt powerless when he watched his mother and the others die when he was only a teenager. It was inevitable that Atlas carried survivor's guilt, and that would explain why now that he was an adult, he took charge as soon as I involved him. Helping a victim like me could counterbalance his feeling of powerlessness. It also explained why he had such a need to be in control all the time.
