Page 59 of Atlas
I wished my romantic interest in him was reciprocated, but that would have been a long shot, and anyway, my mom was right when she said, “More wants more.” A week ago, Atlas had been my boss, but the extreme events this past week had made us friends. Having someone like Atlas as a friend was a privilege and should be enough. It would be enough!
The crush I’d developed on Atlas after I’d gotten to know him better at the Super Bowl, was something I would have to get over fast. The problem was that after he saved me from Niklavs, my feeling for him had intensified a hundredfold. If I was honest, I was head over heels in love with him. Atlas was complicated and nothing like the easy-going guys I’d dated in the past. But I couldn’t keep my hands off him, and it was getting embarrassing how I couldn’t stop touching him all the time.
When I’d told Atlas that I wasn’t sure if he was flirting with me, I’d hoped he would smile and say something like, “Maybe I am.” But of course, he didn’t, because he wasn’t flirting with me. He was just friendly.
My chest lifted with a sigh, as I rested my elbow on the door of the car, remembering my mother’s words from the time I was twelve and suffered my first round of lovesickness. “Unrequited love is the worst, darling. That’s why it’s called a crush. It literally feels like your heart is being crushed. We’ve all endured it, and all I can tell you is that you’ll get over it.”
She had been right. In time, my interest had shifted to another boy, and life had gone on.
As if someone as amazing as Atlas will ever show up.That thought made me give another heavy sigh.
“How is your head feeling?” Atlas’ question brought me out of my ruminations.
“Fine.”
“It’s the next exit. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Doesn’t it freak you out to drive on the wrong side?”
Atlas chuckled. “If you ask the Irish, they’ll argue they’re driving on the right side.”
“Yeah, well, I’m still happy you’re the one driving. I’d be scared of making a mistake and causing a crash.”
“Don’t worry. I come here often enough that I’m used to it.”
When we pulled up in front of the large house, two men and a woman were standing outside. Atlas lit up in a broad smile at the sight of them. “I didn’t know Kit and Damian would be here. And I thought she had stopped smoking.”
I exited and watched the three come toward us. One of the men, I recognized from my research as Nathan Robertson. He walked straight over to Atlas and lifted him slightly off the ground in a big hug. “It’s good to see you, brother.”
“Same.” Atlas was grinning, and I stood in astonishment of the transformation in him. It was like five years, and a load of worries, had lifted from his spirit just from the sight of these three people.
“What the hell happened to yer face?” the second man asked in a beautiful Irish accent as he and Atlas slapped each other’s shoulders in a manly hug. “Ye used to be the pretty one.”
With little patience, the tall, redhaired woman opened her arms for a hug. “Don’t listen to Damian, I’ve told him all about how ye saved the damsel in distress, and we’re all so proud of ye.”
Damian laughed. “Aye, I heard ye’re the new Batman.”
Atlas rolled his eyes as they all laughed. “Ah, I should have known you would read the article.”
Their laughter was infectious, and I couldn’t help but join in.
“I showed that article to everyone. It’s a proud moment to find out one’s brother is the new vigilante of Chicago, and now that I see your messed-up face, a superhero mask might not be a bad idea. It’s like that guy, fromDeadpool.”
“Shut up, Nathan.” Atlas playfully shoved his shoulder and turned to me. “Everyone, this is Jolene Fisher, whom I’ve told you about.”
Damian was the first to greet me with a firm handshake. Like Nathan, he was tall, fit, and broad-shouldered. “I’m Damian, and this is my sister, Kit. She’s a private detective.”
“Nice to meet you.” I shook her hand.
Atlas smiled. “And Nathan is my brother, but you already guessed that, I’m sure.”
I smiled too and shook Nathan’s hand. “Yes, it was a hint that he called you brother.”
“So, you’re the smart lady who wants to interview me?” Nathan had large brown eyes and a charming smile. His skin tone was tanned, and his hair black.
“I am.” With a short sideways glance at Atlas, I wondered if he was the one who had used the word, “smart” in his description of me to Nathan. I couldn’t help feeling a bit flattered.
“Why are ye getting interviewed?” Damian asked Nathan before turning to me. “Are ye a journalist?”
