Booktree.ngIt-Starts-with-Us-Colleen-Hoover

“Chicken barbawhat? Did you just completely make up a new
language?”
“I had to say something,” she says defensively. “You stood there like a
lump! You’re welcome.”
I wait a couple of minutes to make sure Ryle has had time to leave. I
walk out front to ensure Ryle’s car is gone. Then I regretfully walk into my
office and head to the supply closet to inform Atlas he’s in the clear. I
exhale before opening the door.
Atlas is waiting patiently, his arms crossed as he leans against a shelf, as
if being hidden in a closet doesn’t bother him in the least.
“I’m so sorry.” I don’t know how many apologies it will take to make up
for what I just asked Atlas to do, but I’m prepared to say it a thousand more
times.
“Is he gone?”
I nod, but rather than exit the closet, Atlas grabs my hand, pulls me in
and closes the door.
Now we’re both in the closet.
The dark closet. But not so dark that I can’t see the flicker in his eyes
that indicates he’s holding back a smile. Maybe he doesn’t absolutely hate
me for this.
He releases my hand, but it’s so cramped in here for the two of us, parts
of him are grazing parts of me. My stomach knots, so I press my back into
the shelf behind me in an attempt not to press into him, but it feels like he’s
draped over me like a warm blanket. He’s so close, I can smell his
shampoo. I very calmly try to breathe through my nerves.
“Well? Can I?” he asks, his voice a whisper.
I have no idea what he’s asking me, but I want to answer with a
confident yes. Rather than blurt out my consent to a question I don’t even
know, I silently count to three. Then I say, “Can you what?”
“Call you tonight.”
Oh. He jumped right back into the conversation we were having out
front, as if Ryle never even interrupted us.
I pull in my bottom lip and bite down on it. I want to say okay because I
want Atlas to call me, but I also want Atlas to know that me hiding him
from Ryle inside of this closet is probably on par with how the rest of our
interactions will go since Ryle is always going to be in the picture,
considering we share a child.