Page 15 of Rulebreaker (Gamebreakers #4)

FIFTEEN

Atlas

“Well, then,” Briar says as she pushes to her feet, “that’s everything on my list so I’m going to head out of here.”

I flick my eyes to the clock on my desktop. “Is Frankie sick?”

“No,” she replies with–what I don’t miss–is a slightly edgy tone.

Hmm.

“Does she have an appointment?”

“Nope.” Briar starts moving to the door.

“Some event at her preschool I forgot about?”

A shake of her head.

“Am I working you too hard?”

She laughs. “We all work too hard, but you know the moment that you tried to push me too hard, I’d tell you…” A shrug. “Either that or sic the guys on you.”

“You could try,” I say, finding my feet and rounding the desk, also not missing that she’s inching toward the door .

To end this conversation.

Hmm again.

“West,” I say and she freezes–holy shit–her cheeks going the slightest bit pink.

She’s blushing.

Over a man.

And I simultaneously want to commit murder and pump her for details.

My little sister in all but blood is interested in a man –something that never happens. Or well, it’s obviously happened because Briar had Frankie, but as far as I know, it hasn’t happened since Frankie.

As in, I’ve seen plenty of men express interest in her.

And she’s shot down each and every one.

Except for West, apparently.

My mouth hitches up. Hockey players. Why do they always get pussy?

And I mean that as a former player–because once a pussy magnet, always a pussy magnet.

Ha.

And that’s a thought I’ll never allow to escape my lips–mostly because Briar would not delay in putting me in my place…and also because it took me far too much time to get Lily to open up.

A modicum.

Because I’m far from inside those ironclad shields.

Every tidbit I glean, every smile, every time I get something real from her, something that isn’t just sex–and I’m not complaining about the sex, I just…never thought it wouldn’t be enough for me.

Sex. Orgasms. Goodbye.

With Lily, I want the sex, the orgasms, and…I want what Royal and Jade have, and Dash and Willow, and Banks and As pen.

And maybe Briar and West?

“I thought you always said you’d never fall for a hockey player,” I tease, pushing down the blip of fear that bubbles up in my chest when I think that maybe–just maybe–I could be part of Lily and Atlas.

“Stop,” she says. “We’ve gone on a couple of dates. I’m hardly falling for him.”

Another blip–because I’m certainly falling, though luckily not for a hockey player.

Just a gorgeous, talented, smart, wickedly funny pop star.

“I don’t know,” I tease, shoving down more blips of fear.

More worries.

More longing.

“Don’t know what?”

I wave a hand at her face. “Pink cheeks. Sneaking out of work early…” I shrug. “Seems like falling to me.”

She glares at me. “Seriously?”

I shrug innocently. “What?”

Her glower intensifies, not buying that innocence in the least. “You seriously want to do this?”

“Do what?”

A sigh. A shake of her head. “Okay,” she says, leaning back against the wall near the door, mouth curving, “then I suppose we’re going to discuss Lily?—”

My heart spasms.

“And why you keep sneaking out yourself.” It’s not an accusation. But it is pointed.

I suck in a breath.

“That’s exactly what I thought,” she says, chin lifting. “So unless you want to give me the scoop on Lily, I’d back off.”

Normally, I’d shut this shit down.

I don’t talk about this stuff. Don’t open up.

I help my family.

But I don’t accept it. I’m an iceberg floating in the ocean, solitary floating along the surface, everything below perfectly contained in the cold, dark waters–just like I like it.

Except today…Briar’s words unstick something inside me.

And I find myself saying, “I like her, what else is there to say?”

Her brows fly up. “You like her?”

“I think that’s been obvious for a while, don’t you?”

“I mean”—her mouth twitches—“there is the whole running into doors thing.”

Christ. I’d blocked that from memory.

“And that time you wore jeans and a T-shirt.”

I grit my teeth together, stifle my shudder.

“And the whole stuttering, awkward conversational gambits.”

Fucking hell. How have I lost control of this conversation so quickly?

Briar’s smile widens, as though she plucked that thought from my mind.

“Briar,” I warn.

She just grins. “And when you?—”

“Should I do a full background check on West?” I ask pointedly. “Or a superficial one?”

Her smile flattens out and she narrows her eyes. “I’ve already warned you about background checking my dates.”

I just hold her stare.

For long enough that she sighs, a beleaguered expression taking over her face. “It doesn’t matter how big of a hissy fit I throw, does it? West is still going to get a background check, isn’t he?”

More staring.

More sighing .

Then she shakes her head. “Well,” she says, the slightest bit of humor sliding into her words, “if it’s not you then it would be Dash.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “He’s pretty distracted with Willow.”

She smiles again and this time it’s filled with sisterly affection. “I’m glad he’s found her. They’re perfect for each other.”

“Yeah,” I agree, but I say it while I’m trying to stifle my jealousy.

“And I think Lily is perfect for you.”

I suck in a breath. “Thorny,” I begin.

She walks over to me, lifts on tiptoe, and presses her lips to my jaw. “You deserve to be happy.” She drops back down, eyes growing serious. “Even though I know every part of you is telling you that being alone is safer.”

“Bri—”

“Be brave,” she murmurs. “For both of you.” Her gaze holds mine for long enough for those words to sink in then she turns and heads for the door. “Because I think the shadows in Lily’s eyes mean she’s going to have to be dragged, kicking and screaming, toward any semblance of a happily ever after.”

“I—”

Another pointed glance over her shoulder. “Fight for her, Atlas.” A beat. “And yourself.”

I suck in a breath, but then she’s gone, the door swinging closed behind her, leaving me alone with nothing to keep me company…

Nothing, at least, until my phone buzzes with a text that sends my heart thudding hard against my ribs.

LILY: I’m in LA, come to my hotel.

She’s in town and she wants me to come to her hotel? My first instinct, is fuck yes, I’m finally getting somewhere.

My next is…fuck that.

Because the sex part is easy…and also, the sex means that she gets to leave that hand up, its palm out, purposefully keeping me at a distance.

So, instead, I send a different message.

ATLAS: No, Texas. I’m just leaving the office. You come to my place.

LILY: My bed is comfy and we can order room service.

ATLAS: I have this thing called a kitchen…and I even cook in it. And my mattress is so good that you’ll never want to sleep on anything else.

Or hopefully, with anyone else.

There’s a long pause.

Long enough that my fingers start tapping on my cell’s screen again, that I send another message to prod her along, to goad her into accepting instead of finding another way to push me away.

ATLAS: Come on now, Texas. Are you too chicken to critique a billionaire’s interior decorating skills?

LILY: You said you didn’t pick anything out at your house.

ATLAS: I picked ONE thing out.

LILY: What’s that?

ATLAS: The sheets .

I hold my breath. I don’t want to be talking about my mattress, my sheets, my bed.

I want more pieces of her, to figure out how to peel back all that armor, for her to let me inside.

I just… want more .

And I get it—at least today, at least in this way.

LILY: Fine. Send me your address.

I text it over.

Then wait, my lungs protesting as I’m practically holding my breath. Hoping. Wanting .

At least until she texts again.

Then I’m grinning.

LILY: I’ll be there in an hour.