4. Chapter 4

RAPHAEL

Atlas looks like a drowned rat, a pitiful ball of cuteness but I bite the laugh threatening to slip out. He keeps throwing me glances beneath those gorgeously long eyelashes as he fidgets with his fingers. Atlas shivers, his gaze frantically looking around the elevator before his eyes glaze over with tears. “Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

He cringes at my question just as I slip off my jacket to wrap around his shoulders. “You’re not mad at me?”

I always think this thing between us is perfect until I stumble upon moments like this, moments when Atlas treats me like a boss rather than a lover. Does he think I’m going to fire him for a mistake? When he takes another step back just as the elevator dings open, I know this isn’t a conversation that’s going to be solved in a few moments. “Atlas, look at me.” I stand in the entryway so that the door doesn’t close, Atlas shuffling into the hallway outside of the lounge. It takes him a few moments to meet my gaze. “I’m not mad at you for an accident. I merely thought changing out of those clothes would be better for you.”

Atlas scoots away from me, out of reach of my jacket. “That would be the second jacket I’ve wrecked and it costs more than-”

A mere look cuts off his words as I glare at him. He keeps bringing up money as if I want more than his attention. As if I’ll ridicule him for a stain or a mistake. It’s just clothing. Just money. Have I not made that clear in the last several months we’ve been together? “A coat can be replaced, Atlas.” I want to draw him into my chest and wrap my arms around him but I have a meeting I can’t miss in less than fifteen minutes. As much as I’d love to shower with my lover, this isn’t the time or place. He also isn’t in the right headspace to enjoy it.

“Sir-” Atlas begins and then bites his bottom lip.

I raise an eyebrow, chuckling. “Unless you want to start something, Atlas, I’d call me by name.”

“Mr. Pierce.”

There’s the cheekiness I was missing. “Atlas.”

“Sorry, Raphael, I’m just a little tired. I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

God, he’s so cute. “I know, little one. I know.” I push him toward the lounge and then toward the showers on the left. No one is in here this late as most of the employees use the gym and showers before their work day starts at 8 am. I point out the towels and the extra scrubs that I have supplied in the lounge for emergencies. “Hand me your clothes and I’ll have them dry-cleaned.”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head rapidly. “No, I can wash them later. It’s fine. Just, no.”

I’m not sure why he’s so adamantly refusing my help but I let him trudge into one of the showers as I wait a few feet away. Atlas will realize soon enough that he didn’t grab a towel or a change of clothes and will have to ask for help. I’m not that cruel, however, and I know that he’s suffered enough embarrassment for the whole day in just a few moments. Gathering what he needs, I place them on the small table just outside his shower. “Towel and change of clothes, Atlas. I’ll be right outside.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, Mr.—Raphael.”

“No, I don’t have to, do I?” I hope he understands that I’m not staying out of obligation. If that were the case, I would demand the dry cleaning bill for the spot of coffee that landed on my shoulder.