7. Chapter 7

ATLAS

A full day of work and classes makes Atlas a very dull boy. I laugh at my pitiful joke despite the test that I aced. The day has only gone from worse to hellish when I find out that my car won’t start. Again. With only a few minutes of charge left on my laptop, there’s nothing else to do than crawl into the back and sleep. The last bus left an hour ago and the few dollars I have in my back pocket need to be saved for food. Otherwise, I’d call an Uber to take me to the shelter.

Even then, there’s no guarantee that there’s any room.

My phone buzzes as I grab my blanket and crawl into the backseat to set up a makeshift bed. As short as I am, I can curl up pretty nicely.

Hey, sweetheart. I just wanted to wish you a good night.

A smile overtakes my face at Raphael’s sweetness as I text him back.

Thank you. You too.

I hope I’m not overstepping but Heather let slip that you haven’t been eating.

Are you alright? Are you sick? Do you need help?

Tears gather at the corners of my eyes as I curl up tighter beneath my blanket. I know Heather didn’t mean to say anything and seeing Raphael’s reaction gives me hope.

I’m okay. Can we talk tomorrow? I’m really tired.

Three dots wiggle on the screen for several seconds and I hope I’m not about to read a sermon. The dots stop and then wiggle some more before it’s just:

Goodnight, little one.

Raphael wants to say more. I know he does but I love the hell out of him for giving me the space I need. Until tomorrow.

Sleep consumes me until a clanking on my window soon drags me out of my slumber. I shoot up, panicked, clutching the blanket to my chest to find the sound when it’s paired with a flashlight shining inside the car. Scrambling to open the back door, I peer out to see one of the building’s guards standing there. He’s much older than most of them—Lance, if I remember correctly—but very sweet and I sneak him a coffee now and then when he comes into the café.

“Ye-es?” I whisper.

“Why are you sleeping in your car, Atlas?”

I cringe at the command in his voice as I sink back onto the seat and pull my knees against my chest. “Waiting for a tow and then I fell asleep. I missed the call so I’ll have to try tomorrow.” Lies come too easily when I’m trying to hide the state of my affairs. It’s too bad that Lance doesn’t believe it for a second.

“Your car has been here for the better part of three days. I can call one for you and they’ll pick it up in the next hour.”

I jump to my feet, waving my hands. “No! I’ll… just give me one more day. Please.” The thought of what it would cost for a tow plus having to deal with the repairs now rather than after my finals pains me. I don’t even want to think about it.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, it’s finals week and I was studying and waiting and then fell asleep.” I know for a fact that my lie is falling apart because who in their right mind would sleep in their car rather than in a warm bed at home? Any normal person would have called an Uber or a friend and come back the next day. I’m just hoping that Lance won’t kick me off the property. There’s only a few hours until the café opens at 6 am.

Lance shakes his head, laughing but I get the feeling it’s not at my misfortune, just how anxious I am. “You’re a horrible liar. The boss will have my ass if I let you stay out here so at least sleep in the lounge where it’s warm? I know you well enough that you’re not going to destroy the place and I’ll feel better that you’re actually getting some rest. Besides, you make the boss’ coffee. You’re harmless.”

My face contorts as I move around the car to grab a bag of clean clothes. “Does everyone know that?” I’m not sure I like the entire building thinking I’m just Raphael’s personal errand boy.

“Pretty obvious with that stupid smile he gets when he walks in there or the way you cradle his coffee when he calls you up. Atlas, don’t be embarrassed. The boss hasn’t smiled like that in a while. I love that for him. He needs it.”

I don’t respond because that’s not a conversation I want to continue. Following Lance into the building, I run up the stairs to the lounge and find a particularly dark corner that is away from the main entrance. The gym opens at 6 am and I’ll need to be downstairs at 5:30 so it’s likely that no one will even catch me sleeping in here. The cushions are much more comfortable than my car and the heat vent that I find near my chair is heavenly. No doubt Lance is watching me get comfortable through one of the many cameras but I don’t care; this is perfect.

My phone alarm wakes me and I scramble to the showers to quickly wash up, brush my teeth, and don my uniform which just consists of a plain shirt, pants, and the god-awful brown apron we’re required to wear. I barely make it to the café in time for the beginning of my shift, one of the newer employees—Paula—eyeing me suspiciously. She’s a year older than me which somehow translates to seniority in her head.

“Why are you running like that? You’re also late,” Paula pushes out. “Just because you make the boss’ coffee, doesn’t mean that you get special privileges.” She sticks her hands on her hips and cocks her head to the side. Paula is the most straight-laced employee out of the four that work here—Gerald, Tracey, and I included. Her uniform consists of a white shirt and pressed black dress pants. Her black hair is always pulled into a tight black bun which reminds me of June.

Which also means I automatically don’t like her.

“Look, I get no special treatment. Heather will write me up for being late—if she cared. A few minutes late doesn’t do anything but this stupid conversation we’re having is taking up valuable time to turn on the machines and get ready for the morning rush.” I throw a rather harsh glare at her before readying the espresso machine, the Frappuccino machine, and a few others. Paula talks a big game but she has no idea how to man any of these stations. I’ll be glad when Tracey shows up.

We work in silence for the next half hour, my heart jumping into my chest when Raphael strolls to the counter. He looks a little less put together than usual. Raphael dons a navy blue suit with a black button-down and tie which is pristine as always. It’s the hair that’s different. Rather than the slicked-back, polished style he sports, today it’s just there. Dark chocolate and silver strands mussed on his head, a few strays dangling down to the beginning of his sharp cheekbones.

He still looks professional.

He also looks hotter than usual and I have to bite back a groan so that I don’t make a fool out of myself.

“Good morning,” Raphael speaks as he addresses Paula. His voice is rough with sleep as if he didn’t get any. The sound goes straight to my dick and I immediately think of a random fact to keep myself from sporting a semi in the café.

Octopuses have three hearts.

Unfortunately, that turns my mind to tentacles. And then dicks. And then Raphael’s dick, which could be classified as a monster.

Fuck, not helping. Um. Owls don’t have eyeballs. They have eye tubes.

That doesn’t help either as I start thinking about holes, particularly mine, and what I’d like Raphael to do while he’s in that suit. “Shit.” I slap my hands across my mouth as I glance up at the counter to see Paula and Raphael staring at me. Paula looks annoyed but Raphael seems amused at my outburst as he gestures to the table by the window. No one’s in here yet but the special treatment is going to make Paula spread rumors.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Part of it anyway—the fact that I don’t want to be caught with Raphael in public. If we’re ever going to make this a thing, people are going to talk. I just need to ignore them. I look around for Heather, wanting approval but realizing that I don’t need it. We’re allowed to take breaks, especially when our jobs are completed. This isn’t boot camp.

Paula jabs me in the shoulder as I pass her. “What’s going on? Why does he want to talk to you?”

“How should I know? I just got here. I’ll make his coffee, see what he wants, and I’ll be right back,” I mumble as I start pressing buttons on the espresso machine to start up Raphael’s perfect cup. I usually top it with a bit of cinnamon but I’m hoping he’ll like the twist I place in it today. Maybe it’ll make the conversation easier. Six minutes later, I slide Raphael a cup as he beckons me to take a seat.

He takes a long sip of his espresso, a warm smile spreading across his lips. “Chocolate? I think I like the upgrade, little one.” Silence follows his statement and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I’m not sure what he wants from me or if this is the end of our relationship. I know I haven’t been open and honest with him but I’m trying. Mostly.

Raphael observes me as I twitch and fiddle, my anxiety heightening until I can’t help it. “Did you know that butterflies can taste with their feet?” My absolute need to fill voids with random facts is going to be the death of me one day. He chuckles at my outburst and I shove my hands between my thighs as I curl in on myself.

“I did not know that, little one. I’ll make sure to remember it.”

I can’t handle this awkward meeting anymore. “Sir?”

His eyes darken immediately as he sets down the coffee cup and leans forward, his folded hands perched on the surface. “What have I told you about calling me that?” I suck in my bottom lip and his hands flinch before settling on the surface again. “Not that either.”

“Why?” This conversation took a turn I wasn’t expecting but that’s rather normal for us. Raphael wants to talk about something serious and then I turn everything into a game, seeing how far I can push him until he snaps. I love the hard fucks I get afterwards so it’s a win-win situation.

Raphael lowers his voice as he speaks this time. “Because you calling me sir and biting that bottom lip makes me want to do things to you in public that would get us arrested.”

I swallow nervously, glancing over the counter, glad to see that Tracey has shown up so that Paula isn’t yelling my name for help with the two customers who have arrived. “You can’t tell me what to do,” I hiss when I turn back to Raphael. His lopsided grin tells me otherwise, my body heating from the inside out. I slide forward to hide the growing bulge between my thighs and my absolute need for the man in front of me. What he can say with mere wordless promises and dark looks shouldn’t be legal.

“The things I’d do to you if we were in a different setting would wipe that smile off your face and have you howling my name,” Raphael purrs before taking another swig of his coffee.

“Jesus.”

“He will not be in the room, little one.” I fidget again, needing friction somewhere. Anywhere. “Atlas, tell me it’s too much and we’ll go back to normal. I’ll come in to get my coffee and you blush until I leave.”

My head falls to hide my embarrassment. “Is that why you came in this early? To talk about… us?”

“Not really. I was worried last night and needed to see that you’re okay. It’s obvious to see you haven’t been sleeping well and that you’re not eating?” He pauses and I look up to see worry beneath those hazel eyes. “That hurts me, Atlas. I want to know that you’re happy and healthy. Not one or the other.”

I want that too. To be both. Money doesn’t allow for that and I’m not using Raphael’s. I don’t want a handout.

“You mentioned that we could talk tonight. How about a date? I want to take you down to the wharf, spend some time on the boardwalk, just you and me. How does that sound?” Raphael’s voice has softened, his hands still clasped on the table. He’s trying to be respectful of my space but I don’t want him to be. The fact that I’ve set this boundary is starting to pain me. I’ve all but told Raphael that I prefer him as my dirty little secret because I’m scared.

If he’s willing and ready to share this with the rest of the world, what better way to say ‘I love you’ than a public date? I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings and shortcomings that I’ve failed to see the one thing that truly matters—Raphael doesn’t care. He just wants me.

Raphael speaks again, pulling me out of my head. “I assure you this thing between us is everything I want but I want more than the little moments. I want more than your body. I want your mind and your smiles and the way your eyes get big when you get excited. Let me take you out to the wharf, Atlas.”

“Yes.” One pitiful little word doesn’t truly mirror my excitement but it’s all I can muster up. I hope the heat rising to my cheeks lets Raphael know just how on board I am with this plan. “I’d like that.” I’d like that? Ha, I’ve been waiting for the day that Raphael asks me out on a proper date. Uninterrupted time with the man I’m in love with, away from our jobs and the worries of my current predicament is what I’ve been dreaming of.

The resulting grin on my lover’s face warms my soul. He seems years younger despite the bags beneath his eyes as he hides his true excitement behind another cup of coffee. “Would it make you feel better to know that I wasn’t sure where to take you? Thought dinner might be good but Karla said no.”

I always forget that Karla knows things about us. Raphael has explained that she’s a second mother to him and that Heather is pretty damn close as well. The fact that he has so much support and a loving parent? I’m jealous. It then dawns on me that Raphael mentioned going out to dinner and I can only imagine what kind of restaurants that man regularly visits. “Like those gourmet places? There’s not enough food on those plates for what you pay.” I’ve never been but the bite-size plates I’ve seen on TV make me angry, especially when I see the bill. If I ever make enough money to think about visiting a gourmet restaurant, I will politely decline.

“Money doesn’t mean much to me, Atlas.” Raphael means well but that just means he’ll readily throw money at a problem. Money means a lot to me. It can make or break my week. I bite my lip and let Raphael know that I’ll be waiting for him this afternoon like I used to. He doesn’t need to see that side of me, not yet.