I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 106

Chapter 106

Emerys POV

Elope?

The word hung between us, soft but explosive. I stared into his eyes, heart racing, waiting for a grin or laugh. Some kind of “just kidding” to break the tension.

But it never came.

His face stayed still. Serious. Certain.

And with every second that passed, I realized he meant it. This wasn’t a joke. This was real. He was real. And he wanted me enough to throw away the rulebook.

Atlas and I eloping should’ve scared the hell out of me. It should’ve felt reckless, impulsive, but all I could picture was walking beside him in the open, his hand in mine, his lips on mine, no secrets, no shame. Just us. Together. Always.

My chest swelled. My lips curled. And slowly, breathlessly… I nodded.

“Yes.”

His eyes widened, like he didn’t quite believe I’d say it. Like some tiny part of him still thought I’d choose fear over him.

And then he moved, god, he moved.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in like he couldn’t hold me close enough. He kissed me, soft at first, reverent, like a man discovering something sacred, and then again, and again, every time whispering between kisses:

“I love you. I love you. I promise I’ll find a way to make sure you never regret this.”

I clutched him tighter, burying my face into his neck. His heartbeat thundered beneath my cheek, wild and warm and alive.

This wasn’t a mistake. This was freedom. This was us.

And if this was what risking it all felt like… I’d risk it a thousand times more.

***

“Oh fuck, Atlasss!!” I cried out, the words ripping from my throat in a broken, desperate sob as his hips slammed forward again…hard, precise, hitting that spot deep inside me that made white-hot sparks explode behind my eyelids.

Once again another Atlas Fucking Lawson orgasms.

After Atlas’s proposal about eloping, things between us changed. Not in some big dramatic way. But in those quiet, behind-closed-doors moments… it felt like we were finally us. Like a real couple. Like we weren’t pretending or hiding or tiptoeing anymore.

We talked. We laughed. We made love….a lot. And right now, we were tangled together, skin on skin, my resting on his chest as his fingers drew slow, lazy circles on my

back.

head

He kissed the top of my head, humming something low in his throat that made me feel safe and warm and stupidly in love.

“Okay,” he murmured, voice still rough from carlier, “if we’re really doing this eloping thing… where would you wanna go?”

I looked up at him, smiling. “Somewhere far. Like really far. Maybe a small country where no one knows our names. Somewhere peaceful.”

He quirked a brow. “You trying to go off the grid, Collins?”

I laughed. “Maybe! I’m serious, though. I’ve always liked the idea of the countryside. You know… fresh air, peace and quiet. We could get a little farm, raise chickens, horses, cows… as many as possible.”

Atlas blinked. “Since when are you a full-blown countryside girl?”

“Since always,” I said, teasing. “You think I’m just swimming and A’s? I actually love the simplicity of it. The beauty. Being surrounded by animals, waking up to roosters instead of alarm clocks. And just wait until we have little Atlas and Emerys running around…”

I paused. My mouth clamped shut as the words registered.

Oh. Shit.

Emery. You’re getting way ahead of yourself.

I felt my cheeks go red, and I tried to sit up, but Atlas didn’t even flinch. He leaned forward, kissed my bare shoulder, and murmured softly:

“How many kids do you want?”

I blinked at him. “W-What?”

He smirked. “You said ‘Little Atlas and Emery.’ I’m just following up.”

Still flushed, I gave him a shy smile. “I’ve always wanted four. Doesn’t matter how the gender falls. Just… I grew up an only child. It was lonely as hell. I used to imagine what it would be like to have someone to whisper secrets to at night, or fight over the TV with. I don’t want my kids to feel that kind of alone.”

Atlas looked at me like I just cracked his heart open in the best way. He smiled, reached over, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Don’t worry,” he said, all cocky now. “The Lawson family’s known for two things-good looks and ridiculously strong sperm.”

I let out a laugh, swatted his arm. “Oh my God, Atlas!”

He grinned, unbothered, flexing just a little. “Just sayin’. Four kids? Easy. Might even get five on the first try.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back down against his chest, still laughing. “You’re impossible.”

His voice softened. “And you’re my everything.”

The comfort of the silence surrounded us so perfect and then Atlas broke the silence.

“This has to stay between us,” Atlas said, his voice low as his thumb brushed the back of my hand.

Lying here, naked felt like we had all the time in the world, but we didn’t. The semester was wrapping up. There were only a few games left in the season. Then the wedding.

And then… us. Gone.

I nodded slowly, staring at the ceiling even though all I wanted to do was look at him.

Silence returned warm but heavy.

Then I whispered, “Do you think they’re gonna hate us?”

Atlas didn’t answer right away. He shifted, exhaling through his nose, like the weight of it all had finally landed square on his chest.

“They’ll be hurt,” he said quietly. “Anyone in their position would be. We’re not exactly giving them something easy to accept.”

I looked at him then, his profile cast in shadows from the lamplight. His jaw clenched. His eyes, so full of love a few hours ago, now clouded with guilt.

“But…” he continued, turning to meet my gaze, “we’ll explain. We’ll beg for forgiveness if we have to. And we’ll keep doing it until they understand. That’s all we can do.”

My throat tightened. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially not my dad or Daisy.

But we weren’t kids anymore.

And love, real, soul-deep, terrifying love, didn’t always wait around for the perfect moment.

“As we grow older,” Atlas said, voice softer now, like he was thinking out loud, “we realize life’s full of changes. And every decision we make? It comes with consequences.”

He looked down at me, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“But just because the choices are hard… doesn’t mean we run from them. Doesn’t mean we give up.”

I leaned into his touch, blinking away the sudden sting in my eyes. “You sound like a wise old man.”

Atlas smiled, crooked and tired. “Guess loving you made me grow up a little.”

I pressed a kiss to his chest, right over where his heart was beating slow and steady.

“Good. You’re gonna need all the wisdom you can get to survive four kids and a cow farm.”

That earned a real laugh…low, warm, and perfect.

Jazz, Sam, and I were mid-lunch, fighting over curly fries and ranting about Professor Willis’s soul-sucking business administration classes that ended with half the class more confused than the beginning of lectures.

Yo!”

That voice cut through the cafeteria. Heads turned. Conversations died. You could literally hear a fork drop.

I blinked, looked up, and of course, it was him. Ford. In full Linchester jersey glory, striding in like the damn main character. His messy blonde hair was damp like he’d just finished practice.

Omar groaned across the room. “Here we go,” he muttered, while the rest of the hockey team either grinned or looked like they were about to start tossing popcorn.

Ford raised his hands, speaking to the whole cafeteria like we were his personally invited audience. “Sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled chicken nuggets, folks. But you all know what time it is.”

Groans, laughter, a few claps.

“The Linchester ritual is back.”

Oh. Right.

The jersey ritual.

It was this weird, oddly cute tradition where the hockey guys gave their game jerseys to girls they were dating, or hooking up with, depending on the dude. Basically, their way of staking claim.

And I guess it was happening now.

Ford swaggered over to our table, twirling his jersey on one finger like a ringmaster. ” My lover. Samantha,” he announced dramatically. “Do me the honor of wearing my blood, sweat, and victory.”

Sam blinked. “Well, uh… someone already gave me one.”

Ford stopped cold. His jaw actually dropped. “W…what? Who’s the motherf….”

Sam snorted. “Relax, drama king. I’m just messing with you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You tryna give me a heart attack?”

Sam grabbed the jersey and stood, slipping it over her head. “God, I love it when you get all mad and sexy.”

She leaned in and kissed him, not appropriate for public viewing. Someone cheered. Someone else whistled.

I laughed, shaking my head, but my attention drifted without permission.

Atlas.

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