I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Atlas POV

I’m losing my freaking mind.

The puck slipped past me. Again.

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Ford skated up, brows scrunched together like he was debating if he should ask or let me spiral in peace.

“Yo… you good?”

“Yeah.” I forced a smile. One that probably looked more like a grimace because his concern didn’t budge.

And why would it? I’d just missed three shots in a row and nearly tripped over my own damn skates like a baby deer on ice.

Practice ended, mercifully. I didn’t even wait for the locker room chatter. My gear came off fast, and I was halfway to the showers when I heard it.

“Lawson. My office.”

Yep. There it was.

I walked in, wet hair dripping onto my shirt, and sank into the chair across from Coach’s desk. He didn’t say anything at first. Just closed his laptop with a soft click and studied me. Real slow. Like I was a science project that kept setting itself on fire.

“Take a three day off practice.”

…Huh??

“What?” I blinked at Coach like he’d just told me Santa was real and skating laps outside the rink.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Lawson, I’m your coach. It’s my job to push you. It’s also my job not to work you into the ground. And right now?” He tapped his desk. “You’re fried, kid.”

Fried.

Yeah. If only he knew the reason my brain felt like scrambled eggs.

“So what I’m trying to say,” He continued, “is go home. Sleep. Watch a movie. Eat ice cream. I don’t care what you do. Just come back when you’re not skating like you’ve never seen a puck before.”

“Coach, I appreciate that, but I’m… I’m fine.”

He stared at me. Long. Quiet. The kind of stare that made you suddenly evaluate every life choice.

“Go do as I said.”

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Chapter 55

“But Coach…”

“Don’t argue with me, Lawson.”

I deflated instantly. “Yes, sir.”

I stood, hand on the doorknob, when his voice softened behind me.

“Look, son… I’m always here if you wanna talk.”

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My chest tightened, guilt, shame, frustration all crammed together. I nodded, swallowed hard, forced the smallest smile, and walked out. I left the rink with a worried teammate and an even more worried coach…If only…

If only they knew the reason I couldn’t stay fucking focused was her… Because every time I shut my eyes, even for a damn second, I was right back in the kitchen.

And she was standing in front of me.

Emery.

Her green eyes darker than usual, pupils blown wide. Her lips slightly parted. God, I swear I could almost taste them. Her hair a mess from sleep. Her cheeks flushed.

And then the shirt fell.

My gaze devoured every inch of her bare skin, helpless, hungry, like I was studying something I had no business wanting as badly as I did.

“I’m horny?”

Her voice kept looping in my head like some kind of sick torture, teasing me, dragging me back into that moment again and again.

What if I never pulled away? What if I didn’t pretend I wasn’t seconds from losing my damn mind? What if I’d kissed her…really kissed her…

let my hands map every curve, every shiver, every sound she made?

What if I’d pushed her gently against the counter, let her feel what she’d done to me… punished her just a little for driving me insane, for taking years off my life with one stupid shirt button and a whisper-

“Atlas.”

The fantasy snapped clean in half.

I blinked hard, breathing uneven as the kitchen melted away, and I found myself sitting in Financial Management lecture-not hell, but close.

I turned to my right. A brunette sat beside me-Amber? Amanda? Something with an A. I didn’t even remember her sitting down. “You okay? Your face is… really red. Oh…oh my God, do you have a fever?”

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Chapter 55

A fever?

Yeah. One hundred percent. Just not the kind she meant.

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I cleared my throat and forced my expression into something human. “No. Just, uh… warm in here.”

She gave me a slow smile. A flirty one. One she probably thought was subtle.

It wasn’t.

“Well,” she said, leaning in just a little, “I’m here for you if you wanna talk…”

Her eyes dipped lower, over my chest, my hands. Then back to my face. “Or, y’know… other things.”

An open invitation. From a pretty girl. While I was currently hard as hell and trying not to die inside.

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

You’d think a little BJ behind the lecture hall would fix me, reset my brain, let me breathe again.

But no.

Not even close.

I swallowed, forced a polite smile, and said quietly, “Thanks.”

One word.

One rejection.

Because the truth is simple and cruel:

The only person I want to touch me… the only person I want to think about… the only person who could actually fix this disaster she caused…is Emery.

And that?

That’s the problem that’s slowly killing me.

****

Why the fuck had she suggested here of all goddamn places?

Out of every quiet corner, coffee shop, or dorm study lounge in Linchester, she picked the fucking library. At

10PM.

Who the hell came to the library at that hour?

Nobody.

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Chapter 55

Except Emery.

And me…because apparently, I had a death wish.

:

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The place was dead silent. So silent I could hear the flick of every page, the hum of the air conditioner, and the screaming in my own goddamn head.

I wasn’t okay.

I hadn’t been okay since that night in the kitchen.

And now?

Now I was sitting across from her-sitting, like a civilized human being-while every muscle in my body felt like it was being electrocuted. She was talking about the project. Something about… citations? Structure?

I didn’t fucking know. I was trying to focus, I really was, but it was hopeless.

Because all I could think about was how perfect she looked under that damn light. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, a few blonde strands hanging loose across her cheeks. Her sweatshirt was oversized, but her legs… shit… fucking shit… those black shorts did nothing to help.

My jaw had clenched so tight I thought I’d snap a tooth. My fingers curled around the edge of the table, knuckles going bone white.

I was disgusted with myself. Disgusted with how many times I had imagined shoving all those books off the table and fucking her right there, hard, rough, desperate. My dick had been throbbing like a ticking time bomb for the past hour.

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