She chuckled. “Yes. Though that’s not entirely accurate. You’re more of a geek. A caveman geek.”
His lips twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “Well, let’s talk labels then, Mila. I don’t want you having any other ‘hot dates.’”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re mine.” He winced slightly, as though the words had flown out before he could stop them. Was he as conflicted about this as she was?
“So does that make me your girlfriend?” Fake girlfriend.
“I guess it does.”
A warm glow started in her chest. It was silly. A schoolgirl crush. But she had to admit it felt pretty damned good to call Atlas her boyfriend, no matter how fucked up this whole thing was.
“Atlas?” a man’s voice rang from the back of the house. “Is that you?”
“Yeah,” he called back. “We’re coming.”
“I wish,” Mila mumbled.
Laughing, he kissed her then turned her by the shoulders and slapped her ass. She yelped in indignation.
He took her hand and walked her back to the foyer and closed the door behind them. There was no more house tour. Was it because they’d been interrupted or had he only meant to show her the garage? Instead, he pulled her through a kitchen she’d already seen and straight out the door to the pool deck.
Fuck.
She gazed at the glistening surface and a shiver slid up her spine as memories flooded her—Atlas going down on her on the side of the pool . . .
Oh god. What was she doing here? This was a bad idea.
She forced her attention away from the pool and to the scene laid in front of her instead. Several people sat around a circular table under an umbrella, playing cards. A big pile of poker chips sat in the middle. A shirtless tattooed man stood by a smoking grill to the left, flipping burgers. She recognized him from her research on the family. That was Fox, Atlas’s brother. His cousin, Luke, who looked a lot like Fox with all of the tattoos, was sitting on a lounge chair by the water, a blonde with a pregnant belly lying back between his legs.
One of the men playing poker was Loke. The others she didn’t recognize.
“Suck on this!” a girl said as she set her cards on the table.
Several groans followed.
“Why do we let her play?” one guy asked.
Grinning madly, she swept all the chips from the center of the table toward her. “Mwuahahaha. All the chips are miiiiine!”
The same guy turned to Fox and said, “Your girl keeps winning. Can’t you do something about that?”
“Your problem, Carlos, not mine,” Fox answered.
Atlas cleared his throat and they went silent. All eyes were on her.
“This is Mila.” Atlas squeezed her hand. “Mila this is . . . pretty much my family.” He pointed people out as he introduced them. Fox by the grill as she’d thought. The girl at the poker table was his wife, Addison. Loke sat next to her.
“Jimmy from the auto shop we take our cars to,” Atlas said, gesturing toward the guy sitting next to Loke. He waved. “And that’s Carlos, he’s also from the shop.”
She smiled nervously.
Atlas pointed to the two people by the pool. “The two lovebirds are my cousin, Luke, and his wife, Ophelia.” He looked back at Mila. “I think that’s everybody.”
“Nice to meet all of you,” she said.
They greeted her before Atlas steered her to an empty lounge chair. She sat down politely on the edge, tucking her skirt under and making sure her legs were crossed neatly. Atlas looked down at her then snorted. He lowered himself behind her then pulled her up against him, swinging her legs onto the chair where her skirt rode up and bared her thighs.