Atlas Griffin was everywhere. Everywhere!

Every corner I turned, he was there. If not in person, then there were those stupid posters with his stupidly handsome face plastered all across campus. It was a painful reminder of that Saturday night which I desperately wanted to erase from my memory. The worst part, the posters were made by my team and I had approved them weeks ago. Talk about digging your own grave.

It also didn't help that after spending one night with him, my libido had skyrocketed after being dormant for months. I was going crazy and this man was the sole reason for it. Even when I tried to go solo with my trusty vibrator, the moment I closed my eyes, his face would flash in front of me. The events of that night at the penthouse would play on repeat with excruciating details until I was a complete mess.

And then the wave of shame would wash over me for fantasizing about him. I, out of all people, should have known better. I knew how little he thought of everyone else, of women once he was through with them and yet I let myself fall into his trap.

The reasoning that I was using him as much as he was using me comforted me only for so long because, in the end, I had let him get to me. I should have known better than falling in bed with him at the first opportunity I got after successfully keeping him at bay for two years.

I sighed when I saw yet another poster of him in the elevator of the media building as I made my way up to our studio. It had been two weeks to the night that shall not be mentioned ever again and I had successfully avoided him so far. He did try to chase me down on Monday when I went to submit the interview questions list and the order to the coach but I escaped.

For the life of me, I couldn't understand what he wanted. I had fully expected him to ignore my existence but boy was I wrong. He had literally chased me down like I had stolen his family's heirloom.

I knew I had to face him sooner than later and with the interviews starting next week, it was going to be the former. Well, I did keep him last on the list to convince myself that that would give me more time before facing him. Which I knew was bullshit but right now I needed that.

The doors of the elevator opened on the fourth floor and I walked out, pushing the studio door open. As soon as I stepped in, Samantha hurried towards me with a worried expression on her face. "Can we talk?" she asked, her voice tense.

My brows furrowed as I met her blue eyes that were desperately avoiding my gaze. She looked way too frazzled for noon. "Sure. What is it?" I asked.

She bit her lip and gestured at the door with her chin. "Let's step outside."

Now, that had alarm bells ringing in my head. Something was wrong. With sweaty palms, I pushed the door open and stepped outside, Samantha right behind me. We walked further down the corridor until we were fully out of earshot when I decided that I couldn't take the suspense anymore. "What is it? You are scaring me," I said, discreetly wiping my sweaty hands on the skirt of my sundress.

Samantha sighed and ran her fingers through her blonde hair. "Atlas has asked for someone else to interview him. He said he can't work with you. Derek has offered to step in."

"What?" I shrieked. "Why?"

I knew why but I thought he could keep his personal and professional lives separate. But of course not. Why would he leave a chance to make things difficult for me? This was his revenge on me for ignoring him. And this was exactly why I should have stayed away from him in the first place.

Now I had a disappointed Samantha to deal with and Derek breathing down my neck, ready to steal the position I'd worked so hard for.

"That's what I want to ask you. Why is he doing this suddenly?" she asked, her eyes wide. "I mean I know you and him don't see eye to eye but you both have worked professionally so far. What happened suddenly?"

I stayed silent, not knowing what to say. I definitely couldn't tell her about my stupidity.

"Look, I know how important this is for you and how it will look weird for you to specifically not work with one person in the entire project. Try to sort this out. But if he doesn't budge, I will have no choice but to appoint Derek to work with him throughout the timeline of this project," she said.

"Thank you, Sammy. I owe you," I said to which she just smiled before walking inside the studio.

My hands balled into fists by my side as I fumed in rage. I should have known he would do something like this. He knew how important this project was for me and how every firm I applied to for an internship would be judging me based on this. Questions would be raised if they saw only one player refusing to work with me, and no matter how professionally I replied to them, it would still look like I wasn't capable of coordinating with others. Not a good look for someone who wanted to work in public relations.

That was it. I wasn't going to let Atlas bulldoze my career prospects over one reckless night. I was going to have to confront him.

***

It took me less than ten minutes to reach the rink, park my car, and stomp inside. I'd memorized the team's schedule, so I knew Atlas would be there. Fueled by rage, I almost bulldozed past everybody before Kris caught me by my shoulders.

"Woah! Slow down, Turbo," he said. "What's the rush?"

My eyes snapped up to meet his green ones. Kris was one of the sweetest guys I had ever met and as much as I wanted to chat with him properly, I was running out of patience.

"Where is Griffin?" I asked.

He gulped, sensing my mood, and let go of me. "He's in the locker room."

As soon as those words were out of his mouth, I charged toward the doorway. "You might not want to go in there. He is—"

Kris's words drowned behind me as I shut the door of the locker room with a bang.

"Atlas!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the empty space. In a normal situation, I would have been embarrassed barging in here like this, but right now I was way too angry to think about anything else.

Hearing my war cry, Atlas strolled out from somewhere on the right. He was bare except for the white towel wrapped around his waist. When his gaze landed on me, his eyes twinkled with amusement, and he had the audacity to smile at me.

"Rosy!" he exclaimed. "You are here!"

I gritted my teeth and stalked forward until I was standing right in front of him. "What the fuck is your problem, Griffin?" I snarled.

"Now, now, sweetheart. There is no need to curse," he said, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. He was enjoying this, and that just made me want to choke him. This wasn't a game to me, it was my future.

My eyes trailed down and I realized how his torso was on full display. The firm plane of his chest and the taut muscles of his abdomen which I had so diligently worshiped with my lips two weeks ago.

"Rosy," he whispered, his voice low and deep.

It sent shivers down my spine and I immediately looked up. No, no, no. I was here to set things straight. Not ogle him. However, when I met his gaze, I saw a familiar glint in his eyes, the same one he had before he had rocked my world.

"What is this about?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

"Why..." I cleared my throat, gathering my confidence back. "Why did you tell Samantha that you didn't want me to interview you?"

He eyed me for a minute before shrugging. "I just wanted to reduce your problems since you are so affected by my presence."

"I am not!" I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "And you just increased my problems."

Atlas raised a brow. "You aren't?"

I shook my head. "Absolutely not."

He took a step forward, reducing the distance between us. "Then why were you running away from me?"

A lone water droplet trailed down his chest toward his abs, and my eyes involuntarily followed it. "I... I just didn't want to see you."

"Really?" he asked, his voice mocking. "It had nothing to do with that Saturday night? That night has not been playing on repeat in your head?"

I gulped, my voice coming out as a whisper. "It hasn't."

He took another step forward, and now we were standing toe to toe. I could feel the heat radiating off his body from the hot shower he must have taken. It made me remember the way I was enveloped in his warmth that night, and my throat ran dry.

This was not good. Not when my hormones were still running wild, craving and wanting only him.

Atlas grabbed my hands, which were slightly trembling now, and placed them on his toned stomach. "Well, it's playing on repeat in my head. It's so fucking frustrating."

I inhaled sharply, my eyes meeting his while my hands caressed his soft skin all on their own. The heat in his eyes was all-encompassing, making the world fade around me. My heart rate spiked until I could hear it in my ears. He brought his hand up to my face, his thumb rubbing circles on my cheek in the gentlest manner.

I needed to pull away from him, to create some distance between us. I knew it, damn it, but I couldn't. How could I when he was looking at me like that? Like I was the most precious thing in this whole world.

"Atlas," I mumbled, my voice coming out so small that I wondered if he could even hear me. "We can't. The project... We can't!"

"The project will be fine," he said as he gently caressed the stray strands of hair falling in my face away and tucked them behind my ear. "But I for sure know that we won't be fine if we don't clear this between us."

"What's between us?"

He gave me a pointed look before sighing and placing his forehead against mine, making my breath hitch.

"You have bewitched me, Rosy," he said as if he wasn't the one who had cast a spell on me with the simplest words and touches. "Now, you either break whatever spell you have cast on me or let me live under it a little longer."