Page 9 of Returning to Pine Ridge

---

My phone buzzes while I’m still in bed, sunlight streaming through my childhood bedroom window. I already know what Jordan’s going to say before I even open the messages. Our friendship has a predictable rhythm—I confess, he judges, he pushes me toward something reckless.

Jordan:

Wait, so this guy DELETED your confession? Like, completely?

Atlas:

Yeah. He said it wasn’t ethical to keep it without my full consent.

Jordan:

That’s actually kind of hot. A guy with principles. What’s he look like?

Atlas:

I don’t know. Tall. Dark hair. Thoughtful. He listens like it actually matters.

Jordan:

Okay, so he’s hot. And he’s into ethics. And he literally showed up for you when you were having a breakdown. Dude. That’s boyfriend material.

Atlas:

He lives in Pine Ridge. I live in Denver.

Jordan:

Not for long if you keep spiraling like this. Anyway, you need to hook up with him.

Atlas:

What? No. I just met him.

Jordan:

Exactly. You need a distraction. You need to forget about your problems for five seconds and just … feel good. Enjoy the company of a hot guy.

I stare at the phone, my stomach feeling all weird. Jordan’s not wrong—I do need a distraction. But using Kai would be a reckless. The way he looked at me last night. The way he protected my confession. The way his hand brushed mine when he gave me the memory stick.

He’s too nice for casual.

Atlas:

I don’t even know if he’s into men.

Jordan:

Only one way to find out. You’re hot, Atlas. Use it.

Seriously, you’re spiraling about your job, your debt, your whole life falling apart. Go flirt with the ethical historian and let him distract you with his oral skills.

Atlas:

That’s not how this works.

Jordan:

Dude, you’re catastrophizing. You need a distraction. A hot distraction. Go flirt with him. What’s the worst that could happen?

---