Page 98 of Angel

He lifts my hands and plants a kiss on the back of each. “We’ll protect each other.”

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

ANGEL

I jump out of my truck and use the two seconds it takes me to walk around the cab to gather myself. My palms are sweaty, my stomach is practically cramping. I think I might throw up.

But I won’t. Because Rhys needs me to be strong for him.

I asked him to come to the wedding with me. I told him to dress however he wants. I need to protect him against whatever fallout might follow.

Holding the door handle, I take a deep breath, then pull it open. Rhys gazes down at me, looking like a queen sitting on her throne. His dress is dazzling, but it pales in comparison to his own beauty. Dark, smoldering eyes and glistening, pouty lips. His hair is blond today and it falls in perfect curls around his face.

When I first laid eyes on him in his apartment, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Because no human could look like that, right? He has to be an angel.

I take Rhys’s hand and hold him steady as he steps down. I close the door behind him and we stand there, shielded by my truck, and gaze into each other’s eyes.

Rhys is my life now. He is my future. I don’t care what happens today, I will do whatever it takes to be with him forever.

“Ready?” he finally asks.

I nod and hold out my elbow. He slips his hand inside and I place mine on top of it.

Then we walk.

The entire neighborhood has shown up for this wedding. Every single person I’ve known since I was a baby. And the second we round the bed of my truck, all eyes zero in on us—or rather, on Rhys.

I don’t blame them. He’s a vision. Stunning. How could you not stare? But not all the gazes are as appreciative as mine.

Beside me, Rhys holds his head up high. His posture is ramrod straight, and he struts like he’s on a catwalk. Part of it is a defense mechanism, a shield. I can tell now that I know him so well. But I’m still proud of him for showing up, for being unapologetic, for being bold.

I love him. I couldn’t be more honored to have him on my arm.

I see Nico’s wife, Ariana, wrangling their two kids across the parking lot. She stops in her tracks, an expression of shock on her face when she sees us. Then she hurries the kids into the church like they’re trying to flee the boogeyman.

I grit my teeth. Of all the people at this wedding, I was sure Nico and Ariana would be safe. Rhys’s hand tightens on my elbow when he notices her reaction. I hate that he saw it.

But then, before we manage more than a few yards, Nico appears in the open doorway of the church. He scans the parking lot and the instant he sets eyes on us, he breaks into a smile. Ariana must have rushed inside to send him out.

“Ricky! Angel!” He marches toward us, arms held wide like he’s welcoming old friends back home.

Rhys lets out a shaky breath, releasing some of his tightly coiled tension.

“Holy shit, baby bro! You look like you’re going to the Met Gala. You know you’re in Staten Island, right?” Nico teases as he pulls Rhys into a hug.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I dressed up. If I don’t bring the fabulous, who will?” Rhys is all sass and confidence. There’s no hint of anxiety and I can’t help puffing up my chest in response. He’s an amazing performer. He’s gonna nail this.

“Angel, my man.” Nico gives me a bro hug and we slap each other on the back. But when I pull away, Nico doesn’t let go. “You treating him right?” He growls at me in full big-brother mode.

I smile with a joy so deep and uncontainable, it just shoots out of me. “Yeah. For sure.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.”

When Nico releases me, Rhys isn’t where I left him. He’s been enveloped by a group of women about our age. They’re all gushing over his dress and his hair and his makeup, and he’s holding court like the queen he is.

Nico and I stand back, letting Rhys have his moment.

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