Page 17 of Angel

ANGEL

My phone vibrates in my pocket, sending my pulse skyrocketing. Is it him? Did he message me back? Leaving the lawn mower idling, I pull out my phone.

Rhys

Great! *winky face emoji* Having brunch with the boys.

I recognize the photo. It’s the same one he posted on social media earlier today. The one where his long, purple hair falls in waves around his shoulders, and his eyes smolder as he peers into the camera through his lashes.

Rhys

What are you up to today? *grinning emoji*

Trying not to think about you and failing miserably. It’s what I’ve been trying to do for the last week, but no matter how hard I try to forget about our conversation, I can’t. It replays in my mind whenever I have a moment of quiet.

There’s a whole subset of gay porn called gay for pay. Is that something you’d be interested in? I know someone you can talk to.

And then the videos. Oh heavens above, the videos. I’ve never jerked off so much in my life, not even when I was a horny teenager with raging hormones. After that first night, I’ve been going back to that website, looking for more videos of Rhys.

Then I found him on social media and created new accounts just so I could follow him. His social media photos are a lot tamer than that website, but somehow more intriguing. They’re a glimpse into his life—how he spends his days, the people he surrounds himself with, the places he likes to be. It feels like a world away from here, even though he’s only a thirty-minute drive away.

I push my sunglasses to the top of my head, then hold my phone out. I’m nowhere near as good at taking selfies as Rhys is, but the one I snap doesn’t look terrible.

Angel

Doing yard work.

Instead of standing there, staring at the screen while waiting for Rhys to respond, I make a point of stuffing my phone into my pocket again. I’ve got a lawn to mow and a garden to weed. If I stay busy with yard work, then I won’t be obsessing over why I messaged Rhys today.

Because I’ve got absolutely no clue. Why today? Why not yesterday? Why not tomorrow? Why did I message him at all? We’re not friends. He didn’t say anything about wanting to be friends. He only gave me his number in case I wanted to ask more about the whole gay-for-pay thing.

Which I don’t.

Right?

Dang it. I don’t.

My phone vibrates again. I should ignore it. I can check it later, when I’m done with mowing the lawn. Maybe I’ll leave it inside so it doesn’t distract me.

Crap.

I stop the lawn mower and pull my phone out again.

Rhys

*eyes emoji* *fire emoji* *sweating emoji*

I stare at the message. Is that— Does he— Is he asking me if it’s hot outside?

Angel

It’s not too hot. There’s a nice breeze.

Three dots immediately appear at the bottom of the screen. Then disappear. Then reappear again.

Rhys

*teary-eyed smiling emoji* *halo emoji* Make sure you stay hydrated. *winky face emoji*

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