Page 4 of Angel

Turns out, it was the best decision I’ve ever made.

CHAPTER

TWO

ANGEL

The guys are talking baseball, but I stopped paying attention the minute Ricky showed up. Or more like sauntered up. I haven’t seen the guy since… I don’t know. It’s probably been years by now.

I was on the high school football team with his brother, Nico, so I used to see Ricky around all the time. But then I graduated and started working full-time, and he moved out to Brooklyn a couple years later. He doesn’t come back often, I don’t think. Or maybe our paths just haven’t crossed.

He’s wearing a pair of black jeans that look like they’re painted onto his legs. His t-shirt is just as tight, showing off his lithe, toned body. And I swear I can see the outline of his nipples on either side of the rainbow unicorn on his chest. His hair is pulled back and up, leaving his long, elegant neck exposed. His boots have these super-thick soles, giving him a couple extra inches in height.

I think he’s wearing makeup? His eyes look darker and more… I don’t know, smoky or something?

He laughs as the guys say their hellos and his lips glisten when he smiles wide. I hang back. I don’t know him as well as the other guys and they’re all over him already. He doesn’t need my paws getting into his personal space too.

But once he disappears into the house, the image of him stays with me. He looks so… happy? No, it’s more than that. He looks confident, sure of himself, poised. He dazzles. Like a movie star who shines too bright for a simple suburban neighborhood like ours.

He was always like that, even when we were kids. He was never a part of the cool crowd, but as Nico’s little brother, he didn’t get picked on by the cool kids either. He wasn’t a nerd, wasn’t artsy. He didn’t fit into any of the clearly defined groups that divided us as kids. He’s always just been Ricky.

I’ve always found that brave. I admired it. He knew he wasn’t like everyone else and he didn’t bother hiding it. That’s not an easy thing to do around here, where all the families know each other and gossip travels faster than wildfire. Where people aren’t afraid of voicing their opinions, and judgment comes down hard and heavy without a second thought.

It’s no wonder he left as soon as he was old enough. It’s no wonder he rarely comes home. This place is too small for someone like him.

“Who wants another round?” Mario asks, holding up his empty beer bottle.

He’s one of the guys I’m closest to in the group, and we also work for the same construction company, building condos and office towers in Manhattan.

I snatch the bottle from him. “I’ll grab it.”

The guys pile their bottles in my arms, and I head inside to dump them in the kitchen. Just as I’m tossing the last one into a clear trash bag, someone steps in from the backyard, slips past me, and disappears up the stairs.

Was that Ricky?

I poke my head into the stairwell just in time to see the heel of a black boot vanish around the corner. My foot is on the first step before I can stop myself.

What am I doing? Am I trying to follow him upstairs? To do what? Say hello?

I don’t even know Ricky that well. We’re not really friends, barely acquaintances. I doubt he remembers me from when we were younger. Nico was a popular guy, and I’ve always stayed at the edge of the crowd.

Ricky’s probably just grabbing something and coming right back down. There’s no reason for me to go up there. And yet, my foot doesn’t come off the bottom step.

A few moments pass and there are no sounds coming from the second floor. No footsteps or creaking floorboards. No Ricky jogging down the stairs.

My other foot lands on the second step.

Seriously. What am I doing? If I wanted to say hello, I should’ve done it earlier when we were in the driveway like a normal person. I’m being creepy. He probably wants to be alone. Maybe something happened, someone said something, and he needs a minute to himself. I know what that’s like.

I take another step and the tread groans under my weight. No one seems to notice, though—not from upstairs or from downstairs. I keep going.

This is ridiculous. He’s going to think I’m stalking him. I’m a big dude, and people who don’t know me think I’m intimidating. I don’t want to scare him. But I don’t stop.

I’ve never had a chance to come up here before. Back in high school, Nico’s room was in the basement and the team hung out down there sometimes. But all the houses in the neighborhood were built at the same time and have pretty much the same layout.

The primary bedroom is at the end of the hall. Two more bedrooms on the left and a bathroom on the right. It’s not difficult to figure out where Ricky is.

I stop short in the doorway of the second bedroom. Ricky’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed at the knees, drink in one hand, cell phone in the other. He doesn’t notice I’m there.

---