Page 5 of Angel

I clear my throat, not sure how else to let him know he’s not alone.

He snaps his head around. The initial shock, tinged with a hint of fear, quickly morphs into a frown.

“Sorry!” I say, holding my hands up. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Except, I totally did. Why else did I come up here all by myself, uninvited and unannounced?

“That’s okay,” Ricky says. His voice is soft, lyrical, almost like he’s singing. He cocks his head to the side. “You’re… Angel, right?”

He remembers my name. My ears warm as they flush pink. Why does he remember my name? “Yeah, I’m friends with your brother.”

Ricky nods. “The football team.”

“Yeah.” I lift a hand to my jaw, fingers scratching the short hairs of my beard. It’s a nervous habit I have. Because suddenly, I’m super nervous. My tummy feels all strange and unsettled. My palms are a little clammy. I shift back and forth on my feet. Why did I come up here again?

Ricky studies me, examines me, cataloging everything from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. Then his lips twitch. “You just gonna stand there, big boy? Or you gonna come in?”

My ears burst into flames, and my tummy does a flip-flop thing that’s never happened before. A part of me wants to dash back downstairs and race outside to where the guys are waiting for their beers.

But another part of me wants to stay. I don’t know why. This is weird and strange and… my feet carry me forward of their own accord.

When Ricky pats the bed next to him, I sit down, feeling a little too bulky and rough for the frilly, pink covers under me. Ricky shifts, folding one knee on the mattress so he can sit sideways, facing my direction. I flatten my palms against my thighs, not sure what else I’m supposed to do with them.

His gaze is warm and weighty on the side of my face as he watches me. I can’t bring myself to return it. Instead, I glance around the room.

It looks like a teenage girl lives here. But since Nico and Ricky don’t have a sister, I assume the room belonged to Ricky when he was still living at home.

“This is, um, nice.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Ricky arching one elegant eyebrow. He looks like he’s trying to suppress a smile. “You think so?”

Not really. “Yeah, um, it’s very… pink.”

He snickers and his smile widens, and in spite of the funny feelings he elicits in me, I turn to watch. His eyes are a deep brown, framed by long, dark lashes. There’s a slight blush across the tops of his cheekbones. His lips are pink and shiny.

I’ve never seen a guy with makeup on before. Not unless they’re an actor or something. The idea sounds odd to me—why would a guy want to wear makeup? But seeing Ricky made up like this, it actually looks really cool. His eyes are so dramatic. His lips look so plump and soft. I can’t stop staring.

“My teenage self thanks you.”

“Huh?” His what? Oh. The room. Right.

Ricky laughs and the sound skips along my skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re cute?”

The burn on my ears spreads to my cheeks. I duck my chin and scratch my jaw, trying to hide the flush. I don’t know why I’m blushing so hard, or why my skin is tingling, or why my tummy feels all fluttery. Heck, I don’t even know why I’m up here in the first place.

These feelings are so foreign, so unfamiliar. But I think I like them.

“So, um, how come you’re not downstairs with everyone else?” I ask when a beat passes in silence.

Ricky’s smile fades a bit, and I immediately regret asking.

I hurry to apologize. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

Ricky shakes his head and sighs. “No, it’s fine. To be honest, I wish I could’ve skipped the party altogether.”

My brow furrows in confusion as my gut objects to the suggestion. “But it’s your dad’s sixtieth birthday,” I say, as if that’s the reason why I think he needs to be here, and not because I’m kind of enjoying sitting on this bed with him.

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