Page 44 of Angel

RHYS

“What are you doing?”

I jump clear out of my skin, yelping loudly as I spin around. Hayden is behind me, wearing a smirk that is partially amused and partially concerned.

“Nothing,” I answer, stepping away from the stage curtains I was peeking around, trying to get a view of the club’s front of house.

Hayden knows me too well for me to fool him. “You’re looking for Angel, aren’t you?”

I cross my arms over my chest and lift my chin. “No.”

Hayden lifts an eyebrow at me.

“Okay, fine, I was,” I huff, stomping past him and back toward the dressing room.

He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the disappointment rolling off him as he follows close behind.

The dressing room isn’t empty, thank god. The second the other performers spot Hayden, they drag him into the middle of their circle for a little flirting. It gives me a minute to sort myself the fuck out.

I smooth out a few flyaways in my hair, then hit them with a blast of hairspray. Then I add a coat of sparkly lip gloss over the color I applied earlier. All the while, my attention is glued to my phone, as if I can will the screen to light up with a notification from Angel.

When Hayden finally extricates himself from his admirers and drops into the chair next to mine, I ignore him. He doesn’t speak, just watches and waits, knowing I’ll crack sooner rather than later.

And I do. “I don’t know what you have against Angel. He’s a literal angel.”

“I don’t have anything against him. He seems like a really nice guy.”

I shoot Hayden a sidelong glance. “So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you.” He nudges my foot with his.

“What’s wrong with being his friend? I’m allowed to have other friends, Denny.”

Hurt flashes across Hayden’s face, quick enough that anyone who didn’t know him as well as I do would’ve missed it. Hayden’s the golden retriever of our group of friends. He’s always sunshine and smiles, and hardly anything ever gets to him. Sometimes, when I’m being terrible, I forget that he’s got soft, vulnerable spots too.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” I reach across the space between us and take his hand. “You’re my bestie and I love you.”

Hayden quirks a smile. “I know. I love you too.”

I wait for the unspoken “but” that hangs in the air between us. I can see it in his eyes, in the tightness at the edges of his smile.

“What is it?” I say with a resigned sigh. There’s no point in turning away or denying it. I can’t keep fending him off with unfriendly jabs.

“I’m worried about you.”

I pull my hands back and study my nails. The pink ombre is a couple days old now and still looking good. But my nails are a lot safer than letting Hayden see how much I’m worried about myself too.

I double and triple-checked with Angel that he was still coming tonight. And even now, I’m low-key anxious that he’ll cancel last minute again. Honestly, what is up with that? Why do I care whether this random guy from the old neighborhood shows up at the club?

So we’ve been chatting and it’s been fun. So we did a video together and that was fun too. We’re just friends. We can’t be anything more. Why am I acting like a teenager getting all flustered over a first crush?

“I don’t like him,” I say, voice small. “He’s straight.”

“That’s never stopped a gay boy from falling for a straight boy.”

He’s right, obviously. It wouldn’t even be the first time it’s happened to me. Except none of my previous crushes or infatuations have ever felt like this. Those were fleeting, fun, a dizzying high that fizzled quickly. This is… something else entirely.

It’s not only that I can’t stop thinking about Angel. It’s more like I crave him. There’s been an ache lodged in the middle of my chest since we filmed our video and the ache’s only grown bigger and stronger with each passing day.

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