Page 45 of Angel

I want to see him. I want to touch him. I want to sit in his lap and bury myself in him. But I’d settle for just being in the same damn room as him. Anything to ease this thing sitting on my chest and making it difficult to breathe.

It doesn’t help that Sebastian sent me a rough cut of the video. I might have spent most of yesterday watching it on repeat.

The look on Angel’s face during the blowjob scene is utterly priceless. So much obvious pleasure tempered by confusion. The conflicting emotions etched into every twitch of muscle, every deep groan, every heated glance.

If I close my eyes, I can still taste him on my tongue. I can still feel the stretch of my jaw and the way he hit the back of my throat.

Then at the end, when he was fucking me from behind… I hadn’t been able to see his face when we were doing it, and that was probably a good thing. I would’ve come prematurely a second time if I’d seen that look of reverence while he had his massive cock inside me. Like it wasn’t just fucking, not just dick in hole. Angel looked like he was going through a religious experience, one that shook him to the core.

I’ve been telling myself that none of it was real. It was a video and our job is to pretend we’re enjoying ourselves, even if we aren’t. But if I know anything about Angel, it’s that he’s not much of an actor. I seriously doubt he could fake that kind of reaction. No, I’m pretty sure what the camera captured was exactly what was going through his mind at that moment.

How can I not be “smitten” with him, as Anna so delightfully pointed out the other day? Angel is the epitome of smitt-able. It’s a wonder he isn’t already taken. The girls in the old neighborhood obviously don’t know a good man when they see one.

Hayden nudges me with his foot again when I’ve been silent for too long. “The thing is, I’m not convinced he’s as straight as he claims.”

My heart clenches so tightly it hurts. I haven’t let myself consider that possibility. But Hayden is right, damn the man, because the more I chat with Angel, the more my gaydar needle inches upward.

Hayden continues, “If he keeps saying he’s not gay, he might just be really deep in the closet. And honestly? That’s almost worse than falling for a straight boy.”

My head drops back as Hayden goes and drops one truth bomb after another. “I know,” I groan. “It is.” Because yeah, been there and done that too. Fuck.

“And yeah, you’re not super close to your parents, so maybe meeting his family isn’t that big a deal. But like, you deserve better than that, babe. You deserve someone who wants to parade you around on his arm. Someone who wants to show everyone he knows how much he loves you.”

Tears prickle my eyes and I frantically wave my hands in front of my face. I’ve just gotten my makeup on and I don’t have time to redo it all. “Denny! You’re gonna make me cry!”

Hayden chuckles and shifts to the front of his chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Come here.”

“Bitch,” I say, with more affection than heat, and let him pull me into a hug.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

I sniffle and blink back the moisture in my eyes. “I know. Thanks for always looking out for me.”

He gives me a squeeze. “Always.”

Anna appears in the doorway of the dressing room. “Rhys, baby girl, you’re up.”

I give Hayden a light kiss on the cheek before pulling away. I double-check my hair, my face, and my outfit, then take one last glance at my phone. Nothing. Sigh. Maybe something came up after all. I won’t be disappointed. I won’t. We’re just friends. If we’re even that. It’s fine. I’m fine.

I’m already turning away when the screen suddenly lights up again. And there it is in all its blue bubble glory.

Teddy Bear

I’m here! Near the bar. I overheard someone say you’re performing next. Break a leg!

My heart thunders as I read the message. He’s here. He actually made it. He’s in the audience. Waiting for me.

I gulp as I’m attacked by an unexpected burst of nerves. It’s not the typical excitement of going on stage—I get that all the time. This is different. This makes me want to hide in the dressing room.

What if I fall? What if I make a fool of myself in front of Angel? What if he thinks I’m a bad dancer? That I’ve been exaggerating how good I am? That I’m pathetic?

“Rhys,” Hayden steps in between me and the dressing room table, blocking my view of my phone. He takes me by the shoulders and gently turns me toward the door. “It’s time to go.”

He directs me out to the stage and it’s a good thing I’m an expert in walking in these platform boots, because I can’t really feel my feet at the moment. I’m basically floating, staying upright by sheer muscle memory.

“You’ve got this.” Hayden plants a quick kiss on my temple before disappearing through the door that leads to the front of house.

Anna gives me a concerned once-over. “You okay, baby girl? You’re not gonna hurl, are ya?”

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