Page 54 of Angel

This is my favorite position with Angel, I’ve decided. He’s so solid and strong between my legs. I have full access to his broad shoulders, his furry chest, his rounded tummy. His hands brace me and support me. He’s so gentle and so tender.

And the best part: watching him as he watches me, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

I know this is a dream. The bed floats in a nonexistent room. There are no lights or cameras around us. Sebastian isn’t hovering at the corner of my eye.

This is my imagination indulging itself, fantasizing about what-ifs. What if Angel were actually mine? What if we could have a repeat of what happened in his truck, but in the luxury of a bed? I don’t want to let it go. I don’t want to wake up and face reality. I want to stay in this make-believe world forever.

My body drags me back to consciousness against my will and when I open my eyes, it’s worse than I expected.

Guilt hits me like a train, stealing my breath. Fuck. What did I do? Jesus motherfucking Christ, what did I do?

I didn’t plan on jumping Angel last night. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I was so happy just getting to sit in the truck next to him, getting that little slice of alone time together.

But then he turned his head at the last moment. I still can’t tell if it was an accident or on purpose. And when our lips met, I couldn’t help myself. Something came over me, possessed me, and suddenly I was in his lap. And holy fucking heaven did it feel so right being in Angel’s lap.

He didn’t hesitate for a single second. He didn’t need to be coaxed or convinced. He was as eager to kiss me as I was to kiss him. He held me so close, so tight. The sexy little gasps of pleasure he makes when I touch him… oh god, I don’t think he even knows he makes them.

I’ve never wanted someone the way I want Angel. I’ve never hungered for someone like this, craved someone like he’s fundamental to my survival. It’s like a beast has sprouted inside me, clawing and scraping at me, demanding that I go find Angel, that I plaster myself against him, that I crawl into him and lose myself there.

Hayden was right. I’m going to get hurt. There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed. I wouldn’t go so far as saying that I love Angel. But at this point, it’s practically inevitable. All it’d take is another sweet smile from him, another cute, oblivious text message, another flash of red across the tips of his ears. And I’m a goner.

Reluctantly, I force myself out of bed and to the bathroom. When I stumble out to the kitchen, Hayden is already there with a steaming mug of coffee in hand. He slides a second mug toward me and I gratefully chug it down.

He watches me with a wary eye. I know he wants to ask about Angel. I also know he won’t. He’ll wait for me to bring it up on my own.

“He didn’t come up,” I say, annoyed at how defensive I sound.

“Okay.”

“He didn’t,” I insist. I’m not sure why my hackles are rising.

“I believe you,” he says calmly, which only makes my hackles rise even more.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say about that?”

Shit. What’s wrong with me? Hayden is being understanding and I’m trying to pick a fight with him.

Hayden’s expression tightens around the edges. “What do you want me to say?”

I deflate. I don’t know what I want him to say. Maybe that I’m not making the biggest fucking mistake of my life? Maybe that it’s okay to be selfish and greedy and there won’t be any consequences later?

I set down my half-finished mug of coffee and shuffle toward Hayden. He opens his arms in time for me to help myself to a hug.

“I’m sorry,” I say, resting my chin on his shoulder. “I just…”

Hayden doesn’t make me say the words out loud. “I know.”

“You’re the best. I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckles softly. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

I sigh and pull away so I can give Hayden my best puppy-dog eyes. “Seriously. What am I going to do, Denny?”

He gives me a lopsided smile. “I don’t know, babe. I wish I did.”

He plants a quick kiss on my forehead before extracting himself to make breakfast. He’s been doing these overnight oats things with chia seeds and other healthy stuff that sound gross. I’m just thankful I have a fast metabolism that combined with my dancing lets me eat pretty much whatever. Hayden, on the other hand, is a bit of a health nut.

I leave him to his breakfast while I get ready for my dance class. I try to make it to two or three classes a week—pole or modern or ballet. I need the training to stay on top form for The Bronzed Rail. More importantly, it’s how I de-stress. I can’t obsess about Angel when I’m focused on moving my body.

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