Page 34 of Never Fall for an Angel

“I’m sure you’d love to know all about that, wouldn’t you.”

She falls back like I’d slapped her.

“What?” she barks.

Bitter resentment coils in my chest that’s completely unfounded.

Bailey’s married. She just announced she’s pregnant. Christian literally told me he didn’t want her, but people lie all the time. Why should he be any different?

“And me?” I breathe, my heart thudding awkwardly in my ears. “If I asked you if you had a thing for me, would you tell the truth?”

“The truth?” he chuckles darkly, and my stomach drops to my toes. “The truth is a dangerous thing, little devil.”

I shake my head. Whatever he said, it doesn’t matter now. He proved he didn’t mean it when he disappeared without a word. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I just want to be alone.”

“But Mila—”

“I’mfine, Bailey,” I snap, stepping into the darkness of my bedroom. “Go back to the party.”

I shut the door on her before she can say anything else because, quite frankly, I just want to be alone.

I can’t explain the visceral reaction my body had to hearing his name. It’s like he reached a hand into my chest and ripped that pain back to the surface, and now, I’m right back at square one.

Just a girl desperately in love with a man who doesn’t want her.

Gritting my teeth, I throw the phone on my bed and rip out the clip holding my hair. Kicking off my shoes, I start towards the bathroom.

I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. Screw dinner.

Only the moment I turn around, I come face to face with a pair of deep blue eyes that are so intense, they burn me to a crisp on the spot.

If I thought hearing his name was bad, seeing him live and in the flesh may as well be an out-of-body experience.

I fall back a step, nearly crashing to the bed when I stumble into it. My heart bottoms out, my skin tingles, and heat slips through my veins.

It’s really him. He came back for me.

And then, as quickly as the aching desire filled me, it’s replaced with anger.

“Oh . . . it’s you.”

If Christian’s surprised by the iciness in my tone, he doesn’t show it.

He steps out from the shadows, his eyes dark. My heart threatens to somersault out of my chest when the familiar scent of his skin washes over me.

God . . . is it possible to miss someone’s scent?

My chest aches with a pain I’ve never recognized. Remembering the way he used to hold me. So careful, but like I was his to break if he pleased. I’ve never felt so adored . . . cherished.

Then he left, and I realized it was all a lie.

Every. Single. Word.

“What are you doing here, Christian?” I have to work to keep my voice indifferent when all I really want to do is fall into his arms.

Pathetic, right?

I can feel the carefully constructed façade threatening to crumble. Three months with no word. Not even a fuck you, Mila.

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