Page 1 of Lips of an Angel

Greed

noun

An excessive pursuit of material goods

Chapter 1

RALEIGH

My fingersfuriously smashed the buttons on the Switch controller, lobbing a banana peel behind me to throw my best friend off his tracks. Angel squirmed in the corner of my eye, and I smirked.

“You’re so going down this time!”

Right on cue, Angel removed a hand from his controller and touched the tip of his middle finger to his nose twice.

“No way, absolutely not!” I laughed without taking my eyes off the screen. I—well,Yoshi—was in first place and entering the final lap. Next to me, Angel repeated himself, dressing it up with a wiggle. “You always do this when I’m about to kick your ass,” I protested. “I’m not falling for it again.”

My gaze never broke from the game, but Angel’s squirming threatened to distract me. At the edge of my seat, I twisted and turned the controller like it would make a difference. Angel’s last-ditch attempt to throw me off included a spiky blue shell, but he was too late: I was across the finish line and watching Yoshi do his victory dance in the replay by the time it smashed into me.

Angel shot to his feet and threw his controller to the couch beside him. “I hate you,” he signed. He dashed down the hallway to our shared bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

I laughed, lounging back on the old couch that groaned under my weight. It wasn’t the comfiest, but it worked. We hardly spent any time on it anyway. I discarded my own controller onto the refurbished wooden coffee table and slid my phone from my pocket.

A minute of mindless scrolling through social media later, Angel reappeared. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a cheater,” I countered. I didn’t need to look up from my phone to know what he was signing. After fifteen years, I’d gotten pretty good at reading him.

“You try playing with a full bladder and see where that gets you.”

“Dude, Iknowyou do it on purpose.”

Angel, realizing I wasn’t going to fall for his shit, gave up his indignation with a grin and returned to his seat next to me. A new text appeared at the top of my screen, and an involuntary smile tugged the corner of my lips.

Angel whacked my arm with a pillow to get my attention. “Is that your ATM?” he signed.

“Will you stop calling her that?” Heat prickled up my neck, and I tugged on my collar. “That makes me sound like a gold digger.”

“So what do you give her in return for the designer clothes and Rolex watches?”

“Mind-blowing sex.”

Angel’s electric blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “So you’re a sugar baby then?”

“No, I’m no?—”

I froze mid-sentence. What was the right word for Kali Forbes? She wasn’t my girlfriend, but she wasn’tnotmy girlfriend either. Even though she traveled to Vegas on business often, she lived in California, so we’d kept things casual over the years. We hadn’t felt the need to put any labels on our relationship—we were content as we were. But other people only saw one thing when they looked at Kali: dollar signs. A wealthy investor, she loved to share, loudly and often. We only met in luxury hotel rooms, and I always left our encounters wearing something with a designer label attached to it. The most recent was a Gucci leather jacket worth over three grand because shehadto see me in it—even if she proceeded to immediately tear me out of it.

“Oh my god,” I whispered in realization, “I’m a sugar baby.”

Angel doubled over with laughter. Although it was at my expense, the sound was music to my ears. His laugh was infectious, and I was glad he hadn’t lost it along with his voice.

For his sake, though, I feigned offense. “I’m gladyoufind this amusing! I’m having an existential crisis over here.”

He tried to start signing, only to break into laughter again. “Is it worth giving up the sugar to not be a baby anymore?” he finally managed.

I pretended to think it over.

Angel gave me a shove. “I can’t take you seriously.”

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