Page 17 of Fallen Angel
“Since I was sixteen,” she replied.
“How old are you now?” he asked. She looked so young. He’d been worrying that she wasn’t even legal.
“Twenty-one.”
He smiled. “Good.”
∞∞∞
Angel put her half-finished coffee on the counter. “Listen, Ethan, I really have to go.” He stood, leaning against the counter with capable ease. She eyed his washboard stomach and wide chest. A thin silver chain and small cross hung around his neck, and he wore a pair of worn jeans, slung low on his hips. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing at the sight of him. Her palms were sweating so much, she worried she was going to drop her coffee. She had to get out of there before she said or did something stupid.
“Give me a minute,” he said before he disappeared back down the hallway.
She crossed to the large picture window, which looked out onto the Common, and tried to steady her breathing. A few minutes later, he came back into the room wearing a plain white t-shirt and work boots. Her heart started to race again at the sight of him, his strength, his stunning blue eyes, his sideways smile that made her insides melt. She turned away and gazed out the window. “With a view like this, you can almost feel like you’re escaping the city,” she said, trying to appear unaffected by his presence.
“You’re not a city girl?”
Her stomach fluttered. He was standing right behind her. When he spoke, she had felt his warm breath on her neck, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body.
She swallowed hard. “Actually, I was born and raised in Manhattan.”
“Really?” The surprise in his voice forced her to turn and meet his gaze.
“I’m from New York, too. Did you come here when you lost your family?” he asked.
She nodded, unable to speak. Her heart thumped her chest so hard, she worried he could hear it pound.
“Me too,” he said, his voice low. Then he stepped even closer. She resisted the urge to press her hands on his broad chest. She felt this pull to him, this unbreakable connection.
He continued to hold her gaze, his breathtaking eyes searing a pathway to her soul. Then suddenly his brow furrowed with concern. “Why do you want to escape the city? Are you in trouble?”
She shook her head and took a step back, trying to regain her composure. “No, nothing like that. I just really like the country. I try to go up a few times a year. You know, stay in one of those cheap motels off 95.” She looked around his place. “Not that you know what I’m talking about. I’m sure you don’t frequent roadside motels.”
“I know more about cheap motels than you think.” He grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter. Then he crossed to a closet and opened the door and grabbed one of several helmets. “It will be big, but it’ll work,” he said as he set a black helmet on a nearby table. Then he reached for his black leather jacket and held it open for her to put on.
She shook her head. “I’ll be okay. I’m not cold.”
“It’s for safety.” Then he flashed her a smile that made her knees weak. “You have to dress for the slide, not the ride.”
She smiled shyly as she put her arm in the sleeve. He pulled the worn leather over her shoulders. His smell surrounded her. She had to resist bringing the sleeve to her nose, though she longed to inhale his masculine scent. His jacket had been in the closet. Still, she would have sworn she could feel heat from his body pour off the leather. The sleeves dangled well past her fingers, and the bottom hem skimmed the middle of her thighs.
A slight smile tugged at one side of his lips as he looked down at her. Then he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on,” he said, grabbing the helmet. “I’ll drive you home.”
While they rode through the city, Angel couldn’t help but wish she didn’t have to wear the big helmet. She preferred the feel of the wind whipping through her hair. And more than anything, she wanted to rest her cheek against Ethan’s strong back. Still, his insistence about her safety flooded her heart with warmth. So, too, did the memory of his tenderness with her the night before. Not only had he saved her, he had taken care of her, soothed her, put her to bed.
She couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of her.
Beneath the cover of her helmet’s visor, she smiled freely, feeling safe and wanted for the first time in so many years.
But when they arrived at her rundown apartment, her smile faltered. She felt self-conscious as she led him up the cement front stairs and opened the entryway door.
“Wait,” he said abruptly behind her, causing her to jump. “Doesn’t this door stay locked?”
She let her shoulders relax. “It’s supposed to, but the lock broke and the super hasn’t gotten around to fixing it yet.”
A flash of anger crossed his face. “We’ll have to remedy that.”
She didn’t want to tell him that he would be wasting his time. She had called the super three times just that month to get the lock on the door fixed, and each time he blew her off.
