Page 82 of Crimson Promises
Cautiously, she rubbed her fingers over the seam in my shirt. “Your wings were one of the most magnificent things I had ever seen.”
I closed my eyes and just bathed in her acceptance for a few brief moments. A dark shadow loomed in my mind. If she knew the entire truth, she would never forgive me. This was the closest version of the truth I could share with her. Anything else would not only put her in peril, but it could foil all my plans.
The absence of her warmth pulled me back to the present. I spun around and bent into a deep bow, trying to lighten the mood. “Why, thank you.”
A mischievous glint sparkled in her eye. “Who knew angels had manners.”
“We sure do, madam.” I winked. It was easier to be playful than somber with her. And I needed that right now.
Aurora backed up until her calves hit the couch, then tucked her knees under herself. I stretched out on the sofa opposite her.
“In an astronomically odd way, I get everything you mentioned. What I don’t comprehend is how did you know everything about me?”
Fuck. I stalled, wracking my brain to come up with a realistic explanation. “A lot of what I said was true. Some things were just a right guess. For some of the other things, part of being an angel is wielding a certain level of abilities. And I may have leaned on those abilities to try and impress you. Clearly, I didn’t intend for it to have the opposite effect.”
She paused, considering my answer. It seemed she was about to say more, but instead, she propped her chin into her hand. Nothing but blazing determination set into her gaze. “Heaven, angels, hierarchies, Ordinaries, Originals, The Council. I feel like my mind is a spinning top. It will take me some time to process that it’s all real.”
I scooted further down the couch.
“I completely understand,” I said, my voice sounding uncharacteristically hoarse. Of course, it was too much. Aurora needed time and distance. Would she even want to see me again? I came with all kinds of complications, while the angelfucker is a likable, average mortal who could offer her the white picket fence and everything that came with it.
Aurora climbed off the couch and sat directly before me on the floor. “But what you told me today doesn’t change anything about our relation—about us. If anything, things just got a heck of a lot more interesting. For instance, I fully expect you to use whatever angelic powers or mind craft you have to get us an A on that paper in Professor Spencer's class.”
I chortled. “I may need to be adequately motivated, but I’ll see what I can do." I didn’t expect Aurora's humor in all of this. Shock, yes. Suspicion, of course. Confusion, perhaps. But unflinching acceptance of who or what I am was an answer to a deep desire I didn’t even know I had.
I shook my head. That was a lie. I’d been increasingly drawn towards the woman she was becoming. If Lucifer could have pulled the object of my desire from the darkest corners of my mind, it would be Aurora. Her beauty and strength, fire and compassion. I wanted her all to myself. Never did I think that could be a remote possibility. But maybe now that she knew most of the truth, there could be a chance. Even if it was just for a little while.
Aurora averted her attention to digging her hands into the spaces between the seat cushions. I waited a few seconds, assuming she would explain, but nope, she just kept digging. “Is there something I can help you with over there?”
“Where’s your remote?”
“Not in the seat cushions.” I reached across and pushed on the coffee table. The lid slid back like the top of a convertible. I grabbed it and sat back on the coffee table while I turned the power on.
“Anything in particular you want to watch?”
Aurora tapped her chin. “What is the most realistic movie with angels in it?”
I leaned back into the cushions and extended my feet on the coffee table, one ankle crossed over the other. “There hasn’t been one I’ve seen, but I think the closest comes to a German film called Wings of Desire. But I think we could use something a little lighter.”
“13 Going on Thirty, it is.” She grabbed a pillow behind her and plopped it onto my lap. Once I hit play, she laid her head down, hair splayed out like a fan around it.
She laughed at something that played out across the screen, something about razzle red, but I wasn’t paying attention. Gently, I charted the map of her fawn waves with my fingertips. When she didn’t indicate she wanted me to stop, I began to weave pieces together until I worked my way up to sketching patterns on her scalp.
Aurora let out a little moan. I increased the pressure until it was more of a massage. She wrapped her arm around my thigh.
I wanted to urge her hand further, lose myself in her, but I didn’t want to push it. I was lucky enough she didn’t run out of here screaming. I was content enough to do something normal with her. So, I turned my attention back to Jenna and Matt and their happy ending, while trying to tune out on what a fucking rollercoaster of a day today had been. And how close I had been to losing any role in Aurora’s life, even if all I could be was her friend.
* * *
I was uncharacteristically warm as I looked around the dark room. A red and black tartan blanket was draped over my body. I closed my eyes for a moment to check the bond. She was nearby, I felt her. I peeked above the edge of the couch. Aurora was in the kitchen, quietly opening and closing cabinets. I soaked in the feeling of contentedness to have her here in my space.
“Sneaking around for more answers, are we?” I joked.
She jumped up and slammed a cupboard. “I wasn’t snooping. I was trying to look for something to eat. I’m hungry. I didn’t find anything earlier, but I hoped you had something I could munch on.”
“Yeah, about that, angels don’t need to eat.”
“But I’ve seen you eat food,” she balked.
