Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
RHYS
At four o’clock sharp, my phone rings.
Teddy Bear.
I scramble for it, swiping at the screen a few times before it connects.
“Hello? Angel?” I call out before the phone is even at my ear.
“Hey.”
The single word is filled with so much emotion that my heart immediately seizes. I jump to my feet.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” If he’s hurt… if someone hurt him… I won’t be held responsible for what I do in retaliation.
“Nothing happened,” Angel says with a tired chuckle. “I just, um, finished work, and um, wondered if you were…”
“Yes! Yes, I’m at home. You want to come over?” I bounce on my toes, excitement skittering over my skin.
“Yeah, if that’s okay?” The shyness in his voice makes me simply ache for him.
“Of course it’s okay! You can come whenever you want!” I slap my hand over my eyes as my mind helpfully provides an image of Angel’s O-face. Not what I meant, but also, applicable.
“Yeah?” He sounds so hopeful and oh god, I want to make him come right now. Hard. Multiple times.
“Yeah.”
“I can pick up dinner along the way, if you haven’t eaten yet?”
I drop my head back and smile up at the ceiling. This is starting to sound an awful lot like a date, and god, I want it to be. So bad. If Hayden were here, he would be so disappointed. But I can’t help it. I just can’t say no.
“That sounds amazing. Pick up whatever you want. Surprise me.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
That simple phrase shouldn’t fill me with so much joy, but it does.
It takes about an hour for Angel to get here and I pace around the apartment the entire time, too amped up to stay still. I buzz him into the building, then wait at my door for him to climb up the stairs.
I’ve never had a construction-worker fetish before, but fuck me, I definitely have one now. Angel’s come straight from work, with his scuffed-up steel-toed boots and tattered jeans. He’s wearing a reflective vest on top of his fall jacket and his hair is flattened against his head from wearing a safety helmet all day. He’s covered in dust, dirt, and splatters of concrete. I’ve never seen anything sexier in my whole life .
His steps are sluggish and slow, like he’s been carrying something heavy for a really long time. Fatigue rolls off him in waves. And yet, when he sees me, he smiles, like I’m the finish line and he’s on the home stretch.
I step back to let him inside and the door swings shut behind him. Then I push him up against it and plaster myself to his front. I don’t care that my clothes will get dirty. I don’t care that he’s sweaty and gross from a whole day at work. All that matters is that he’s here.
Whatever this is between me and Angel, whether he’s just experimenting or he’s bi or gay or whatever. There’s no way I can walk away from him. However he wants me, for however long he wants me, I’ll take whatever I can get. Consequences be damned.
Standing on my tiptoes, I pull him down to meet me halfway. It’s a gentle kiss, a hello kiss, a melt-into-each-other-and-rest kiss.
The takeout bag he was carrying hits the floor and his hands come to my waist, around to the small of my back. He holds me to him, carefully at first, then more tightly. His arms wind around me and he bunches up the back of my shirt in his hands until he’s clinging to me. His knees give out and he slides down the door a couple inches.
“Angel? Babe? Teddy bear?” I brush my fingers across his cheeks, his brow, his lips. I comb them through his hair. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes are closed, thick dark lashes fanning across his rosy cheeks. “I told Mario,” he says softly.
It takes me a second to connect the dots, then the world narrows to this small space between us. There’s only one thing Angel could have told Mario that would have him acting like this now. But if he did… what does that mean? Why would he do that?
“Mario?” I ask, voice tight, heart pounding. “From the old neighborhood?”
Angel nods.
“What did you tell him?” I hold my breath, not sure I want to know the answer to my question.
“That… I’ve been seeing someone,” he speaks so quietly I can barely hear him even though I’m an inch away. “Seeing a guy.”
My fingers tighten on either side of his face.
He told Mario. That he was fucking a guy.
My heart swells with joy even as fear strikes deep. It can’t be that simple. There has to be a catch. It can’t be as easy as me wanting Angel to be gay and suddenly he is.
“Uh huh,” I croak.
“I didn’t tell him it was you, though. I…” He blinks, lashes fluttering, then hesitantly meets my gaze. “I didn’t know if you’d be okay with that.”
I swallow again, forcing the jumble of emotions down, and nod. “Yeah, I get it. Thanks for thinking of me.”
Angel stares at me, rich brown eyes so full of something I’m afraid to identify. “I’m always thinking of you.”
My heart stops. Oh god. Fuck. How am I supposed to resist that? How am I supposed to not fall for that? I send a silent apology to Hayden, wherever he happens to be right now.
I don’t know what this means or how Angel’s confession to Mario will change things. Maybe Angel will decide I’m not worth the risk of getting ostracized from the neighborhood. Maybe I’ll still get my heart broken. But it doesn’t matter .
Angel’s here now. And as long as he’s here, he’s mine.
I lean in for one more hard kiss, using the moment to get my heart beating again. We’re both panting when I break the kiss, and there’s a noticeable bulge in Angel’s jeans. But he’s been working all day, so my teddy bear needs food. Eat first. Sex later.
“Come on.” I slide my hand into his, intertwining our fingers. Grabbing the takeout bag, I lead him to the living room.
Angel unpacks the food on the coffee table while I grab plates and napkins and utensils.
“I got barbecue, I hope that’s okay,” he says when I drop down on the floor next to him.
“Yup. Love barbecue.” I mean, it’s fine. It’s not usually my go-to, but I enjoy it when I have it. But if Angel likes it, then I’ll have barbecue every freaking day.
He got us ribs and brisket, plus corn, mashed potatoes and Swiss chard. It’s way more than the two of us can finish and when I say so, he smiles shyly.
“I wasn’t sure if Hayden was here. And I figured you could have leftovers.”
I pause in the middle of scooping mashed potatoes onto my plate. He thought of Hayden. Hayden, who disapproves, who has been polite, but nowhere near as friendly as he usually is. Angel knows how important Hayden is to me and remembered to include him.
I lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” I murmur, and warm satisfaction spreads through me when his ears go pink.
“It’s nothing.” He gives me a little shrug.
I put a hand on his shoulder and wait for him to glance at me. “It’s everything . ”
He holds my gaze for a moment before his Adam’s apple bobs and he drops his gaze.
I set my plate aside and pull Angel into my arms. It’s a little awkward, with him sitting on the floor, back against the couch, and me kneeling next to him. His arms come around my waist and he buries his face into the crook of my neck, but my knees are in the way. He makes a small, frustrated sound while trying to tug me closer.
So I swing a leg over his thighs and settle myself snugly in his lap.
“Better?”
He nods, beard rubbing on my collarbone as he gives me a squeeze.
I hold him. Or we hold each other. In silence, for long moments. My eyes drift shut and I savor the feel of Angel against me, the thickness of his arms, the soft yet scratchy texture of his beard, the scent of sawdust that clings to him, fresh even after a full day of work.
I hold him until the tension in his body dissolves, until he breathes deep, full breaths.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, as I continue carding my fingers through his hair. “About Mario?”
He shrugs, his big body moving under me.
“How did he react? When you told him?”
Angel pulls back, but keeps his eyes downcast. His hands play with the hem of my shirt at my back. “He was surprised. Said I didn’t give off a vibe.”
I still as my anger surges. At the same time, a little voice at the back of my mind calls me a hypocrite. Isn’t that what I thought at first? Angel’s a rough, burly construction worker from the old neighborhood, so he has to be just like everyone else from there. Judgy and a tad homophobic, not so blatant that it’s obvious, just enough to make things uncomfortable.
But Angel’s nothing like them. He’s sweet, kind, caring, selfless. He’s special.
“Do you think he’ll tell anyone?”
Angel slowly shakes his head. “He said he wouldn’t.”
“Do you believe him?” Because I sure as fuck wouldn’t.
He takes a moment to think before answering. “I don’t know. I think so.”
Angel knows Mario a hell of a lot better than I do, but he’s also way more trusting than I am.
“Well, if he does, you tell me, and I will shred him.” I give Angel’s chest a poke to make my point. “I will tear him limb from limb. Don’t underestimate me because I’m small. These nails are reinforced and I know how to use them.” I hold my hand up and wiggle my fingers. The nails are a bright orange today to go with the peachy-pink color of my hair.
My threat—uttered in complete seriousness—draws a smile from Angel. “I know. I would never underestimate you.”
His vote of confidence makes my chest feel all warm and fuzzy. It makes me feel like I can do anything, overcome anything. Anything except…
Another question hovers on the tip of my tongue, one that I don’t have the guts to ask. Why did he tell Mario in the first place? Why now? Why today?
If this is just a phase, if this is just Angel exploring his sexuality before he meets a nice girl, gets married and has kids… then I don’t want to know. I don’t need to know. I’d rather live in my little make-believe world and pretend that Angel is mine forever.