Chapter 25
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
RHYS
I wake up to the scent of coffee. Dark. Rich. It makes my mouth water before I’m fully conscious.
I roll over. Wait. Something’s wrong. I’m alone in my bed, but I wasn’t earlier. The mattress is still a little warm under my hand.
Angel . My teddy bear. He spent the whole night with me, hugging me to him like I’m his teddy bear.
Where is he now?
I scramble out of bed and take a second to pull on the clothes I was wearing yesterday before bursting out of my room. The fragrant aroma of coffee hits me in the face and I breathe in deep. Following my nose, I end up in the kitchen with my jaw on the floor.
It’s Angel. Wearing his boxers and undershirt, necklace nestled in his chest hair. He’s got two mugs of coffee in front of him, and he’s in the middle of doctoring them. Well, one of them. Two heaping spoons of sugar and enough milk to make the whole thing go white .
That’s the way I take my coffee.
Angel finishes stirring, taps the spoon lightly on the edge of the mug before setting it aside, then holds out the mug to me. I take it with both hands, bringing it to my nose for another deep inhale.
“How did you know how I like my coffee?”
Angel hides his shy smile behind his own mug of black. “I asked Hayden.”
“Hayden?” My head snaps around and only then do I notice that his door is closed. He must still be asleep.
“He came home when I got up to go pee,” Angel explains.
My heart skips a beat. It’s stupid. It’s just coffee. But the fact that Angel thought to ask, in the dead of night, when he was probably still half asleep…
I busy myself with taking a long gulp of the sweet, milky brew. If I dwell on how sweet Angel is, I’m going to start crying again. Ugh. I still can’t believe I did that. In the middle of fucking sex. I mean, probably the best fucking sex I’ve ever had in my life… but still. God.
Angel sets down his mug, then turns to open the fridge. He ducks to peer inside, then starts pulling things out onto the counter. Butter. Onions. Mushrooms. Green peppers. Eggs. Cheese. The leftover brisket from yesterday.
“What are you doing?” I ask suspiciously. The kitchen is Hayden’s domain. I’m pretty useless in here, but Hayden gets all fancy with his food. Our fridge is always fully stocked, even if I don’t know what to do with the stuff in there.
“I’m making you breakfast.”
I bite back the “why?!” that’s hovering at the tip of my tongue. Then I fight back the tears prickling my eyes again. How is he so goddamn sweet? That’s not normal, that’s inhuman, that’s… I sniffle. Fuck. Fuck!
What in the holy hell is wrong with me? Did I take something that threw my hormones out of whack? That has to be it. There’s no reason for me to cry!
“Rhys?”
Ah, shit.
Angel comes toward me, concern etched on his face.
I take a step backward, holding up one hand to keep him away. “No, I’m fine! I’m totally okay! There’s nothing wrong!”
He freezes mid-step, his concerned expression growing more hurt.
Ah, god-fucking-damn it!
“No! I don’t mean… I mean… fuck, I don’t know!”
Now Angel looks worried again, like he might have a freakout on his hands. And to be honest, he might. I don’t know why I’m reacting this way and that scares me just as much as the love I feel for Angel.
“Rhys?” He takes a cautious step forward, slow and measured, like I’m a skittish animal he’s trying to soothe.
I’m torn. A part of me wants to run away and hide from him and from my feelings. Just bury my head under a pillow until this whole thing resolves itself and I can lick my wounds in peace.
Another part of me wants to run into Angel’s arms and bury my head in that little space between his shoulder and his neck. I want to pretend just a little bit longer, put off reality for another day. Let myself live in this fantasy world until real life comes knocking.
Make-believe wins out .
I rush into Angel’s arms, careful not to spill any of the coffee he so tenderly made for me. He cradles me to him, one big hand wrapped around the curve of my waist, the other tangling in my hair. I nuzzle the bare skin of his neck, breathing in the scent of fresh sawdust. Mixed with the coffee, it makes me feel like we’re enjoying the early morning in a cabin hidden in the woods.
Angel doesn’t ask me what’s wrong. He doesn’t ask why I’m all teary and acting weird. He just holds me, rocking me back and forth until my emotions finally settle. Thank god, because I wouldn’t know what to tell him. I certainly can’t say that I’ve fallen in love with him. Dear lord, that would be worse than bad.
Eventually, Angel kisses me on the head. “Breakfast?”
I nod.
He pulls away, keeping his hands on my arms until he’s sure I’m steady on my feet, then he goes back to sorting all the ingredients he pulled out of the fridge.
“What are you making?” I ask, inching a little closer.
“Omelets?” He glances at me with a question in his eyes. “Is that okay?”
I smile and beat back my emotions. “Yeah, they’re my favorite.”
“I know.”
His ears go pink and ngh , I want to kiss them so bad. I want to nibble on them to see if they’re as sweet as they look. Christ, I’m fucked. So very fucked.
Angel chops up the veggies and beats the eggs. He looks like he knows what he’s doing in a kitchen, and I watch with my chin resting in my hand. My stomach is filled with butterflies trying to escape, and my heart is beating erratically. Yearning stirs deep in my soul, yearning for this: simple mornings with someone who knows how I like my coffee, who makes omelets because he knows they’re my favorite, whose mere presence makes me feel all gooey inside.
I want to wake up every day with Angel’s scent lingering on the pillow next to mine. I want to watch his ears go pink when I tease him. I want to melt into the strong comfort of his embrace.
Angel plates up two perfectly folded omelets and piles on a mountain of hash browns. The finished product looks like something I’d order from one of the brunch places the boys and I go to. It looks amazing and smells divine.
He sets a plate down in front of me at the small table tucked into the corner of the kitchen, then takes the seat across from me.
“This is…” I shake my head, overwhelmed by him, by my feelings, by everything.
“It’s nothing.” Angel shrugs.
I reach across the table to grasp his hand. “It’s not nothing.”
He flips his hand over so we’re touching palm to palm, then gazes into my eyes like he’s trying to memorize how they look. I pour everything I feel, every ounce of affection and adoration into my expression, hoping he’ll see them and recognize them for what they are. Love. Unexplainable. Unexpected. But so real it hurts.
“We should eat before it gets cold,” Angel says, and I reluctantly let go of his hand.
The omelet tastes even better than it smells, an orgasm of flavors exploding on my tongue. I don’t usually eat right after waking up, but I gobble this up like I haven’t eaten in days.
“Is it okay?” Angel asks.
“Teddy bear, this might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
His ears flush pink, and his cheeks scrunch into a smile. God, why does he make it so hard to not love him?
“Do you cook a lot?” I ask, before scooping up another mouthful of omelet.
Angel nods. “I’ve been cooking with Mama since before I can remember. We do big family dinners every Sunday. It was just the two of us for a long time, but then my sister and nephew moved back in with Mama last year.”
The mention of Sunday dinners makes my heart twinge. “My family does Sunday dinners too. I don’t go, though.”
Angel shoots me a concerned look, but he doesn’t ask why. It’s so obvious, he doesn’t have to. Why torture myself with hours of awkward eating every week? They stopped bugging me to go not long after I moved out, and I’ve never bothered inviting myself.
“How is it? Having your sister and nephew around, I mean?” I remember Angel’s sister. She’s older, I think. Pretty, popular, and smart, too.
“It’s okay,” he says with a shrug. “She disappeared with her boyfriend for a while. But he left her after she had Jonah.”
“Jerk.”
Angel’s lips twist into a sad half-smile. “Yeah, he is.”
“Do you like having them around now? ”
Angel blinks like he doesn’t understand the question. “Um, I guess I do?”
Under the table, I nudge his leg with my foot. “You don’t sound so sure.”
He squirms a little. “I dunno. I’ve never thought about it. They’re family, so…” He shrugs, like that’s all the answer that’s needed.
I get it, even if I don’t agree. Family is everything in the old neighborhood. You do anything for family. Bend over backward, deny yourself, sacrifice. It doesn’t matter if they’re assholes or abusive or don’t deserve it. Loyalty is paramount.
Which is bullshit, in my humble opinion. But then, no one from the old neighborhood has ever asked for it. Whatever.
“How did you…” Angel trails off, gaze lowered as he pokes at a few of the last hash browns on his plate. “When you moved out, how did you… you know?”
“How did I survive?” I clarify, keeping my tone light and teasing. I know what he’s asking. How did I do it? How did I break away from everything that was familiar and set up my own life without the support of family and the neighborhood?
It’s not something that happens back there. People don’t up and leave. You grow up there, get married there, have kids there, and the cycle never ends.
The pink on Angel’s ears darkens. “No, I mean, well, actually, yeah, kinda?”
“Simple. I didn’t fit. They didn’t really want me around. So it was a win-win situation.” I flick my wrist, like I’m waving off an annoying fly. That’s what it felt like sometimes. Getting out of the neighborhood was like finally killing the incessant buzzing in my ears.
Angel’s brow furrows. “It was that easy?”
I chuckle. “Well, no, I said it was simple, but it wasn’t easy. I started camming to support myself. You know, just my dick, my hand, and my phone. I’d throw a few dildos in there sometimes.” I smile at the memory of the early days, trying to figure out how to get the right angles, how to upload the damn videos…
“It was only supposed to be a temporary thing to help pay rent and cover the bills until I could support myself with dancing. But then, the porn took off and there was no way I could make as much as a dancer, so…” I shrug, then continue, “Plus, it’s a really welcoming environment. I know that sounds weird, but I’ve never had anyone in the industry look at me strangely or say anything hurtful. It’s surprisingly inclusive and respectful.”
Angel’s ears have faded to a mostly normal shade of pink. His expression is thoughtful, with a hint of curiosity and a dash of wistfulness. “Your family doesn’t know, do they?”
Laughter bursts from me at the thought of my parents finding out how I’ve been supporting myself for the better part of the past decade. “Oh god, no, can you imagine? They’d have aneurysms. I think Nico knows, though. He’s never asked me about it, and I never mention it. But he’s always had this… ‘I’m cool with whatever, I just don’t want the details’ thing with me.”
Angel nods in understanding. “Nico’s a good guy.”
“Yeah, he is.”
We fall silent with me watching Angel while he’s lost in his thoughts. There’s so much longing in his eyes, but for once I can’t read any more than that. What is he longing for? What does he want? I want to give it to him. I want to shower him with every good thing he could possibly desire.
If only he’d let me, I would give him everything.