Chapter 30
CHAPTER
THIRTY
ANGEL
My heart pounds heavily against the inside of my ribs the entire ride back to Staten Island. But as terrified as I am, there’s also a sense of rightness that I’ve never experienced before.
The past several months have been a series of firsts for me. First kiss with a man, first time having sex, first porn video, first gay nightclub. But this first feels more important. It feels weightier.
It’s like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this moment. Like my whole reason for existing boils down to this one thing: taking Rhys home. Bringing his brightness into the blandness of my world. Demolishing the last wall in the box I’ve been living in.
And then I’ll be free. Free to fly. Free to soar. Free to be myself and be with Rhys.
We don’t speak much in the truck. Our hands are clasped across the center console, both of Rhys’s sandwiching mine. His thumb rubs absentmindedly over my skin, a steady back and forth that ticks down the seconds until we get home.
Rhys takes a deep breath when we turn onto the street of the neighborhood where we both grew up. When I sneak a glance in his direction, he’s staring resolutely out the window, determination in his eyes.
Doubt trickles through me, followed closely by guilt. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought him back here? To a place he’s worked so hard to escape? Maybe we should have gone to his place instead, even if Hayden would’ve been there.
But when Rhys turns to me, his gaze softens and his lips curl into the most tender smile I’ve ever seen. I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back.
We’ll be okay. I have to trust in that. Whatever happens, we’ll find a way through.
I pull into the driveway in front of the duplex I share with Mama. The curtains on the front windows of the house are open, but there’s no movement inside. The weather is just chilly enough that the neighbors aren’t sitting out on their front porches anymore. There isn’t anyone around to see us arrive.
“Wait here,” I say as I turn the engine off and hop out of the truck.
Rhys’s brow furrows in confusion, but I just hurry around to the passenger-side door. I open it and hold out my hand to him.
He stares at it for a moment before he sniffles and gives me a watery-eyed smile. He slips his hand into mine and I help him down, carefully shutting the door behind him.
Opening the car door for a date is kind of an outdated thing. It’s probably even a bit silly these days, but joy bubbles up inside me at this small gesture. I want to show Rhys how much I care. I want him to know how precious and important he is to me.
I lead him to the side door. It opens onto the stairs that take us up to my apartment. Once we’re inside, Rhys stands in the small foyer, examining the space. I try to see it through his eyes, try to imagine what he would notice.
The kitchen and dining room is right in front of us and beyond it is the living room. The bathroom is tucked in behind the kitchen, and the bedroom branches off from the living room. It’s simple. Basic. But it’s all I’ve ever needed.
Rhys glides forward, running his hands along the butcher-block countertop, then across the backs of the wooden dining chairs. He peeks into the bathroom with its clawfoot bathtub and pedestal sink. I follow after him as he moves into the living room. He squeezes the plush leather upholstery of the oversized couch, then ventures into the bedroom and smooths his hands up and down a beam of my four-poster bed.
“This place is amazing,” he says in a hushed voice.
I blink. Of all the reactions I thought he would have, this isn’t one of them. “You think so?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles and turns to me with a cocked eyebrow. “How much of this stuff did you do yourself?”
I look around. At the hardwood flooring and paneled accent wall behind the bed. At the built-in shelving unit that houses the TV in the living room. At the custom-fit cabinets in the kitchen and the mosaic tiles in the bathroom.
“Um, pretty much all of it?” My ears warm at the admission. I don’t know why. It shouldn’t be surprising. I’m a construction worker, so I know how to gut reno an apartment unit. Why wouldn’t I do the work myself? “I mean, Mario and a couple other guys helped sometimes.”
Rhys steps up to me and slips his arms around my waist. I gather him to me.
“Of course you did all of it. And of course you wouldn’t take any of the credit.” Rhys shakes his head. “Angel, you’re incredibly talented.”
I scratch my jaw. “I’m okay. This stuff isn’t that hard.”
Rhys rolls his eyes, but he’s still wearing a teasing smile. “Okay, fine, it isn’t that hard—for a trained and experienced professional.”
I duck my chin as my ears grow hotter. “Do you, um, would you like something to drink? Beer? Water? I don’t have anything fancy like margaritas or anything. But I can go get some if you want!”
“I don’t need anything else.” He takes my hand and leads me back to the living room. He pushes me down onto the couch, then deposits himself into my lap. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”
I sigh into the kiss he gives me. Nothing rushed or urgent. We have all the time in the world to explore each other’s mouths, draw our tongues into a dance, nibble on each other’s lips. My dick plumps in my jeans, even though I came my brains out earlier in the day. But it’s impossible not to react when I’ve got Rhys all flexible and pliant in my arms.
He’s wearing a pair of yellow flared pants that hug his bum and his thighs, soft and fuzzy as he grinds himself down on me. My hands slip under his big sweater, and the skin at the small of his back is hot against my palms.
We make out for long minutes that stretch on and on. Licking and tasting and losing ourselves in one another. I’m dizzy from lack of oxygen, drunk on Rhys’s mouth, floating high and never wanting to come back down.
“Teddy bear,” Rhys murmurs, resting his forehead against mine when we finally pause for a breath.
“Hmm.”
He pulls back just an inch, just enough to run his thumbs over my brows, my cheeks, down the line of my nose. I turn my head and press a kiss into his palm.
Rhys sighs, a distinct note of resignation, hands falling to land gently on my chest.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, not liking the hint of sadness in his eyes.
He smiles and I can tell he’s trying to pretend that everything’s okay, that everything’s fine.
“You can tell me,” I say, pouring every ounce of sincerity I possess into my expression. “I’m a good listener.”
“I know you are.” Rhys’s gaze drops as he fiddles with the buttons of my shirt. “You’re such a good person.”
I don’t know where he’s going with this, but a warning light goes off in the back of my mind. “You’re a good person too.”
He chuckles softly. “Yeah, I’m not bad. But you… you’re a good person.” He lifts his gaze and looks directly into my eyes. “You’re the best person.”
I take his hands in mine and hold them to my chest. My heart is beating hard now, a heavy thump that reverberates through me. He must be able to feel the steady rhythm under our clasped hands.
“ You’re the best person,” I repeat back to him. “You’re the best person I know. You’re so kind and patient with me. You’ve never laughed at me or thought I was dumb. You listen to me like the things I say are important.”
Rhys sniffles and his fingers clutch at the fabric of my shirt.
“You’re so brave. Look at the life you’ve built for yourself. It’s so much more than anything anyone from around here has done. You know who you are and what you want, and you don’t let anyone stand in your way. I wish I was brave like you.”
“You are. You are brave.” A single tear escapes Rhys’s lashes and lands on my shirt.
“Not like you. You were so young when you left home. I could never have done that.”
A second tear escapes, leaving another round wet spot on my shirt.
I don’t know where these words are coming from, or how I’m able to string them all together into sentences that actually make sense. They’re thoughts I’ve had for a long time now, but I never imagined I would have the courage to say them out loud. But now that they’re spilling out of my mouth, I can’t stop them.
“You’re basically famous.”
A choked laugh bursts from Rhys.
“Your online fans love you. They’re always copying your fashion style, asking you for makeup tips. People go to The Bronzed Rail every week just to watch you dance. You’re the star of the show.”
Rhys shakes his head with a self-deprecating smile.
“You know that day? Your dad’s birthday party? When I found you upstairs?”
He gives me a small nod.
“I kinda felt like a creep for following you up there. ”
“You followed me?”
“Yeah,” I admit sheepishly. “I was out front with the guys when you arrived. That was the first time I’d seen you in years and you… you took my breath away. I went inside to look for you and saw you go upstairs. I couldn’t stop myself from following you.”
That same feeling wells up inside me again. The fascination, the draw. The sense that my destiny lies in this direction, with this man. The need to be near him, to be in his presence, to see him and be seen by him. I couldn’t deny it back then, and I can’t deny it now.
“I love you, Rhys.”
He gasps, fingers tightening on my shirt, eyes going wide with shock.
“I know I’m a nobody and I don’t have anything to offer you. I’m not cool or sexy or charming. I’m just…” I shrug. “A simple guy with a simple life. I’m not glamorous or fashionable or…”
I try to keep breathing as my heart tries to beat its way out of my chest. “You don’t have to return the feelings or anything. I’d never expect you to love me back the same way. I just… I just wanted you to know. You’ve changed me. You’ve made me a better man. I was just going through life before, but not really living. I didn’t know how much I was missing out on until you showed me. I?—”
Rhys stops me with his fingers on my lips and my stomach twists into knots. Ugh, shoot, I’ve been rambling like an idiot. He’s probably stopping me so I don’t dig myself even deeper into a hole. I’ve embarrassed myself enough.
“Teddy bear.” Rhys’s voice cracks, it’s so thick with emotion. Tears trickle steadily down his cheeks. “I love you too.”
I blink for a second, my brain not at all trusting my ears. He couldn’t have said what I think he said. Why in the world would he? There’s no reason for him to love me, of all people. He could have anyone he wanted—someone smarter, hotter, funnier, more interesting, more exciting, more full of life. I’d only weigh him down and drag him back to a world he wants nothing to do with.
“I love you,” Rhys says again. Slower this time so there’s no way for me to mistake it. “Because you are braver and more courageous than you give yourself credit for. Because you don’t try to be someone you’re not. You are unapologetically yourself, even if you’re just discovering who that person is. You’re thoughtful and caring and you give so much of yourself to people who don’t always deserve it. You’re good, Angel. And I want to be someone who deserves you.”
“You are!” I insist, speaking through the fingers still on my lips. “You deserve more than me!”
“No, teddy bear, you deserve more than me . You deserve everything.”
“I don’t want everything. I just want you.”
A choked sob escapes Rhys’s throat right before he smashes his lips against mine. It’s not really a kiss. More just us breathing each other in. He clings to me and I hold him tight, both of us trying to get closer, trying to squeeze out every offending molecule of air between us.
I want to be inside him. I want to be one with him. I want to bury myself so deep inside Rhys that I will never be able to leave.
Bang! Bang! Bang !
We jump at the loud knocking on my door.
“Angel! Why is the door locked? I know you’re in there! It’s time to make dinner! Do you have that girl in there?”
Rhys and I stare at each other in horror. He doesn’t need me to tell him who it is, but I do anyway.
“Mama.”