Chapter 25
We watched How to Train Your Dragon as Ivan thought it would inspire Nox, though neither of us said anything to Nikki about the giant kitten in her lap.
The credits rolled, Ivan snoozed, Peanut Butter curled up on his back where he lay on the floor, and Nikki petted Nox with one hand while doodling with the other.
There was something to be said for best friends who, while maybe being freaked out about my sudden power influx, refused to let that get in the way of our weird relationship, which included fangirling over K-pop stars, anime stans, and sharing pizza while drinking boba.
It was almost midnight, and my emotional reserves were fried.
I wanted to sleep, but the fact that Angel hadn’t shown up made my heart break all over again.
My phone hadn’t pinged with a text, nor had he called, and I’d forced myself to focus on the here and now instead of the phone and my broken love life.
The knock on the door was so faint I barely heard it. In fact, I thought I might have imagined it if not for Nox perking up and looking at the door.
Was it another shadow attack? Unlike the last time, all the lights were on in the apartment, and I caught a glimpse of brightness and shadow under the door—like a person on the other side—not darkness come to life.
I made my way over, careful, forcing myself to breathe steady.
No monsters today, I promised myself as I peered through the peephole.
My breath caught. Angel stood haloed by the hallway light; his shoulders tight beneath his leather jacket.
I unlocked and opened the door, heart in my throat.
Angel’s dark eyes met mine, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the space between us. He looked good. Tired, but the same incredibly handsome man who’d drawn me in the first time I saw him.
“Hi,” I said stupidly.
“Hey,” he said, his fingers flexing on a duffel bag gripped in his left hand. The right one, the one I’d injured, was stuffed in his jacket pocket. How bad was it? My stomach roiled at the thought.
“You okay?” I whispered, hating myself for hurting him, but I couldn’t pull my gaze from the hidden hand.
He tugged it out of his pocket, holding it out for me. A hint of a scar traced a rune through the scattering of his tattoos on the back of his hand, faint but marring the art.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
Angel let out a long breath, stepping into me. His arm slid around my waist. For three heartbeats I resisted, my hands hovering awkwardly between us, afraid to touch him. But he yanked me flush against him, his body warm and solid, and I broke.
I pressed my face into the hollow of his throat, breathing in the faint musk of his skin beneath.
His pulse hammered against my lips, betraying the calm of his embrace.
One of my hands fisted in the back of his jacket while the other slipped beneath the fabric to rest on his skin, absorbing the smooth heat of him.
We stood in the doorway too long to play it casual, but neither of us tried to speak. When I finally leaned back, Angel’s grip tightened briefly before loosening, his fingers caressing my side beneath my shirt as if unwilling to lose that touch.
Twelve hours of loneliness dissolved in the heat of that contact.
All I could hope for was his forgiveness and patience.
How had he become essential in the short amount of time I’d known him?
It couldn’t be this mate-bond thing. And before him, I’d never believed in love at first sight.
Lust, sure, but love? Holy fuck, was I there already?
Did I love him? Was this consuming need to be with him, protect him, just exist in his presence, love?
Behind me, Nikki whistled low under her breath. “Damn. You gonna let him in, or you two just gonna eye-fuck in the doorway all night?”
Angel’s mouth twitched, but he raised a brow at me in question.
My throat tightened as I stepped aside, pulling out of his embrace as he crossed the threshold.
The familiar scent of leather and his slight cat scent wrapped around me like a promise.
If we had been alone, I might have thrown myself into his arms and asked him to erase the separation with his kisses.
Instead, I gripped the side of the door, as though holding it open kept me grounded in formality.
Nikki stretched and unseated Nox. She tugged the page out of her sketchbook and put it on the side table.
“Well, gentlemen, as much as I adore BL K-drama, seeing my best friend as the star is a little much for me.” She ruffled Ivan’s hair as she passed, earning a sleepy grumble.
“Up, kiddo. Your brother’s got company.”
Ivan blinked awake, his gaze landing on Angel. For a long moment, the two just stared at each other, as if some silent shifter communication passed between them. Then Ivan nodded and scooped up Peanut Butter. Nox darted across the room and into Ivan’s room.
“Night, Angel.” Ivan glanced at me and said, “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Nikki slipped by us, giving me a wink as she dashed across the hall and vanished into her apartment. Ivan grabbed another slice of cold pizza and made his way to his room. I blinked after him as his door shut, leaving Angel and me still standing awkwardly in the entry, door open.
“Sorry,” I grumbled, hating to leave his touch for even a few seconds as I shuffled him out of the doorway, closed it, and locked it. “I put your pizza in the oven. I can heat it up if you want.”
Angel set his bag down carefully, the weight of everything unsaid pressing between us. My gaze fell back to the scar on his hand.
“Does it still hurt?” My heart hammered in my throat at the question, and I looked up to meet his eyes, waiting for an accusation or a confession of my cruelty for hurting him.
“No,” Angel said.
We stood there another long minute, the apartment silent beyond the distant click, click, click of the decorative clock on the wall above the dining room table.
“Do you want me to warm up your pizza?”
“I didn’t come for pizza.”
The silence stretched between us, weighted with everything unsaid. His gaze flicked toward the door to my bedroom, then back to me. “You look exhausted. Did you sleep at all?”
I swallowed hard. “I slept.” The sort of dead sleep that happened only when I’d pushed myself too hard, and it hadn’t been restful at all. “You?”
He reached for me, and I flinched, afraid of hurting him again. “Jude…”
“I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Everything happened so fast.”
“I know,” he said again.
“It’s not an excuse,” I added. “I totally understand if you want Xavier to sever our bond.”
“I don’t.”
I stared at him, heart hammering in fear, but a touch of hope rose in my gut. “You don’t?”
“Jude…” he began but stopped, as if struggling to decide what to say. “How about we get some sleep? Talk in the morning when we’re both rested and clearheaded?”
I blinked and nodded. “I can sleep on the couch. You can have my bed,” I said quickly.
“No,” Angel sighed. He caught my arm, gently stopping my retreat. “I just want to hold you. Please.”
The please undid me. Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision, but I let him pull me into his arms. What had I done in some other life to deserve this man? Did he get how unworthy I was?
“Breathe,” he whispered, breath warm on my cheek. Angel guided me into my bedroom and closed the door, leaving the rest of the apartment, lights and all, behind. His touch sent sparks of wild emotion through me—part guilt, part desperate relief—and part insatiable need.
He shrugged off his jacket, the lamplight catching the new scar again. Was there a way to heal it? Would the absence absolve me? No. Fuck, I hated all this.
“Angel, I—”
“You didn’t do this on purpose,” Angel said, lifting his hand to trace the scar.
“But I hurt you.”
“I saw the car,” Angel said. “I made the choice to put myself between you and it. I expected pain. Hoped I’d be strong enough to stop it from hurting you.”
I blinked at him, letting the words sink in.
“A split-second choice on both our parts,” he added. “I heard the damn thing moving before it ever came flying through the door. I should have picked you up and thrown you up the stairs. But we all make mistakes in those half-seconds between chaos.”
I stared at him, the memory replaying in my head. How fast it had happened, and the pure instinct to enact the shield. “I barely thought. I just reacted.”
“Which probably saved our lives.” He held up his injured hand. “I think this was because you had focused the shield there. If we strengthen our connection, broaden it, we can prevent this from happening in the future.”
“Or I can accidentally light you up like a Roman candle. No, thanks.”
“Jude,” Angel said with a heavy sigh. He cupped my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb, the caress gentle and grounding.
“You are struggling to trust yourself.” He put his thumb over my lips as I opened my mouth to protest. “Trust me. Okay? Right now, I need to feel you. Hold you.” He closed his eyes for a long minute.
“I’m exhausted. You are too. Can we save the world tomorrow? ”
“Sounds like a busy Saturday, but sure,” I tried to joke.
He chuckled. The sound made me instantly hard. Fuck, why was he so hot?
Angel stripped off his shirt, leaving all that beautiful tattooed skin on display. When his hands went to his pants, shucking them and leaving him in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, my common sense vanished and my mouth went dry.
He gave me a sexy grin. “I love the way you look at me.”
“Huh?”
“Exactly,” he said, then tugged my T-shirt off. “No sexy times tonight. But I need your skin against mine.”
“Okay,” I agreed stupidly. I let him guide me under the covers, his body curling around mine like we’d done this a thousand times instead of it feeling like the first time all over again. His chest pressed against my back, his scarred hand splaying over my sternum where my heartbeat thundered.
“Breathe,” he murmured into my hair. “I’ve got you.”
I focused on his heat and the steady thump-thump of his pulse against my back.
His palm settled just above the waistband of my pajama pants, tempting, hot, but unmoving.
His weight draped against me, anchored something inside that had been floating free in a nightmare tide of bouncing emotions. I sank into his arms.
His lips brushed the nape of my neck. “Sleep.”
And somehow, I did.