Chapter 26
There’s a particular clarity that comes with true sleep, the kind that smooths the jagged edges of panic and guilt.
I woke to Peanut Butter’s weightless bouncing across the mattress, Nox hot on his heels in a play fight.
Arched backs, sideways hops, all silent intensity without a single puffy tail or growl to signal real aggression.
The faint glow of dawn outlined the curtains, but Angel’s arm around my waist anchored me more firmly than the bed itself.
His warmth seeped into my back, his breathing slow and even against my nape.
The realization hit me like a physical blow.
I wanted to turn over, tuck my face against his throat, and lose myself in this peace. In him.
The intensity of that need terrified me. What wouldn’t I do for this man? The question sent a shiver down my spine, not from fear, but from the terrifying rightness of it. Would he run if he knew how deep the need went? Did I have any right to him at all after I’d hurt him?
Peanut Butter launched onto the headboard with a thump, perched precariously above Angel. I braced for impact.
Experience is a bitch.
“Don’t move,” Angel grumbled, his arm tightening. His voice was sleep rough, vibrating through me where his chest pressed against my back.
“You don’t want cat claws in your face,” I warned.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” His sigh stirred my hair. “I’m amazed you slept through their performance.”
It took my caffeine deprived brain a moment to process. “The door.” Peanut Butter considered a closed door his mortal enemy. That pathetic, world ending wail he perfected whenever denied access to his kingdom could wake the dead. Though apparently, I’d missed it.
Angel nuzzled the space between my shoulder blades.
“Sorry. I should have remembered to leave it cracked.”
“You were exhausted.” His lips brushed my spine, silencing me. “Your brother’s been pacing outside the door for twenty minutes.”
I twisted to see Angel’s face. His eyes still closed, lashes dark against his cheeks, so perfectly at home in my bed it made my chest ache. “I should go check on him.”
“Hmm,” he grumbled but loosened his arm.
I slid out, snapped my T-shirt up off the floor, and tugged it over my head before opening the door to the rest of the apartment. The microwave clock read a quarter after seven. Early. I’d never been one for sleeping in, not until Angel.
Ivan sat coiled on the couch, already dressed in a hoodie and jeans, strawberry-blond hair secured in a haphazard ponytail. The sight of his bouncing knee stilled when he saw me.
“Keanan’s picking me up,” he blurted, “to take me to the community center.”
The words hit like a rejection. We’d only been home less than a day. Had I done something? Said something?
“I’m going to play in the climbing room,” Ivan confessed, as if it were a dirty secret.
“Oh.” I took that in. If I were a cat, it would have sounded like fun. “You know you can change here as much as you want, right?”
“Yes. But you have nine-foot ceilings. The center has carpet walls made for climbing.” He flexed his hands in his lap. “It feels good on my claws.” His cheeks pinked. “And napping in the sun. There are a few regular classes, too. Language and art and stuff.”
“You’re bringing your phone, right? Do you need money for food?” I added money to his phone regularly, though he hadn’t seemed to spend much of it.
“Minors eat free at the center,” he said. “I’ll have to leave my phone in a locker, but I promise, I’ll be fine.” His gaze flicked past me to the cracked bedroom door, then back. “You should spend the day with Angel. Like a not-working day. No raising the dead or anything.”
“Or magic shields to stop flying cars.”
Ivan shrugged. “I mean, if you want to be Iron Man or something.”
“I think that would be more Professor X.”
“Or the Scarlet Witch,” Ivan said, studying me. “More attitude, less ageless wisdom.”
“Ouch. Brat. Mom and Dad let you watch those movies?”
His easy smile vanished. “No.”
Shit. I was always apologizing. I was bad at this.
“It’s fine.” His phone pinged. “He’s here.” He stared at me a long minute, then surprised the hell out of me by launching himself into my arms and wrapping me in a tight hug.
I blinked and carefully hugged him back, uncertain how much touch he wanted, but then he let go and rushed out of the apartment, leaving me standing somewhat bewildered by the thought that maybe I wasn’t such a terrible big brother.
Peanut Butter wound between my ankles, purring loudly as if to fill the silence.
I turned as Angel emerged from my bedroom, and my brain short-circuited.
He stretched, all tattooed shoulders and sleep warm skin, wearing nothing but low-slung boxer briefs that made my mouth water. He raked his fingers through his tousled hair, his jaw shadowed with only the faintest hint of stubble. He could have walked right off the cover of a romance novel.
I blinked stupidly at him, unable to form words.
Angel’s bare feet padded against the linoleum as he moved through my kitchen like he owned it. The morning light caught every ridge of muscle as he grabbed the coffee mugs.
“See something you like, pretty boy?” he purred without turning around.
I choked on air. He thought I was pretty? “Holy Christmas,” my voice cracked.
Angel set the cups down, picked up the full pot, and filled each. He strolled to the fridge, retrieved the creamer, leaning into the box for a few seconds as if his fine back and delicious ass weren’t already mouthwatering.
I shuffled forward, hyperaware of him in my space, making me coffee. Who needed coffee when I could have that for breakfast? He poured a heavy amount of creamer into both cups, adding sugar to one as I watched, hypnotized.
His breath tickled my neck as he leaned into me and murmured, “Sweet enough for you?”
I blinked at him incoherently, focused on his lips rather than the cup.
“Jude?” He slid his fingers along my jaw, the caress gentle and warm. “Need anything else?”
Just my dignity. And maybe some self-control.
“I mean in your coffee.”
I swallowed. “Can you tell what I’m thinking?” Did the bond work that way?
Angel leaned in to peck the corner of my mouth. “You don’t hide your expressions as well as you think you do.”
And here I thought I’d spent the last ten years mastering a blank face.
He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over that incredibly perfect, tattooed chest, gaze focused on me. “We could spend the day in bed.”
Holy fuck. My dick went from semi-hard to gotta have it in a heartbeat. “Uh…” What was I supposed to be doing?
He leaned in to press his forehead to mine and breathe me in. The touch oddly cooled the intensity while I remained painfully hard.
“Is… ah… that what you want?” I stuttered out, trying not to sound like a complete idiot.
“Jude,” he said breathily, my name sounding like a caress.
“Yeah?” I was so stupid for him.
“What do you want?”
“You?”
“Why is that a question?”
I took a step back, out of his touch, needing a second to collect myself.
I fumbled for the coffee, snapping it up from the counter and chugging half of it as I stared at him, his brow furrowed as if studying me.
Even the coffee he made was perfect. What had I done to deserve this man, who seemed like some sort of unicorn among men, crafted just for me?
“I don’t deserve you,” I said.
He blinked, then returned to his sexy lean, expression thoughtful. “Would it help if I farted a lot and left my clothes on the floor?”
His clothes might actually still be on the floor in my bedroom, and I didn’t care one bit. “Uh…”
“I’m not perfect, Jude. You saw that when I was in pain. I shut down. We all struggle sometimes.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He groaned, grabbed the mug out of my hands, set it down, and backed me up against the counter, his body hot and solid against me. “I don’t blame you. How many times do I have to say it?”
“I blame me.”
He sighed. “What does your guilt gain either of us? Time together? Understanding? Does it give you anything other than pain?”
I thought about that and shook my head. “I don’t want to be that guy. Hurting you and apologizing all the time like some sort of psycho.”
“Like your dad,” Angel corrected.
I flinched. “I warned you I’m bad at relationships.”
“It’s called trauma. We all have it.”
“I want to be perfect for you. Like you are for me.” I held up a hand to stop his protest. “I don’t mean perfect like without flaws. I mean meant to fit together.” I swallowed and said, “I don’t mean the sexual kind of fit either. Obviously that works just fine.”
Angel arched a brow at me. “Just fine?”
“Incredibly well?” I picked up the mug and took another long gulp of the coffee, grateful for the warmth waking up my brain. “I mean I want us to work. More than just in the bedroom.” What if he didn’t want that? Fuck. “Unless that’s not what you want?”
He leaned in, his arm sliding around me, sighing as I settled against him. “The desire is easy. Newly bonded, it burns hot. Or at least that’s what Xavier tells me. I’ve never met a bonded pair before. Not since I was a kid.”
“That’s my point. You’re beautiful. Melt-my-brain hot. And I’m just me. Do we work at all?”
“Melt your brain?” he mimicked, but shook his head. “What do you suggest?”
Ivan had a good idea, and why not. Sometimes it took someone from outside the relationship to see what was needed. “A date without magic?”
“That’s easy. I’m a shifter. I don’t have magic.”
“No summoning the dead or stopping cars with shields would be nice.”
Angel traced idle patterns with his fingertips where his arm encircled me. “A date.” His breath warmed my temple. “I spend most of my time across the Veil when not working. Fewer people to stare.”
“People stare because you’re hot.”
“People stare because I have a shifter band, am covered in tattoos, and am not white. Those things send most people running.”
I brushed my thumb over the faint scar on his hand, thankful it wasn’t raised and angry.
It wasn’t his only scar. Most hid beneath the ink, unseen by anyone unwilling to touch him.
And the short time we’d been together hadn’t given me enough time to memorize them all.
I hadn’t thought I’d be the one to add to the collection. “People are stupid.”
He chuckled. “They are. You sure you want a date across the Veil with me?”
“You don’t need to wine and dine me. Just show me what you enjoy doing on your days off.” I motioned to the empty apartment. “You know what I do. I take care of my brother, my grandpa, my best friend, and occasionally dance to K-pop. What do you do?”
“Sleep a lot. Work out. Eat dessert. Read. Watch movies.”
“All sounds good to me. You pick the events. We can always come back here later and spend the rest of the day in bed.”
“Promises, promises,” he murmured, his lips finding mine in a slow kiss that tasted like coffee and mornings in bed.
“One I promise to deliver on.”
He snorted, nipped my lower lip, then let me go. “I’m going to jump in the shower. Feel free to join me if you’d like help with that before our date.” His gaze flicked to my crotch and the undeniable erection.
Peanut Butter chose that moment to launch onto the counter; Nox chasing him across the surface.
Only having my cup in hand kept it from being shoved off the counter to shatter spectacularly on both of us.
But the duo knocked over the creamer and sent the mixing spoon flying.
Angel sighed, long-suffering, as he picked up the creamer and bent to retrieve the spoon.
I groaned. Maybe I should have asked for the day in bed.