Ascend - A Reverse Harem Romance (Celestial Academy Book 1)

by Maya Nicole

  I laughed and sat at the table on the metal stool across from her. "World War II, same platoon. That's where we both died."

  Her eyes went wide and then her expression softened. "I can't even imagine what it's like being in a war zone... and during a World War? Wow."

  I expected her to ask more questions, but she didn't. I respected that. Maybe one day I'd tell her about my past life. I stood abruptly and my stool fell over, hitting the concrete floor with a loud metallic sound that made us both jump and in my haste to flee, I fell flat on my ass over the stool.

  Danica rushed around the table and I held up both hands in front of me. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

  Where the hell had that come from? Telling someone about my life made my skin crawl. The last time I'd shared my life with someone they had died, right the fuck on top of me. I shut my eyes and tried to remind myself that I was fine. I was safe here in my home. The home I'd built with my bare hands.

  With slightly shaky legs I stood and righted the stool before meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry about that. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere."

  Usually I could keep myself in check. So much so that I was able to start my own business a few years ago. My workers all knew I suffered from severe PTSD, although they thought it was from Iraq, and on the days I couldn't handle things, they had my back.

  Toby chose that moment to walk into my place, a pink box in one hand and a Diet Dr. Pepper in the other. His eyes went to Danica's worried face and then they shot quickly to me, concern etched in them.

  "Everything okay?" He put the box and soda on the table slowly. "I got donuts."

  It was like one minute there was tension in the air and the next her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She threw her arms around Toby like he had just come back from a long deployment and then they were kissing.

  Oh shit, were they kissing. If I opened the dictionary and looked up the term face-sucking, there would be a picture of them. I'd buy her every damn Diet Dr. Pepper and donut on the face of this planet if she'd kiss me like that.

  Before I started thinking of her body pressed against me, her lips opening and waiting for my tongue, I lifted the lid to the donut box and the sweet sugary scent of maple and chocolate hit me right in the face. I grabbed the glazed twist with a hint of cinnamon woven into it and took a bite. A moan escaped my lips. I hadn't had a donut in a while.

  Toby ripped his lips away from Danica's and looked at me with a glare as if I was inconveniencing his make-out session right in front of my fucking face.

  I swallowed my bite and grinned at Toby's narrowed eyes. Serves him right for making out in front of me. "Want a bite?"

  Toby rolled his eyes and then grabbed his own donut before sitting down. "What are we going to do about those Fallen?"

  "Well they are dead now and were disposed of. I didn't see who came and got them. I've searched the vans, there is nothing ever in them."

  "Do you think there are more?"

  I shrugged in response. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

  "They sensed I was an angel. Said something about my wings not coming out when they sprayed me in the face." Danica nursed her Diet Dr. Pepper in her hands. I briefly wondered how addicted she was to it, having asked for it so early in the morning. I wasn't one to talk though, I had a bad habit of my own.

  "Wait, why didn't your wings come out?" I looked back and forth between Toby and her.

  "I don't have wings." I could tell immediately that it bothered her by the way her mouth turned slightly down and her eyes glossed up.

  "Well, mine are bound so they can't come out. I guess we have something in common."

  "That's horrible! All fallen angels have bound wings?" She looked back and forth between me and Toby. How did she know nothing about being an angel?

  "Yes. It doesn't hurt, well until they really want to come out, then it feels like a dull ache in the shoulder blades."

  "We should get going after we eat. I need to talk to Dean Whittaker about these attacks so she can get a message to Michael."

  I grunted in response, my mouth full of donut. As much as I didn't want to admit it, the company was nice. Especially the brunette across from me, wearing my clothes. Lucky for me, I already programmed her number in my phone.

  Chapter Eight

  Danica

  I stood frozen in front of the brightly colored paper taped to the hallway wall. There were so many like rainbow leading down every hallway. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? My utter humiliation.

  They had photocopied them all, all 'Notice of Disciplinary Action' forms and suspension forms, and plastered them around Uriel Hall. They were all there.

  Caused physical injury to another person.

  Unlawful use of an illegal substance.

  Disruption of school activities.

  There were so many in my file over the years that I didn't even remember most of them. I clutched my bag to my chest and made my way out of the building, keeping my eyes on the ground.

  How dare they.

  How dare they take something that was in my past and put it out there for the world to see. Wasn't it enough that I was here, at this school, trying?

  I threw my bag on the floor and faceplanted onto my bed. I shut my eyes and breathed in deep and exhaled. I could do this. I'd go back in there and take them all down once classes were in session.

  My phone buzzed in my bag and I groaned. Tobias.

  He had taken care of me all weekend. We never went on our date, instead he cooked for me in his room. Chicken fettuccini alfredo. Salad. Garlic bread. I felt my chest tightening and I swallowed back my tears. At some point he was going to realize that I came with a lot of baggage.

  I rolled off my bed and grabbed my phone. :Don't come to class. As if that warning would stop me in the first place.

  :Too late for that. Still want to date a juvenile delinquent?

  :Don't say that.

  I turned off my phone and changed out of my uniform. It was a little chilly outside so I threw on sweats and a hoodie. I wasn't technically going to class, so no uniform was required.

  It took me most of the morning to take down all of the papers spread around campus. Mainly because I hid between class times. I'd save my brave face for tomorrow. Adults are always saying to just ignore the bullies, but did that actually work? This was something deeper. This was a deep-seated hatred for Lucifer and for me. What had the devil ever done to them?

  I wanted to punch each and every one of them in their glowing faces. Or leave. Leaving would be better, but part of me didn't want to leave. One thing was clear, something needed to change or I wasn't going to make it to the end of the semester.

  I hid in my room the rest of the day until my last class, independent study in the library. Except now Mondays would be dedicated to peer mentoring. What that entailed hadn't exactly been made clear to me. Or maybe it was, and I had zoned out as Dean Whittaker had droned on and on.

  At least my day was going better, especially after the picture Tobias sent me. Normally a dick pic would turn me off, but if anything it just made me want him more. I'd always laughed at the movies or books where the girl falls head over heels after a few days. I understood now. When it was there, it was just there.

  Although a certain dirty-mouthed vigilante kept popping into my head as well, but that was probably something for a therapist to explore.

  I plopped down in a leather armchair in the corner of the library and tipped my head back to let the light from the colonial-style window hit my face. What I would give to be napping right now. With a long exhale, I sat up and dug in the front pouch of my bag for the tiny pouch with my Flair pens. They were my version of a fidget spinner, constantly switching pens helped my focus. Plus they made my notes look like a rainbow threw up on them. A win in my book.

  They were nowhere to be found though. Hopefully they were back in my room. Or had I left them in a class on Friday? Shrugging to myself, I dropped my bag on the floor and scanned the
library. It was empty as usual, Ms. Hall was just out of my line of sight, her long manicured nails creating a very faint tapping sound on her keyboard. Hopefully this week wouldn't be a repeat of last week.

  The heavy wooden library door opened and I turned my head towards it.

  No. Just no.

  I pressed my lips together and gripped the arms of the chair, digging my fingernails into the leather. If I hadn't known him already, I would have sat up straighter, pushed my chest out, smoothed down my clothes. Then worried about my choice in wearing sweats.

  Oliver Morgan was breathtaking.

  He walked towards me, his lips quirked into a small smile, his blue eyes appraising my sweats. He sat down in the chair next to me and turned to face me, touching the top of his brown hair as if to check that the hair product that held it in place was still working.

  I pursed my lips and crossed my legs. "Well isn't this fucking fantastic."

  He shrugged his shoulders and tilted his chin in the direction of my bag while he shrugged out of his blue blazer and laid it over the arm of the chair. The faint smell of chocolate chip cookies hit my nose.

  "Did you bring the binder?"

  "What binder?" My eyebrows drew together and I tilted my head slightly to the side. "Was I supposed to bring stuff?"

  "The school handbook binder. Dean Whittaker said she told you to bring it with you. That's what we're going to be going over." He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back against the back of the chair.

  "Oh... I forgot."

  He shut his eyes and opened them in an extra-long blink and then leaned forward again to pull his binder out of his bag. "Let's just get this over with."

  He moved his chair so our knees were practically touching and opened the binder, placing it on my lap. He pointed to the first line in the table of contents. Dress code.

  "Is this really necessary? I can just read it on my own." I leaned my elbow on the side of the chair and put my cheek on my fist.

  He grunted and flipped the pages open to the dress code section. He then reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen and handed them to me. I ran my hand over the smooth cover of the notebook that had a pink watercolor design and a gold embossed D on it. The pen was thicker than usual, given it had ten retractable colors.

  "What's this for?" I shifted in my seat. I was kicking myself for the flutters in my stomach. Why had he given me something so... personalized?

  He let out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Notes. Remember you'll have a test at the end of our mentoring sessions."

  "Right... So Dress code." I flipped open the small notebook and labeled the first page. "Rule 1. Wear ridiculous sailor uniforms because we're children that can't dress ourselves. Is that correct?"

  "Are you going to take this seriously? We wear uniforms so we aren't distracted from our studies. God only knows what you would wear if you were given free reign." He looked at my sweats with a raised eyebrow.

  I pushed down hard with my pen as I wrote. He leaned forward again and looked at the page nodding his head slightly. I didn't know how he could read upside down, I sure couldn't. I clicked the pen a few times and drew a few swirly circles on the corner of my paper.

  "Are you listening?"

  My head snapped up and pulled the notebook towards my chest. "I umm... no. I wasn't listening. I mean I was but..."

  He tapped a finger on his lips before sitting back in his chair, his legs moving out from where they were against the bottom of the chair and touching mine.

  "Is your endgame to go to hell and work with your father? I mean really, you punched a guy because he gave you a church paper or something?" His eyebrows furrowed and reached forward and grabbed the pen I continued to click.

  I looked down at the binder on my lap and brushed away an imaginary piece of eraser shaving. He didn't say anything during my silence, the only sound in the room the faint sound of steps in the hall and the printer at Ms. Hall's desk spitting out papers.

  He broke the silence by nudging my foot with his, causing my head to snap up. He looked back at me, his light smattering of freckles even more prominent in the slant of light from the window.

  "That is what happened, right?" He put the pen back in the middle of the binder.

  "He did give me a church flier, so that's what the principal chose to believe."

  He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. I could tell he really wanted to ask more questions. Only Ava and I knew the truth, and we wanted to keep it that way. We had heard rumors that those that knew and didn't join were beat to a pulp.

  I closed the binder and handed it back to him while grabbing my bag off the floor. I quickly stood while unzipping it and dropping the pen and notebook inside.

  "Where are you going? We have fifteen more minutes. If Dean Whittaker-"

  "I don't give a shit about Dean Whittaker or any of this. You sitting here acting like you care is a joke." My eyes darted to the door and then back to him.

  He looked up at me with downturned lips and stood. "At least stay in the library so if she comes by you don't get in more trouble."

  "Fine," I said through gritted teeth before turning and making my way down the rows of books labeled Angel History.

  I grabbed a random book off a shelf and started flipping through it, stopping to look at the pictures. What was I even looking at? I slammed the book shut and read the title on the cover: Angel Disgrace During the 1970s. I snorted back a laugh.

  "It is funny isn't it? That they'd put that crap in a book for everyone to see."

  I turned and rolled my eyes as Oliver leaned on the sturdy wooden shelf next to me. He plucked the book from my hands frowning.

  "I wonder what they'll write about me." He flipped through the book in the same way I had, furrowing his brows.

  "Probably that you're an asshole that picks on the weak."

  "You aren't weak. Your actually pretty strong." He shut the book with a snap and reached past me and put it on the shelf, his shirt sleeve brushing against my shoulder.

  "Oh so that's what all the bullying is for, to test my strength? You know what? I'm actually glad because now I get to see what phonies you all are. My dad is more angel than any of you."

  I straightened my back and stared up at Oliver. I hadn't realized he was so tall, the top of my head coming to his chin. Someone knew what they were doing when they created him. He stared back down at me and took a step closer.

  "Maybe you're right," he said gently.

  And then he kissed me.

  I laid on the soft comforter of my bed, the slight breeze outside wafting in and brushing across my skin. My lips still tingled from Oliver's very short yet satisfying kiss. One second his lips were on me and the next he was out the door. My mind was swirling as I brought my fingers to my lips.

  The kiss had lasted only for a few seconds, but a few seconds I couldn't take back. It sent a thrill though me, kissing him there against the shelf in the library, each breath smelling of books and the faint scent of chocolate chip cookies.

  Honestly, I felt a little like a harlot. Three men had occupied my mind today and I couldn't stop thinking about my body pressed up against them, their hands roaming my curves, their lips on my-

  My phone buzzed on my chest and I lifted it above my face to read a text from Ava. My head hurt. Maybe my heart hurt a little too. Oliver Morgan had kissed me. And I kissed him back.