Fallen Angel

by K. S. Thomas

  The good news is, without the distraction of his gorgeous smile or his ridiculous eight pack visible even through his tight t-shirt every time he moves, not to mention the intoxication caused by his scent, as well as the deep hypnotic silk that is his voice, I’m actually getting shit done in here. One more auction worthy item and I can make a run for it. Until tomorrow. When I have to come back and take him furniture shopping.

  I’m so wrapped up in my internal rambling, I don’t even hear him when he comes back.

  “You plan on eating anything today, or just living on coffee like your sister?”

  My head pops up out of my current box to find him standing in the doorway, a plate in his hands.

  “Um, I was going with the coffee thing. But I’m not known to turn down food when offered.” I pat the dust off my hands and start walking toward him, caution lights exploding in my brain with each step I take because I’m gushing internally knowing he cared enough to make me lunch. Then I want to break out the happy dance when I see the plate is covered in brownies. Of course, my mood takes a definite turn in the opposite direction when the plate and the brownies move away the closer my hand gets.

  “Nuh-uh.”

  I think I might have to fight back tears. “Why would you bring them up here if you weren’t going to let me have them?” Aw, hell. That sentence could be applied to more than just pastries right now.

  “These were just to lure you from the room. Lunch is downstairs. This is dessert.” He nods at the plate filled with chocolate goodness. Not that I needed clarifying on what would be dessert. Okay, yeah. I totally needed clarifying.

  I make a face. “If you needed to bribe me with chocolate, lunch must not look very appetizing.”

  He scoffs dramatically. “Lunch is delicious.” He pauses once we make it down the stairs and lets me pass. “But it’s also healthy, and I know how you Jennison girls frown upon foods without sugar.”

  “You know, not everything that applies to Eda also transfers over to me.” This does. But generally speaking, outside of our love for sugar and coffee...and Nutella, our tastes vary quite a bit.

  He laughs quietly, his hand mysteriously appearing on my lower back as we walk into the kitchen.

  “I wasn’t thinking of Ava. I was thinking of your graduation party at Ocean’s Pantry and the look on your face when I asked you if you wanted to try some of my dinner.”

  I shudder, and not in a good way. “Yeah, your dinner still had its head. I’m not anti-eating seafood, I’m just anti-eating food that can see me.”

  “For the record, I didn’t know they were going to serve the fish that way.” He reaches for two plates on the counter, “and more importantly, lunch is completely face free.”

  This only makes me feel slightly better considering the meal is still unrecognizable, not my favorite thing in food I’m meant to eat, but then the concept of sharing a meal with Angel may be the top favorite thing of all time.

  He slides both plates onto the small table in the corner and we both take our seats. Since my brain is torn between freaking out about the mystery food, and the many ways in which I could convince myself that this is a date, I opt for the healthier route and pursue small talk. “So, what was Derek doing here this morning?”

  I swear Angel hurries to move his fork to his mouth, just so he doesn’t have to answer.

  Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out what I’m looking at. The green stuff on the side is definitely an avocado. I’m good with that. In fact, if the entire plate were covered in avocado, I’d be more than happy to lick it clean, but that’s not the case. The rest resembles some sort of fried rice. Only it’s not. Rice. And there’s more green stuff in it. Only it’s not avocado green, it’s like spinach green and this concerns me quite a lot.

  “Angel?”

  “Hm?” He’s still chewing what has to be the longest bite in history. Apparently, this Derek business is top secret. Which means I’m definitely going to ask again.

  “What is this? Like, just...what is it?” I poke my fork around in it, searching for something specific to pick out, but it’s a by the scoopful sort of meal, so that’s not happening.

  Finally, he swallows. “It’s quinoa and kale, fried up with egg and some seasonings to kick up the flavor a bit.”

  “Huh.” That didn’t really help as much as I thought it would.

  He grins. “Just try it. I promise, it’s good.”

  “And if it’s not?”

  “Then you can skip it and go straight to dessert.” He gives a sideways glance toward the plate of chocolate pastries sitting on the counter and smiles the way only Angel can and I’m instantly prepared to eat whatever he wants me to. Even if brownies are an option.

  “Fair enough.” I take my first bite. And it’s freaking delicious. “Oh my God.”

  “We going to hold off on the sugar for now?”

  I nod, already scooping up another forkful. “M-hm.”

  I didn’t even realize how hungry I was until that first bite hit my stomach. I practically devour everything on the plate before I remember that our little lunch date will be over as soon as I’m done eating. But it’s too late. My lunch is gone.

  At least there’s still dessert.

  I sip from the water bottle Angel had on the table for me and try to clear the rubble of crap floating around in my head in search of something suitable to talk about. Then I remember.

  “So, Derek. He just came by this morning to borrow a cup of sugar or what?”

  Angel coughs, almost choking on his last bite. “I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t bring that up again,” he admits sheepishly.

  “Yeah, I picked up on that.” I narrow my eyes. “What’s the story there? And is it a don’t tell Addy secret or a don’t tell anyone secret?”

  He grins again. “I don’t have any don’t tell Addy secrets.”

  For some stupid reason this makes me giddy in the most ridiculous of ways. “In that case, spill it. I’m an excellent secret keeper.”

  Judging by the expression on his face, he has doubts about this. “Oh yeah? Even from your sister?”

  “Especially Eda.”

  Something I can’t quite catch transpires in his eyes briefly, and for a moment, I wonder if he knows the reason I came back. In which case, my sister sucks at keeping secrets, but I still don’t because I kept it from her for over a year. Not that it’s something to be proud of. If I had told her sooner, maybe I never would have wound up in such a mess. Then again, I ignored her advice the first time around, so maybe I was doomed to wind up here either way.

  Regardless, Angel is staring off toward the kitchen door and I’m about to ask him why when he turns toward me again. “If you’re going to be coming around the next few days to play decorator, I might as well tell you. Derek’s staying with me for the time being. Shit reached the point of no return with Sammy. They’ve split.”

  Holy shit. I did not see that coming. “What? But it’s temporary, right? I mean, they’re going to work it out. They have to work it out.” They’re kind of the only normal couple I know. If they can’t make it work, the rest of us don’t stand a chance in hell.

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Bam Bam.” He gets up and clears both our plates as he goes. When he sits down again, there’s a pile of brownies sitting in front of me. Only I no longer have an appetite.

  ***

  “It’s safe to come out again. She left over an hour ago.” Derek’s been holed up in here in the dark almost all day. It’s like you can’t even tell he took a shower and got dressed this morning. He’s right back to wearing his pansy ass pajama bottoms and I know for damn sure he’s just wearing them because Sammy got him those for Christmas last year.

  “She was here long enough. What was all the giggling I heard coming from the kitchen earlier?” The glare from the TV makes his face downright scary looking considering he’s glowering at me and his jaw is bony as hell these days.

  “Oh, you know. I had her
laid out naked on my kitchen counter and was nibbling away at all of her most ticklish areas.” I flip on the light just as he jumps upright like he thinks I’m actually serious. “Man, what the fuck is wrong with you lately? We were having lunch. We talked because staring at nothing in silence is your thing, no one else’s. And Bam Bam’s a girl. She fucking giggles.”

  He drops back down into the probably permanent indent of his body in my guest bed. “Sorry. I just can’t pretend not to see the shit people are capable of anymore.”

  I step in front of him, blocking the TV. “Explain yourself. I’m serious, man, or I swear to God your ass is sleeping somewhere else tonight.”

  His eyes narrow and I feel my knuckles pop as I clench and unclench my fists. He’s sick right now. I get that. But he keeps coming at me like I’m a fucking stranger he can’t trust and I’m going to start treating him like one.

  “I’m saying, no one is who they pretend to be. We’re all just parading around as the prettiest versions of ourselves, the ones we want other people to see. The ones others accept. Like, even. But we’re all rotting on the inside, some more than others.” His expression hardens and his gaze stares blindly into the room and I know he’s talking about Sammy. Rotting on the inside. Then, he snaps out of it and comes back at me. “Of course, you make no secret of your disgusting parts. You just flash that shit out in the open. Or so we think. Maybe there’s more. Maybe the goodhearted guy who’s always up for a good time and never up for a commitment isn’t really as charming and considerate as he pretends. Maybe he’s a selfish piece of shit who would take advantage of a young girl just to add another one to the collection.”

  “You are out of your goddamned mind.” I move up around the bed to the other nightstand. Derek lunges for me as I pull open the drawer, but it’s too late. I’ve already found it. “Really? This isn’t even the good shit.” I throw the nearly empty bottle of cheap vodka in the trashcan by the desk.

  “Fuck you. You don’t know what my life is like.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But as far as I can see, I’m the only other person in it these days. And if you want to keep it that way, you need to stop trying to make me out to be the asshole. I get that you’re having a hard time making Sammy the bad guy, but it can’t keep being me. I’m not hurting you, in fact, I’m the only one trying to help you.” I head for the door. “And not that I owe you any explanation here, but I’m not going to hurt Bam Bam either. She’s Ava’s sister for fuck’s sake. I’ve known her since she was a baby. And I sure as shit don’t plan on adding her to the collection.”

  I slam the door shut and march straight for my own room. I know he didn’t really mean any of what he said. Well, he meant it. About Sammy. I’ve just been his target by default these days. Shit’s getting old, but I can’t force the man to heal any faster than his heart is willing to. And apparently, it’s not willing to do squat. So, I suck it up and take one for the team. Everyone takes a turn around here sometime, and while Derek is down and out over Sammy, it’s up to me this time.

  Kicked back on my bed, I reach for the remote. I’m not much for TV, so I have no fucking clue what’s on these days. With any luck, my phone will ring and I’ll have something, someone, better to entertain me here shortly.

  Thirty minutes into some stupid reality show where people are going on naked blind dates and acting like that shit’s totally normal, and my phone finally beeps.

  Ready to leave naked tweedle dee and tweedle dick behind, I pick up my phone and answer without even checking who it is. I never do. I like the element of surprise. Plus, my competitive side likes to challenge the charming side to see how fast I can recognize a girl just by the sound of her voice.

  “What’s up?”

  “Shit.” It was hardly even audible, but it was enough.

  “Bam Bam?”

  “I was kinda expecting you to let it go to voicemail.”

  Damn, that had to have been in record time. “Why would I let it go to voicemail?”

  “Because. It’s Friday night. I figured on you being out. But, it’s kinda quiet for a hoppin’ night club. Are you at home?”

  I didn’t even realize it was Friday. “Um, yeah.”

  “Damn, Angel. You’re not the wild rock star the tabloids make you out to be.” She sighs dramatically. “So disappointing.”

  Even over the phone I can totally picture the face she’s making on the other end of the line, and I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, okay. Did you call for anything in particular or just to give me shit for turning into a more boring version of my tabloid self?”

  Silence.

  “Bam Bam?”

  “Well, it’s just...I wanted to leave it in a message. I was all prepared. I made notes. I rehearsed it. It just feels like all that effort is going to waste by having this conversation. Live. With each other. Minus the automated voice.”

  I shake my head, smiling. “Would you like to hang up and call back?”

  “I really would.” I can hear muffled movements and then suddenly she pops back on, “Just to be clear, this time you won’t answer.”

  “I will not,” I agree. Then, a satisfied sound hums through the phone line before I hear the click and she’s gone.

  Still chuckling, I sit there, staring at my phone, waiting for it to ring again. When it does, I’m fully prepared to hit dismiss call and send it straight to voicemail. Only...I don’t.

  “Hello?”

  “What the fuck, asshole? We had a deal!” She huffs loudly and I bet her hands are balled up in fists and stacked fiercely on that tiny waist of hers as we speak.

  “I know, but as you pointed out so acutely, I’m home. Alone. And I’m bored.” I lean back into my pillows and turn the TV off for good.

  “I’m sure all it would take is a solid flick of your finger down your call log and you could drum up all sorts of entertainment.”

  “No doubt. That’s just not the type of entertainment I’m looking for tonight.” I can hear her move again on the other end. Judging by the creaking wood and the quiet squeak of a mattress, she’s in bed as well.

  “And what sort of entertainment is it exactly that you’re looking for?” she probes.

  “The Bam Bam kind. So, you see, my options are pretty limited.”

  She makes a noise that sounds like an escaped giggle she tried to recapture. “Yeah, I guess they are.”

  “So, are you ever going to tell me what you called me for?” I switch to speaker, letting the phone rest in my lap. Her caller Id picture’s still on my screen. It’s the one linked to her email account, so I didn’t assign it to her and I’ve never looked at it before now. She’s sitting outside somewhere, with a book, like she’s trying to read but whoever took the picture was distracting her. She’s smiling. Not at the camera, but at the person behind it. And for an instant, I catch myself wondering what it would be like if it was me.

  “Angel, I can’t tell you what I called you for,” she grumbles quietly.

  “Why not?” I still can’t take my eyes off her face on my screen. How have I never noticed those brown eyes before? I always knew they were pretty, but they’re so much more. It’s like all of her is buried inside them. Sparks. Sadness. Smiles. Fierceness. They’re all in there and they’re captivating.

  I really need to stop looking at her picture.

  “I can’t tell you because you’ll laugh. Which is why I wanted to leave the message. So you could laugh, and I wouldn’t have to hear you.”

  I want to laugh now, but I get the feeling she’d take offense to that. “Just pretend I’m the voicemail. I won’t laugh, promise. Here, I’ll even do the beep. Beeeeeeeeeep.”

  “Okay, that’s so stupid. That’s not going to work.”

  But I don’t answer. I just wait.

  “I’m serious, Angel. I’m not going to do it.”

  I still stay quiet.

  “Ugh, fine! Here goes.” She clears her throat and I hear paper being un-crumpled in her hand. “Hi, Angel. It’s
Addison. Well, Bam Bam. You probably don’t know who Addison is – that’s in my notes by the way – Anyway, I was just calling to let you know that I accidentally brought home one of your plates. Apparently, it was hidden under the last of the brownies I snuck into your kitchen for and stole when I said I was running back in to grab my phone right before I left. I’m a big fat liar. And you’re a dumbass because I was holding my phone in my hand when I came up with that excuse. Anyway, sorry about the plate. I’ll bring it back tomorrow when I come over to go shopping. The brownies, well, those I’m afraid you’ll have to learn to live without. Okay. That’s it. Bye.”

  Then the line goes dead and I’m left sitting here in my bed, smiling like a dumbass.

  Chapter 4

  “Where are you going?” Ava actually stopped midstep upon discovering me in the kitchen.

  “Angel’s.” Considering the topic, I’m going with a less is more approach.

  “Why? You got me everything I needed yesterday.” She comes all the way into the kitchen and heads straight for the coffee maker. I hand her the Nutella after she refills her cup. She makes a face and whimpers, “I miss Hudson.”

  “When are they supposed to get back?” I’m fully prepared to take this new topic of conversation and run with it.

  “Not for another two weeks. But never mind that. What are you doing over at Angel’s today?”

  Dammit.

  “I kind of agreed to take him furniture shopping.”

  Ava’s never been good at keeping her thoughts to herself. Even when she doesn’t say them out loud, which is rare, they’re spelled out all over her face. At this very moment she’s thinking this is the dumbest idea she’s ever heard. For a multitude of reasons.