VIPER (Fallen Angel Book 2)
Page 16
“Not gone.” I grinned against his lips, knowing exactly where he was going. “Just in a different room.”
“Too fuckin’ far away,” he said, and those words made my heart skip much faster than they probably should’ve. He means for sex, I reminded myself. Nothing else. But when Viper opened his eyes and reached down to wrap a hand around my wrist, stilling me, the emotions swirling in those mysterious depths made my breath catch—and so did the next words that left his mouth. “Wake me next time.”
I nodded, and Viper glanced over at the pizza box before turning his attention back to me.
“I suppose I should let you eat, huh?”
“I wouldn’t object,” I said, taking a step away from him and zipping my jeans to at least try and contain the erection that was dying to get free. Then I turned to shut the fridge and moved back over to the counter. “Sorry I woke you.”
Viper shook his head, as he too readjusted and zipped up. “You didn’t. I missed—”
My hand stopped midway to opening the box as Viper cut his words off, because there was no way he’d been about to say I missed you, was there?
Thirty-Two
Viper
I MISSED YOU? I fucking missed you? Did I seriously almost say that out loud? But when Halo glanced over his shoulder at me with curiosity in his eyes, I knew that I had.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and shrugged, trying to blow off my major faux pas. “I just woke up, that’s all.”
The side of Halo’s mouth crooked up before he turned back to the pizza, and I rolled my eyes at myself. Jesus, think before you talk, Viper. Maybe then I wouldn’t word-vomit every thought that ran through my head. Even if it was true.
Over the past month I’d gotten used to waking up and finding the angel sprawled out in bed next to me. With his tangle of curls and warm, smooth skin, Halo was a welcome addition to my bedroom each night, and when I woke up to find him missing, I’d had a flashback to that first time in Florida.
“Are you hungry?” Halo asked, giving me the out I so desperately wanted from the previous conversation.
I shamelessly took it, not wanting to look closer at all the reasons I might feel anxious over the thought of this man leaving my bed, even to go and get something to eat from my damn kitchen.
“Yeah, I could eat,” I said, and then I busied myself by grabbing a couple of plates and a roll of paper towels from the cupboard under the sink. “But not here.” I balanced the Parmesan on the plates with the towels then grabbed the glasses. “You bring the food and drink.”
As I made my way to the bedroom, the lights from the surrounding buildings spilled inside, illuminating the way, and as we entered, I passed the unmade bed and headed for the couch set up in the corner.
Halo put the Coke down and slid the pizza box onto the small table, then put a couple slices on each plate and took up a seat next to me on the couch, directly facing the magnificent view.
We wolfed down our first slices, both obviously hungry from missing dinner and our extracurricular activities, and once the initial hunger was satiated, I reached for my drink and washed it down with a gulp of the soda.
When Halo chuckled, I arched an eyebrow in his direction, and he gestured to the glass with a tilt of his chin.
“I’m shocked you didn’t bring in a bottle of whiskey to add to that.”
I smirked as I slid the glass back on the table. “I was tempted.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“You tryin’ to say I drink too much?”
Halo took a bite of his second slice and shook his head. “No.”
I eyed him for a beat, trying to see if there was more to that answer under the surface. But one thing I’d begun to realize about the angel was that what he said, he meant. There wasn’t any kind of underlying message to decipher with him. No bullshit lurking around a corner to bite you in the ass later, and that was something I could appreciate.
“Well, if you were saying that you’d probably be right. Smoking, drinking, fucking around, all nasty habits I picked up from years of touring.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I frowned and added, “Habits you should steer clear of.”
Halo let out a loud laugh and lowered his half-eaten slice to the box before turning to me. “Is that right?”
“Yep.” I took a bite out of my second slice. “I mean, the fucking you can do—with me. But you really shouldn’t drink as much as we do, or smoke for that matter.”
“Right.” Halo’s lips twitched. “Because you’re the poster boy for abstaining.”
“Eh, I’m too old change my ways now.”
“Old?” Halo fell back on the couch and laughed. “You’re thirty-three, not seventy-three. And I don’t know, it sure hasn’t hurt Mick Jagger and he’s what?”
“Seventy-five.”
“See,” Halo said with a grin. “Maybe I should start smoking.”
I wasn’t sure why I cared, but the idea of Halo picking up a habit that just might kill him made my stomach revolt. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Halo pursed his lips. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”
“I’m not fucking joking. That shit will kill you.”
Halo sat up and leaned over to brush his lips over mine. “I know. So why do you still do it?”
As his eyes locked with mine, I wondered if he was about to ask me to quit, and as he continued with the silent stalemate, I couldn’t help but wonder what my response would be if he did.
It was an answer I never had to give, though, because Halo grinned and shifted away to reach for his half-eaten slice. “No need to worry. I don’t plan to take up heavy drinking or smoking. I plan to enjoy this kickass life that seems to be happening right now.”
“Uh, what’s this ‘right now’ business?” I said, stretching my legs out and crossing the ankles.
Halo shrugged. “Well, you never know in the music industry, right? Highs, lows, and all that? I’m just trying to keep my expectations in check.”
And that was another thing I really liked about Halo—how damn humble he was. It was rare that someone with as much talent and charisma could remain so modest. But something told me that nothing—money, fame, success—would ever change Halo’s temperament. And that was so damn attractive after spending the past decade surrounded by overconfident assholes who all believed you should get on your knees and thank them for just looking your way. Hell, I’d made it my mission to become one just to fit in. But Halo was in a league all on his own. One I planned to make sure no one fucked with, or they’d have me to answer to.
“Angel,” I said, and Halo glanced over his shoulder at me. “With your talent, there are only going to be highs from here on, I can tell you that right now.”
The shy way Halo smiled made me sit up and cradle his cheek so I could kiss him. God, I’d tried to push aside what I’d said out there in the kitchen. But as Halo melted under my touch, there was no shoving aside the question that I couldn’t get out of my mind. Why couldn’t I get enough of him? And as Halo opened to me, I made myself let him go so he could finish his dinner, because I knew if I didn’t get my hands off him, it would all be over.
“Eat, Angel. You’re hungry,” I said, and shifted back to my spot.
Halo licked his lip, getting another taste of me before he went back to his meal, and I pressed a palm to my frustrated cock.
“So the pre-release party. Are you excited?” I asked, trying to get us back on track.
“Yeah. A bit nervous, but more pumped, you know? The pressure is off a bit since I already know Marshall loves it and ‘Dark Angel’ did so well. So I’m going to try and just breathe and enjoy it.”
“Oh yeah? And how do you think that’ll go?”
Halo scoffed. “I have no clue. Ask me Friday.”
“Will do,” I said, and shut my eyes as Halo finished eating his food.
A few minutes later, I felt myself dozing off when Halo settled back on the couch beside me. As his arm brushed up against
mine, I shifted “accidently” to brush his hand with the back of mine. Halo then traced his fingers over the top of mine, and I tried not to think of all the reasons I might’ve just done that, or why I loved the way he interlaced our fingers.
“You asleep?” Halo said into the shadow-filled room as he shifted down the couch a little further, and his hair tickled my shoulder.
“Nope,” I said, my voice thick with the sleep that was coming back to claim me.
“What are you doing tomorrow night? I was thinking that maybe we could pick out some movies and stuff our faces with popcorn and—”
“That sounds great, Angel, but it’s Monday. I gotta go see Mom.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Halo tightened his fingers around mine. “Then maybe Tuesday?”
I wasn’t sure if it was the fact it was nearly three in the morning, or because Halo was holding my hand and smelled so fucking good. But the next words I heard myself say were: “Why don’t you come with me?”
Silence. Stillness. So much of it that I cracked one eye open to look down and see if Halo was still there and breathing. But I knew he was, I was holding his damn hand, and just as I was about to try and pull my fucking foot out of my mouth, Halo aimed a sleepy smile at me and said, “I’d love to.”
Thirty-Three
Halo
IT WAS JUST after nine when I got home from Viper’s, and as I let myself into my building, I shrugged my backpack up my shoulder. It was still quiet, everyone most likely already at work, but as I made my way up the stairs to my apartment, the door to my sister’s place swung open, and then her voice rang out in the hallway.
“You’ve got some explaining to do,” she said. When I turned around, she put her hands on her hips, her green eyes flashing.
“About?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” she said, climbing the stairs. “You think I haven’t noticed you spend most of your nights away, but I’ve noticed.”
“Creeper,” I joked, but she glared at me.
“You’ve been home a month and you’ve never once said anything about a girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” I tried to smother a yawn, my lack of sleep catching up with me. “Can we talk about this later? I’m exhausted.”
“From staying up all night?”
“Im—”
“You’re not sleeping until I get answers.”
I groaned, my head falling back. I’d successfully managed to avoid Imogen’s questions when I first arrived back from Miami, and I’d been able to play off Viper’s sexual comment on the beach as a joke to embarrass me in front of family, which she’d seemed to buy. But now? With her feet firmly planted, she lifted her chin in challenge, and blowing her off was not happening.
Running my hand through my hair, I resigned myself to my fate, though what I’d tell her, I had no clue. Certainly not the truth. “I need coffee.”
“Coffee I can do. I’ll even throw in breakfast.”
“Patty’s Diner or it’s no deal.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Let me grab my purse.”
PATTY’S DINER WAS a small twenty-four-hour place on our block, serving up cheap eats and strong coffee. Imogen at least waited until after I’d finished off my first cup of brew and we’d placed our orders to begin the inquisition, for which I was grateful.
“Spill,” she said, wrapping her hands around her mug and blowing into it before taking a sip.
“I don’t know what it is you want me to say.”
“The truth.”
I cocked my head to the side, giving her a look.
“Fine, I’ll ask. Where have you been staying when you’re not home?”
Shit, way to go for the jugular, Im. How was I supposed to answer this without lying to her? I tried for nonchalant, giving her a shrug. “At a friend’s.”
Imogen’s brow quirked, and she tapped the side of her mug. “You know that vague shit isn’t gonna fly with me, right?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Why are you being so defensive and hiding things? That’s not like you at all.” She batted away a stray piece of hair from her face. “You’re not back with Phoebe, are you?”
“What?” The idea of Phoebe and me ever being anywhere near each other was so far out of left field that I sputtered out a laugh. “No. Hell no.”
“Then who is it?” Imogen asked, and then her mouth turned down and I knew which angle was coming next. The guilt angle. “You always tell me everything, and it hurts that you feel the need to hide something.”
“I know.”
“So? How is this any different?”
I lowered my gaze, staring way too intently at my coffee. “It just is.”
She sighed, and then, thankfully for me, the waitress interrupted to bring out our food.
“A Belgian waffle with strawberry compote for the lady,” the waitress said, setting down a plate in front of Imogen. “And Patty’s Special for the gentleman. Can I get you two anything else?”
“No thanks”—I glanced at her nametag—“Lauren.”
She winked at me. “Yell if you need anything.” As she walked off, Imogen eyed my plate.
“Mmm, that looks good.” She waited until I reached for the ketchup, and then she leaned across the table and swiped one of the sausage links off my plate before I could stop her.
“Jesus, what is it with you and Viper stealing shit off my plate?” I said, pouring out a healthy amount of ketchup to go with the hash browns.
“You talk about him a lot.”
“Who?”
“Viper.”
As I swallowed my food, I realized what I’d said, but it wasn’t like I’d admitted he stole shit off my plate in bed.
With a shrug, I lifted my over-medium egg and placed it on top of my toast. “Yeah, well, it’s bound to happen. I’m with the guys almost every day.”
“No…” Imogen took a bite of her waffle, and as she chewed, she stared at me thoughtfully. “That’s not it. You don’t talk about the others as much.”
I rolled my eyes and cut into the egg-toast combination. Sometimes my sister was too perceptive, but I’d been careful not to throw out any clues, so there was no way she could guess. Could she?
“So,” she said, her tone turning casual as she cut into her waffle, “Viper eats off your plate, huh?”
I focused on my food. “He eats off everyone’s plate,” I lied. “He’s an asshole like that.” No, you’re the asshole, I told myself. Just fucking tell her.
“Yeah, I guess a guy like Viper is used to getting what he wants.” It was a simple comment, what could be an innocent observation, but I knew my sister, and her words made me lift my head and pin her with narrowed eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that he’s got a reputation for taking whatever strikes him. Food, sex, men…”
Goddamn the way my skin flushed so easily. I could feel the warmth flowing into my cheeks, and I tried to hide it by lifting my coffee to my lips with both hands.
“Halo.” Imogen’s voice was softer as she leaned over to cover my mug. As I lowered the coffee back to the table, her forehead creased. “Tell me. Tell me what’s going on.”
I stared at Im, wondering if I confessed, if I told her my secret, if she’d still look at me the same way she looked at me now. But the truth was that I was tired of hiding. She knew something was up, and eventually, she’d figure it all out. It was better to have it come from my lips than for her to find out some other way.
Setting down my fork, I let out a long rush of air, my skin scorching now. She waited patiently, and when I found my tongue, I said, “I’m involved with Viper.”
From her lead-up to this moment, I could tell she’d been suspicious, but when I actually said the words, Imogen swallowed, the rest of her frozen.
“Define…involved,” she said slowly.
God, where was the alcohol when I needed it? “I’ve been staying at his place most nights.”
Imogen stared at me, and the shock written all over her face would’ve been funny if it hadn’t been in response to what I’d told her. When minutes passed and she didn’t blink or say anything, I waved a hand in front of her face.
“Im? You okay?”
“I… You…” She finally blinked. “I’m gonna need a minute.” She held up a finger as she lifted her mug to her lips, finishing off the rest of the coffee, and when she set it down, she said, “Okay. I’m ready. Explain.”
I started at the very beginning, when I’d walked into the audition and how Viper gave me a hard time. Even though she’d known that bit from my freak-out after the audition, now that I knew what Viper had actually been thinking, I had a different perspective on it. I told her about how he defended me after the disastrous show in Savannah. How we’d worked together to write the songs for the album, and how that slowly turned things into more, until it all exploded back in Miami. I glossed over the details, because my sister didn’t need to know all that, but I explained the situation, how we’d agreed to keep our attraction strictly physical. Obviously I wasn’t gonna tell her I’d started having feelings for Viper, because that was something that couldn’t happen, but it was enough that she was in the know now.
When I’d finished spilling my guts, Imogen’s mouth opened and shut a few times, like she had a million questions but couldn’t decide where to start.
“But Halo, you’re not… I mean, does this make you… Are you—”
“Gay?” I said. “Honestly? I’ve asked myself that, and I don’t fucking know. Does being attracted to Viper automatically put me in that category? I don’t know how this works, Im. I’ve never thought about it before, and I just…” I gripped the back of my neck. “I don’t know.”
“Hey.” She reached for my free hand and squeezed. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”
I squeezed back. “I know.”
Imogen rubbed her thumb over the back of my hand. “You really weren’t going to tell me any of this, were you?”