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“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?”


Tags: Ella Frank, Brooke Blaine Fallen Angel Romance