“You misled me on purpose.” I poked his chest.
He grasped my hand, drawing my knuckles close to his lips. “Pidge, if you were that curious about my sex life, all you had to do was ask. I’m available. Tonight, in fact.”
My jaw hung open in a shocked little squawk.
Was that an invitation for sex?
“You…are an idiot,” I said, yanking my hand back.
And so was I for thinking we could ever be friends. Or more than that.
Face flaming, I stalked off, and Angel followed at my heels.
“Wait, I’m sorry.” He tugged lightly on my elbow. “Let me buy you a drink.”
I whipped around. “Why? So you can keep making fun of me?”
“I’m teasing. Flirting, actually,” he said, the bar lights dancing in his eyes like little fireflies. “I thought that’s what we were doing. Why you came to see me. Why you dressed up so pretty. And you are beautiful,Tori, no matter what you’re wearing.” He caressed the inside of my wrist, my pulse jumping at his touch.
I crossed my arms to smother any fluffier, forgiving feelings. “You’re pretty too. Pretty annoying.”
He chuckled. “I know. I’m sorry. Would you prefer I woo you properly? Bring you flowers? Get approval from your family?”
“No.” I huffed.
Kat glanced at us, but wouldn’t come over unless I signaled her or froze up in panic. She trusted me. Despite everything.
“My family situation is a little complicated right now,” I admitted, softening my stance.
“You mentioned that at The Closette.” He glanced down and swirled his drink. “I can relate to fucked-up family dynamics. That kind of stress can make it hard to navigate other relationships.” His gaze darkened, unfocused. “It affects your appetite, your sleep. Everything.”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“Add in a job on your feet all day?” He shook his head.
“How do you manage it?” I asked.
“Sometimes it helps to vent. Or find a distraction.” He edged out a stool in invitation for either option.
For once, it didn’t seem like he was baiting me.
I unfastened one more button on my sweater and slid onto the seat. “I think I’ll take that drink. But I’m not in school, anymore, Angel, so please don’t test me…or my feelings.”
“I’ll do my best, Tori,” he said, nestling in beside me.
It shouldn’t have mattered that we bumped knees or brushed feet. They were just parts of our bodies.
But so was the heart.
And the heart could be a wonderful, curious thing.
Chapter eight
Drink
Angel gestured to the bar. “What can I get you?”
I wracked my brain for something people ordered in the movies. “A Long Island Iced Tea.”
