Was this guy trying to pick a fight with him? If so, what could I do? Shine bright lights in their eyes? Interpretive dance again? Call Kat and her boyfriend to kick some butt for us?
“Go on, Tori,” Angel said.
“I’ll be in your room if you need anything,” I said, reluctantly making my retreat.
Halfway through my walk to the stairs, their voices rose.
Angel’s mom spoke loudly over her boyfriend, “I’ll talk to him. He’s my son. You don’t need to talk to him.”
Angel wasn’t kidding when he said he understood complicated family dynamics. And he’d been there for me, so I’d be there for him, even if that meant waiting in another room with my ear pressed to the door.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to strain as hard to get a response to my love confession. But maybe the chance of some magical moment had gone in the trash along with our leftover cake.
Chapter twenty-seven
Soft Landing
The argument wasn’t loud enough to reach me upstairs, but I did hear the bump of luggage against the stairs and grumblings about respect in the hallway, which must’ve been courtesy of the guy in sunglasses.
I didn’t know what to do.
Get ready for bed? Pack? Put on my cutest lingerie so I could cheer Angel up when he came in?
We probably wouldn’t be doing any intimate activities now that his mom was in the house. Still, he liked pretty things. He liked me. Loved me?
I might not ever know, since his mom walked in right after my confession.
Footsteps padded closer. Angel’s? I shot across the room, pacing so he wouldn’t think I was eavesdropping.
Someone knocked twice.
“Angel? It’s unlocked,” I said, opening the door. Why would he knock for his own room?
He slipped inside with his gaze downcast and his face a blank canvas. “Hey.”
“Hey. Are you okay?” I started touching him in the anxious hope my hands would find and heal any damage he may have gotten from whatever happened downstairs.
“I’m fine.” He gently pulled my hands away. “Sorry you had to witness that.”
I linked our fingers together. “Families can be complicated. Just wait ‘til you meet Jen.”
He chuckled without much humor and rested his forehead against mine. “Do you want me to take you to Kat’s tonight?”
I tentatively met his stormy gaze. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” he whispered, shutting his eyes. “I’d like you to stay here forever. But even I can’t do that.”
Sympathy stung the backs of my eyes. “Did your mom kick you out?”
“Not yet. Not exactly, anyway.” He slipped past me to grab his duffel bag. “But I’ll need to be out tomorrow morning, and so will you.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story,” he said.
I grabbed a pillow and settled on my stomach on the bed. “I’m listening.”
He rolled his tight shoulders and began to pack. “My mom rents out her house for various enterprises: VidTokkers who want to pretend they’re living good, bachelorette parties, fitness and ‘lifestyle’ gurus. She even rented it out for an ‘indie’ movie once.”
