I focused on his heat and the steady thump-thump of his pulse against my back. His palm settled just above the waistband of my pajama pants, tempting, hot, but unmoving. His weight draped against me, anchored something inside that had been floating free in a nightmare tide of bouncing emotions. I sank into his arms.
His lips brushed the nape of my neck. “Sleep.”
And somehow, I did.
26
There’sa particular clarity that comes with true sleep, the kind that smooths the jagged edges of panic and guilt. I woke to Peanut Butter’s weightless bouncing across the mattress, Nox hot on his heels in a play fight. Arched backs, sideways hops, all silent intensity without a single puffy tail or growl to signal real aggression.
The faint glow of dawn outlined the curtains, but Angel’s arm around my waist anchored me more firmly than the bed itself. His warmth seeped into my back, his breathing slow and even against my nape. The realization hit me like a physical blow. I wanted to turn over, tuck my face against his throat, and lose myself in this peace. In him.
The intensity of that need terrified me. What wouldn’t I do for this man? The question sent a shiver down my spine, not from fear, but from the terrifying rightness of it. Would he run if he knew how deep the need went? Did I have any right to him at all after I’d hurt him?
Peanut Butter launched onto the headboard with a thump, perched precariously above Angel. I braced for impact.
Experience is a bitch.
“Don’t move,” Angel grumbled, his arm tightening. His voice was sleep rough, vibrating through me where his chest pressed against my back.
“You don’t want cat claws in your face,” I warned.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” His sigh stirred my hair. “I’m amazed you slept through their performance.”
It took my caffeine deprived brain a moment to process. “The door.” Peanut Butter considered a closed door his mortal enemy. That pathetic, world ending wail he perfected whenever denied access to his kingdom could wake the dead. Though apparently, I’d missed it.
Angel nuzzled the space between my shoulder blades.
“Sorry. I should have remembered to leave it cracked.”
“You were exhausted.” His lips brushed my spine, silencing me. “Your brother’s been pacing outside the door for twenty minutes.”
I twisted to see Angel’s face. His eyes still closed, lashes dark against his cheeks, so perfectly at home in my bed it made my chest ache. “I should go check on him.”
“Hmm,” he grumbled but loosened his arm.
I slid out, snapped my T-shirt up off the floor, and tugged it over my head before opening the door to the rest of the apartment. The microwave clock read a quarter after seven. Early. I’d never been one for sleeping in, not until Angel.
Ivan sat coiled on the couch, already dressed in a hoodie and jeans, strawberry-blond hair secured in a haphazard ponytail. The sight of his bouncing knee stilled when he saw me.
“Keanan’s picking me up,” he blurted, “to take me to the community center.”
The words hit like a rejection. We’d only been home less than a day. Had I done something? Said something?
“I’m going to play in the climbing room,” Ivan confessed, as if it were a dirty secret.
“Oh.” I took that in. If I were a cat, it would have sounded like fun. “You know you can change here as much as you want, right?”
“Yes. But you have nine-foot ceilings. The center has carpet walls made for climbing.” He flexed his hands in his lap. “It feels good on my claws.” His cheeks pinked. “And napping in the sun. There are a few regular classes, too. Language and art and stuff.”
“You’re bringing your phone, right? Do you need money for food?” I added money to his phone regularly, though he hadn’t seemed to spend much of it.
“Minors eat free at the center,” he said. “I’ll have to leave my phone in a locker, but I promise, I’ll be fine.” His gaze flicked past me to the cracked bedroom door, then back. “You should spend the day with Angel. Like a not-working day. No raising the dead or anything.”
“Or magic shields to stop flying cars.”
Ivan shrugged. “I mean, if you want to be Iron Man or something.”
“I think that would be more Professor X.”
