“Why is that a question?”
I took a step back, out of his touch, needing a second to collect myself. I fumbled for the coffee, snapping it up from the counter and chugging half of it as I stared at him, his brow furrowed as if studying me. Even the coffee he made was perfect. What had I done to deserve this man, who seemed like some sort of unicorn among men, crafted just for me?
“I don’t deserve you,” I said.
He blinked, then returned to his sexy lean, expression thoughtful. “Would it help if I farted a lot and left my clothes on the floor?”
His clothes might actually still be on the floor in my bedroom, and I didn’t care one bit. “Uh…”
“I’m not perfect, Jude. You saw that when I was in pain. I shut down. We all struggle sometimes.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He groaned, grabbed the mug out of my hands, set it down, and backed me up against the counter, his body hot and solid against me. “I don’t blame you. How many times do I have to say it?”
“Iblameme.”
He sighed. “What does your guilt gain either of us? Time together? Understanding? Does it give you anything other than pain?”
I thought about that and shook my head. “I don’t want to be that guy. Hurting you and apologizing all the time like some sort of psycho.”
“Like your dad,” Angel corrected.
I flinched. “I warned you I’m bad at relationships.”
“It’s called trauma. We all have it.”
“I want to be perfectforyou. Like you are for me.” I held up a hand to stop his protest. “I don’t mean perfect like without flaws. I mean meant to fit together.” I swallowed and said, “I don’t mean the sexual kind of fit either. Obviously that works just fine.”
Angel arched a brow at me. “Just fine?”
“Incredibly well?” I picked up the mug and took another long gulp of the coffee, grateful for the warmth waking up my brain. “I mean I want us to work. More than just in the bedroom.” What if he didn’t want that?Fuck.“Unless that’s not what you want?”
He leaned in, his arm sliding around me, sighing as I settled against him. “The desire is easy. Newly bonded, it burns hot. Or at least that’s what Xavier tells me. I’ve never met a bonded pair before. Not since I was a kid.”
“That’s my point. You’re beautiful. Melt-my-brain hot. And I’m just me. Do we work at all?”
“Melt your brain?” he mimicked, but shook his head. “What do you suggest?”
Ivan had a good idea, and why not. Sometimes it took someone from outside the relationship to see what was needed. “A date without magic?”
“That’s easy. I’m a shifter. I don’t have magic.”
“No summoning the dead or stopping cars with shields would be nice.”
Angel traced idle patterns with his fingertips where his arm encircled me. “A date.” His breath warmed my temple. “I spend most of my time across the Veil when not working. Fewer people to stare.”
“People stare because you’re hot.”
“People stare because I have a shifter band, am covered in tattoos, and am not white. Those things send most people running.”
I brushed my thumb over the faint scar on his hand, thankful it wasn’t raised and angry. It wasn’t his only scar. Most hid beneath the ink, unseen by anyone unwilling to touch him. And the short time we’d been together hadn’t given me enough time to memorize them all. I hadn’t thought I’d be the one to add to the collection. “People are stupid.”
He chuckled. “They are. You sure you want a date across the Veil with me?”
“You don’t need to wine and dine me. Just show me what you enjoy doing on your days off.” I motioned to the empty apartment. “You know what I do. I take care of my brother, my grandpa, my best friend, and occasionally dance to K-pop. What do you do?”
“Sleep a lot. Work out. Eat dessert. Read. Watch movies.”
