Fallen Angel Read Online Free Page B

out loud. It’s the blurred line of false familiar comfort and pre-pubescent nerves of Jell-O that are wreaking all this havoc, and I don’t know how to get a grasp on either.
    The good news is, without the distraction of his gorgeous smile or his ridiculous eight pack visible even through his tight t-shirt every time he moves, not to mention the intoxication caused by his scent, as well as the deep hypnotic silk that is his voice, I’m actually getting shit done in here. One more auction worthy item and I can make a run for it. Until tomorrow. When I have to come back and take him furniture shopping.
    I’m so wrapped up in my internal rambling, I don’t even hear him when he comes back.
    “You plan on eating anything today, or just living on coffee like your sister?”
    My head pops up out of my current box to find him standing in the doorway, a plate in his hands.
    “Um, I was going with the coffee thing. But I’m not known to turn down food when offered.” I pat the dust off my hands and start walking toward him, caution lights exploding in my brain with each step I take because I’m gushing internally knowing he cared enough to make me lunch. Then I want to break out the happy dance when I see the plate is covered in brownies. Of course, my mood takes a definite turn in the opposite direction when the plate and the brownies move away the closer my hand gets.
    “Nuh-uh.”
    I think I might have to fight back tears. “Why would you bring them up here if you weren’t going to let me have them?” Aw, hell. That sentence could be applied to more than just pastries right now.
    “These were just to lure you from the room. Lunch is downstairs. This is dessert.” He nods at the plate filled with chocolate goodness. Not that I needed clarifying on what would be dessert. Okay, yeah. I totally needed clarifying.
    I make a face. “If you needed to bribe me with chocolate, lunch must not look very appetizing.”
    He scoffs dramatically. “Lunch is delicious.” He pauses once we make it down the stairs and lets me pass. “But it’s also healthy, and I know how you Jennison girls frown upon foods without sugar.”
    “You know, not everything that applies to Eda also transfers over to me.” This does. But generally speaking, outside of our love for sugar and coffee...and Nutella, our tastes vary quite a bit.
    He laughs quietly, his hand mysteriously appearing on my lower back as we walk into the kitchen.
    “I wasn’t thinking of Ava. I was thinking of your graduation party at Ocean’s Pantry and the look on your face when I asked you if you wanted to try some of my dinner.”
    I shudder, and not in a good way. “Yeah, your dinner still had its head. I’m not anti-eating seafood, I’m just anti-eating food that can see me.”
    “For the record, I didn’t know they were going to serve the fish that way.” He reaches for two plates on the counter, “and more importantly, lunch is completely face free.”
    This only makes me feel slightly better considering the meal is still unrecognizable, not my favorite thing in food I’m meant to eat, but then the concept of sharing a meal with Angel may be the top favorite thing of all time.
    He slides both plates onto the small table in the corner and we both take our seats. Since my brain is torn between freaking out about the mystery food, and the many ways in which I could convince myself that this is a date, I opt for the healthier route and pursue small talk. “So, what was Derek doing here this morning?”
    I swear Angel hurries to move his fork to his mouth, just so he doesn’t have to answer.
    Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out what I’m looking at. The green stuff on the side is definitely an avocado. I’m good with that. In fact, if the entire plate were covered in avocado, I’d be more than happy to lick it clean, but that’s not the case. The rest resembles some sort of fried rice. Only it’s not. Rice. And there’s more green stuff in it.