Page 188 of Wicked Angel
“Angeline…”
“I’m not done yet. I put you on a pedestal to create distance between us. Then I pulled you down off that pedestal and hated you after you kissed me that night, years ago, because I thought I couldn’t really have you. That you didn’t really like me. Then when we started working together, spending time together, I realized I’d put you back up on that pedestal at some point. I don’t even know how that happened. I really thought I hated you. I’d convinced myself that I did. But then I realized… maybe I could have you. Maybe you did really like me—”
“I did. I do.”
I took another breath, really letting those words sink in. I knew he meant them.
“I let myself feel for you, Johnny,” I told him. “I do feel for you. And when I feel… I feeleverything. And that’s what scares me. So, I guess that’s why I came here.” I sighed, relieved to let it out, though a little sorry that I’d cut and run just like he did, more or less. “When I woke up this morning and you were gone, again, I just couldn’t stomach following you down that road. I want a whole person, even if he’s broken. I can handle that. I can’t handle only getting pieces of you when it suits you.”
He leaned forward onto his knees and studied my face. “I hear you. And that’s fair. You deserve a whole person. But you’re not in anyone’s shadow, Angeline. You shine so bright, you make me see stars.”
My insides instantly turned to hot liquid, like a candle engulfed in flame, and I fell forward, taking his face in my hands and kissing him hard. “Why do you say things like that?” I gushed. “You’re gonna kill me, Johnny O’Reilly.”
“It’s the truth.”
I kissed him again. He kissed me back, but he didn’t seem happy. I clung to the kiss, scared to death that he was here to break up with me. Was that why he said those lovely things? To let me down easy?
I released him, taking a breath and settling back in my seat. “How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. I was just kind of in the neighborhood. I was heading home to talk to you, but… I, uh, stopped in to see your parents.”
Okay, now I was confused. “Oh.”
“They said ‘Come by anytime’ after dinner that night. And I realized they actually meant it.”
“They did.”
“Yeah. So…” He cleared this throat. He seemed nervous, which I wasn’t sure how to take. I’d never seen Johnny nervous before. Far from it. Cool, calm, controlled, yes. And maybe pissed off a time or two. But never nervous. “Your dad mentioned he likes Elton John, and I got these tickets for his farewell tour. He’s playing Vancouver in October. I, uh, got the tickets for your parents.”
“Really?” A stupid smile spread across my face. “My dad is going to love you.”
Johnny didn’t look happy about that either, though. “Yeah. I’m not sure I should give them to him.”
“Why not?”
He took a deep, measured breath, avoiding my eyes. “I have this kind of… mentor. He was my therapist for years. He still kind of is, even though he’s retired. His name is Rory. That’s who I was with this morning. I was at his place. We’re kind of friends, actually, so… I kind of care about him a lot.”
I took that in. “Well, that’s good. Having someone to talk to…?”
“Yeah. It is. He’s good for that. He always was. Talking to him is kind of like having this hippie uncle who’s super wise and insightful, knows way more about you than you ever wanted him to, and is ridiculously patient and compassionate even when you’re being stubborn and pissy with him. I honestly think he’s the main reason I’m not dead.”
“Johnny…” I leaned toward him and slid my hand onto his knee. Thatdeadthing rattled me, but I tried not to show it. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I went with, “Thank you for telling me that.”
He rubbed his jaw and met my eyes. “There’s more.”
“Okay.”
“There’s much, much more, Angeline.”
A hint of dread trickled down my spine at his tone and the nervous vibes he was giving off. He seemed tense, the air around him crackling with unease. He wasn’t his usual cool-yet-tightly-wound. More like jittery, even though he wasn’t moving.
I squeezed his knee reassuringly. “Okay. I’m listening.”
Just then, the patio door slid open. “Lemonade!” Mom announced, and Johnny got up to take the wooden tray she was carrying. “Oh, thank you, Johnny,” she said, and her gaze slid over to me.
I gave her a sharp look and rolled my eyes toward the house.
She took the hint. “Enjoy!”
