Page 60 of Angel

We’re in quite the staring match, and I will not be the one to lose. Once again, I lean a little closer, my lips so close like a written invitation.

“So, what do we do while we wait?”

He stares into my eyes and I shiver inside. This would be so easy. If I leaned forward now, I would be past the point of no return.

If I close my eyes, I can already lose myself in what our kiss would be like.

The ruin of me.

I have no guy, no inhibitions, and no regrets, but I am already fixated on one man, rapidly becoming two. Would I really cheat on one with the other and vice versa? That’s not me, no matter how much I wish it was right now.

Reluctantly, I pull away, and my voice catches as I say brightly, “You could return the favor and tell me about your family.”

It’s an innocent question, and yet it’s as if I asked him to kill himself.

“Do you like horror stories, Sophie?”

I wasn’t expecting that response and wonder if I’ve overstepped the boundary already.

“They died when I was ten years old.’

I feel bad. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t like to talk about it.”

“We share that in common. Losing our parents at a young age, I mean. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Why don’t you date?”

I change the subject.

“I could ask you the same question.”

I suppose I deserve that. “Because I don’t trust anyone.”

“That’s sad.”

“Then we are both sad because it seems to me we are cut from the same piece of cloth. You must know what it’s like. Life in the spotlight is a scary place to live, and dragging anyone inside the circle of light would be cruel. I get my kicks; occasionally I have dinner with a guy. Sometimes we fuck, sometimes just a kiss. I’m not a virgin. Well, not anymore.”

You’re over sharing, Sophie. What the hell is wrong with you?

My inner voice obviously knows a lot more about conversation with a love interest than I do, and I say hastily,

“Don’t get me wrong, I love a man’s attention. I just don’t want the hassle that follows it.”

“I understand that.”

He smiles. “No strings.”

“None at all.”

“I just want you to know that I don’t fuck random men.”

Color floods my cheeks, and I wonder if I’m putting him off. I don’t know why that bothers me, but it really does.

I’m a liar and a slut. Who the hell cares anyway?