Ascend (Celestial Academy Book 1)

by Maya Nicole

  Although, a certain dirty-mouthed vigilante kept popping into my head as well, but that was probably something for a therapist to explore.

  I plopped down in a leather armchair in the corner of the library and tipped my head back to let the light from the colonial-style window hit my face. What I would give to be napping right now. With a long exhale, I sat up and dug in the front section of my bag for the tiny pouch with my Flair pens. They were my version of a fidget spinner; constantly switching pens helped my focus. Plus, they made my notes look like a rainbow threw up on them. A win in my book.

  They were nowhere to be found though. Hopefully they were back in my room. Or had I left them in a class? Shrugging to myself, I dropped my bag on the floor and scanned the library. It was empty as usual. Ms. Hall was just out of my line of sight, her long manicured nails creating a very faint tapping sound on her keyboard. Hopefully this week wouldn't be a repeat of last week.

  The heavy wooden library door opened and I turned my head towards it.

  No. Just no.

  I pressed my lips together and gripped the arms of the chair, digging my fingernails into the leather. If I hadn't known him already, I would have sat up straighter, pushed my chest out, smoothed down my clothes. Then worried about my choice in wearing sweats.

  Oliver Morgan was breathtaking.

  He walked towards me, his lips quirked into a small smile, his blue eyes appraising my sweats. He sat down in the chair next to me and turned to face me, touching the top of his brown hair as if to check that the hair product that held it in place was still working.

  I pursed my lips and crossed my legs. "Well, isn't this fucking fantastic."

  He shrugged his shoulders and tilted his chin in the direction of my bag while he shrugged out of his blue blazer and laid it over the arm of the chair. The faint smell of chocolate chip cookies hit my nose.

  "Did you bring the binder?"

  "What binder?" My eyebrows drew together and I tilted my head slightly to the side. "Was I supposed to bring stuff?"

  "The school handbook binder. Dean Whittaker said she told you to bring it with you. That's what we're going to be going over." He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back against the back of the chair.

  "Oh... I forgot."

  He shut his eyes and opened them in an extra-long blink and then leaned forward again to pull his binder out of his bag. "Let's just get this over with."

  He moved his chair so our knees were practically touching and opened the binder, placing it on my lap. He pointed to the first line in the table of contents. Dress code.

  "Is this really necessary? I can just read it on my own." I leaned my elbow on the side of the chair and put my cheek on my fist.

  He grunted and flipped the pages open to the dress code section. He then reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen and handed them to me. I ran my hand over the smooth cover of the notebook that had a pink watercolor design and a gold embossed D on it. The pen was thicker than usual, given it had ten retractable colors.

  "What's this for?" I shifted in my seat. I was kicking myself for the flutters in my stomach. Why had he given me something so... personalized?

  He let out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Notes. Remember you'll have a test at the end of our mentoring sessions."

  "Right... So, dress code." I flipped open the small notebook and labeled the first page. "Rule 1. Wear ridiculous sailor uniforms because we're children that can't dress ourselves. Is that correct?"

  "Are you going to take this seriously? We wear uniforms so we aren't distracted from our studies. God only knows what you would wear if you were given free rein." He looked at my sweats with a raised eyebrow.

  I pushed down hard with my pen as I wrote. He leaned forward again and looked at the page, nodding his head slightly. I didn't know how he could read upside down; I sure couldn't. I clicked the pen a few times and drew several swirly circles on the corner of my paper.

  "Are you listening?"

  My head snapped up and I pulled the notebook towards my chest. "I umm... no. I wasn't listening. I mean, I was but..."

  He tapped a finger on his lips before sitting back in his chair, his legs moving out from where they were against the bottom of the chair and touching mine.

  "Is your endgame to go to hell and work with your father? Really, you punched a guy because he gave you a church paper or something?" His eyebrows furrowed and he reached forward and grabbed the pen I continued to click.

  I looked down at the binder on my lap and brushed away an imaginary piece of eraser shaving. He didn't say anything during my silence, the only noise in the room the faint sound of steps in the hall and the printer at Ms. Hall's desk spitting out papers.

  He broke the silence by nudging my foot with his, causing my head to snap up. He looked back at me, his light smattering of freckles even more prominent in the slant of light from the window.

  "That is what happened, right?" He put the pen back in the middle of the binder.

  "He did give me a church flier, so that's what the principal chose to believe."

  He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. I could tell he really wanted to ask more questions. Only Ava and I knew the truth, and we wanted to keep it that way. We had heard rumors that those who knew and didn't join were beaten to a pulp.

  I closed the binder and handed it back to him while grabbing my bag off the floor. I quickly stood while unzipping it and dropping the pen and notebook inside.

  "Where are you going? We have fifteen more minutes. If Dean Whittaker-"

  "I don't give a shit about Dean Whittaker or any of this. You sitting here acting like you care is a joke." My eyes darted to the door and then back to him.

  He looked up at me with downturned lips and stood. "At least stay in the library so if she comes by you don't get in more trouble."

  "Fine," I said through gritted teeth before turning and making my way down the rows of books labeled Angel History.

  I grabbed a random book off a shelf and started flipping through it, stopping to look at the pictures. What was I even looking at? I slammed the book shut and read the title on the cover: Angel Disgrace During the 1970s. I snorted back a laugh.

  "It is funny, isn't it? That they'd put that crap in a book for everyone to see."

  I turned and rolled my eyes as Oliver leaned on the sturdy wooden shelf next to me. He plucked the book from my hands, frowning.

  "I wonder what they'll write about me." He flipped through the book in the same way I had, furrowing his brows.

  "Probably that you're an asshole that picks on the weak."

  "You aren't weak. Your actually pretty strong." He shut the book with a snap and reached past me and put it on the shelf, his shirt sleeve brushing against my shoulder.

  "Oh, so that's what all the bullying is for? To test my strength? You know what? I'm actually glad because now I get to see what phonies you all are. My dad is more angel than any of you."

  I straightened my back and stared up at Oliver. I hadn't realized he was so tall, the top of my head coming to his chin. Someone knew what they were doing when they created him.

  He stared back down at me and leaned closer.

  "Maybe you're right," he said gently.

  And then he kissed me.

  I laid on the soft comforter of my bed, the slight breeze outside wafting in and brushing across my skin. My lips still tingled from Oliver's very short, yet satisfying, kiss. One second his lips were on me and the next he was out the door. My mind was swirling as I brought my fingers to my lips.

  The kiss had lasted only for a few seconds, but a few seconds I couldn't take back. It sent a thrill through me, kissing him there against the shelf in the library, each breath smelling of books and the faint scent of chocolate chip cookies.

  Honestly, I felt a little like a harlot. Three men had occupied my mind today and I couldn't stop thinking about my body pressed up against them, their hands roaming my curves, their lip
s on my-

  My phone buzzed on my chest and I lifted it above my face to read a text from Ava. My head hurt. Maybe my heart hurt a little too. Oliver Morgan had kissed me. And I kissed him back.

  I had been texting Ava all evening about my confusion.

  Aren't you sick of idiot boys? I vote for the teacher. He's a man.

  She had a point, but would that even work? He was absolutely the most attentive guy I had ever been interested in. He had even left a can of soup, box of crackers, and bottle of 7 Up outside my door. I felt only slightly guilty that my stomachache had been a lie to be left alone.

  I think he stole my panties.

  So? That's hot. What do you think he did with those panties? He's probably not wearing them if that's what you're thinking. She followed her text with an eggplant emoji. Ava wasn't so innocent after all.

  A laugh bubbled out of me. Wow. No words.

  I need to tell you something... about John.

  My stomach dropped and I sat up. I could see she was typing out a text so I waited. My hand shook slightly.

  That day you punched him, Officer Flores took that flier off the ground. I'm not sure what happened exactly, but him and his dad were arrested over the weekend.

  I let out a long, shaky breath of air. I knew exactly what happened. His father's drug mule business, hidden behind the veil of being a church, had imploded. Him giving me the flier like that was a threat to me to work for them or be sacrificed. When John gave you a flier, there was no choice.

  I knew I should have never bought my weed from him in the first place, but I had needed it and it was high quality. If I had known they were more than just weed dealers, I would have found someone else.

  My phone buzzed and another text popped up with an unknown number. I opened it and a smile spread across my face.

  Asher: Hey, this is your knight in shining armor, Ash. How is your head?

  Me: It's feeling better. If angels weren't such dicks it would be even better.

  Asher: I won't disagree with that. What happened? Whose ass do I need to kick?

  I laughed, a smile plastered on my face. Everyone’s.

  Asher: Even Toby's?

  Me: What are you up to tomorrow? I'm thinking of ditching classes...

  Asher: Work. I usually go to the pool hall or a bar after.

  I bit my lip and went to stand by the window, looking out over the darkened campus. There were several angels milling about and one on the far side, across the far field, going into the trees.

  Me: Let's hang out. Ditch work.

  Asher: Can't do that but maybe when I get home. Meet at my place at 5ish?

  Me: Yeah, see you then.

  Now I was going to get no sleep because I was sleeping with a teacher, kissing my bully who bought me a personalized notebook and pen, and hanging out with a Fallen.

  Chapter Nine

  I must have been overzealous about hanging out with Asher because I got to his place before he did. I sat at the top of the metal stairs that led to his door and tried to calm the fluttering in my stomach.

  This was just two friends hanging out. Right? Not that he was a friend yet, he was Tobias's long-lost Fallen friend. Tobias was surprisingly understanding, or at least he appeared that way when he stopped by after classes to check on me. I couldn't keep this from him, especially given their history. Which was still a big fat mystery to me. There had to be more to their stories than just that they had fought and died together in WWII.

  Nothing was ever so cut and dry.

  "A woman that's on time, I like that."

  My eyes snapped to the bottom of the stairs and I stood, tugging my shirt so it fell back into place. I hadn't even heard him drive up in his truck.

  "Or I just got lucky. There was no traffic." I adjusted the strap of my purse on my shoulder. God, why was I so nervous?

  He smiled and slid his sunglasses on the top of his head. His hair was pulled back into a small man bun, which worked for him, and his face was cleanly shaven. I tried to hide the fact that my eyes ran down his body, taking in his opened blue plaid flannel, gray shirt, blue jeans, and work boots marked with dirt. The flirty smirk on his face told me I didn't do a good job.

  "I hope you don't mind if I shower first." He brushed past me and opened his door, holding it open. "I'm assuming you don't want me to smell."

  I smiled at him as I squeezed past him and took in the clean space. The other day it had clothes thrown over a chair and floor, and empty bottles and food containers covering the counters. It had looked like he hadn't cleaned in weeks.

  "You didn't have to clean for me."

  "Who said I cleaned for you?" He bumped my shoulder playfully as he passed and went to the kitchen. "Drink?"

  I watched as he poured himself a glass of whiskey and then went to the refrigerator. "I've got wine, beer, Diet Dr. Pepper."

  My heart fluttered. He had said Diet Dr. Pepper was crap, but he had stocked his fridge with some. "I'll take some wine."

  He turned and raised his eyebrows but then pulled a bottle of white wine out and grabbed a wine glass out of a top cupboard. He probably didn't use the wine glasses often.

  He walked over to where I had perched on the arm of the couch and held the half-filled glass out to me. I reached out to take it, our fingers touching, but he didn't let go. His slate blue eyes, a little bluer than the other day, stared down at me, then at my lips. My legs spread slightly and he took a small step forward.

  "I should go take a shower." His voice had taken on a slightly husky quality but then he stepped back and pulled his sunglasses off the top of his head. "Make yourself at home."

  I let out a shaky breath after he slid the bathroom door shut and sat down on the couch. All I could think about was him in the shower. Did the muscles in his forearms extend under his shirt? Did he have any tattoos?

  Never before had I longed for three guys. I hated admitting to myself that there were three but I couldn't stop thinking about chocolate chip cookies. Two were probably more man than I could handle, and then there was Oliver. I didn't even know how old he was. He was around my age, but he was a Class I angel, which meant he just was.

  Tobias and I hadn't talked about us. The idea of being a couple was too new. We barely knew each other. But he hadn't said anything about me wanting to hang out with Asher. Because that's all this was, two people getting to know each other as friends.

  I sipped the wine, the faint hint of fruit staying on the back of my tongue. I didn't usually like wine, but this almost tasted like juice. I turned on the TV to some court show and only half paid attention until the bathroom door slid open.

  The soft scent of coconut and pineapple wafted into the room. Asher did not strike me as the tropical scent type, but I wasn't complaining. I turned my head and watched as he walked out with a towel around his waist, his lean, toned body on full display. I raised my wine glass to my mouth and took a prolonged sip as he walked up the two steps to the bedroom platform to a chest of drawers, his back turned towards me. He had a large tattoo of black wings covering the entirety of his back and part of his arms.

  Holy mother of all things holy.

  I turned so my leg was bent on the couch and watched as he dropped his towel and pulled a pair of blue jeans from a drawer. I didn't know if he thought I wouldn't look or if he was purposely baring his toned ass.

  My wine was gone, but my lips were still on the rim of the glass as he slid the jeans on with no underwear. Tobias wasn't too keen on wearing them either. The jeans hit just below the two dimples in his lower back.

  Quickly turning back towards the TV so I wouldn't be caught, I put my hand on my chest to try to calm myself down. The judge on TV was lecturing a couple for wasting her time with nonsense.

  I didn't look away from the TV until he walked into the kitchen, buttoning the last button on his green plaid shirt, but leaving the top two undone. He grabbed the whiskey he had left on the kitchen table and drank it all at once.

  "Ready to go? I
was thinking we could check out this new Korean barbecue place a few blocks from here."

  He offered me his hand and I took it as I got up off the couch. His callused hand was massive compared to mine and made me feel... safe. I followed him as we made our way down the stairs, still letting him hold my hand.

  Dinner was interesting. Not interesting in a bad way, but in a 'holy shit is he flirting with me?' and 'please, keep your leg pressed against mine' kind of way. We talked about almost everything. Food, his business, my school issues past and present, interests.

  He threaded his fingers through mine, looking over at me as we made our way back down the street towards his place. The whole area was being revitalized by people like him, turning previously abandoned buildings into lively hot spots and living spaces.

  "Are you going to come up or head back to school?" He had finally let my hand go and had his arm slung around my shoulder, his fingers playing with my hair. I was glad I had chosen at the last minute to wear it down.

  I wasn't cold but had goosebumps on my skin from his touch. Did I want to go up to his place with the bed and the couch all in the same room, beckoning me? Yes. Should I? The jury was still out on that one.

  I looked up at him, the white strand lights in the trees lining the street creating a soft glow on the sidewalk. His eyes sparkled and looked back at me, darkened with dilated pupils. What would it be like to have his strong, callused hands on my skin?

  His hand tightened on my shoulder and he stopped, his neck stiffening and his eyes darting to the other side of the street.

  "Stay right here." He moved me in front of a large window of a restaurant, the couple sitting on the other side glancing briefly at us before going back to their conversation. "I need to go check something out."

  Before I could protest or ask any questions, he jogged across the street, stopping in the middle on the dashed yellow lines to wait for passing vehicles. I watched the space between two buildings he had disappeared between with a frown and then made my way across the street. It led to an alley that ran behind the buildings. I strained to hear but the only sounds were the passing of cars and the noises coming from the restaurants and bars lining the street.