Romeo and the Angel: Impossible Crush Chronicles

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Romeo and the Angel: Impossible Crush Chronicles Page 17

by Leeann M. Shane


  “Yes, I see the truth. But I had too much at stake to risk it fighting something I was never going to win. Rome’s fighting. Harder than anyone I’ve ever met.” He grinned this sad proud grin. “Sergio’s breaking him. Slowly but surely.”

  Dark rage began to filter into my blood. I wanted to protect Romeo. He didn’t deserve to go through this, not after spending his life fighting for his family. “That’s not fair,” I hissed.

  “Fair doesn’t matter in our world. Maybe it does in yours, but not ours.”

  I hated how resolute they both sounded about their lives. Like there wasn’t a way out. There was always a way out. I would make sure of it. The resolution helped chase away some of the frightened fury working its way through me. But not all of it.

  My phone rang and I scrambled to answer, only a tiny bit disappointed when I saw that it was my sister. “Hey, Ken.”

  “Where are you?” she demanded.

  Raf watched me intently. Had he chosen Kenzie in a way? Let her go so she wouldn’t have to make the choice herself? And was Romeo going to do the same? “I’m kind of sort of stuck in Romeo’s neighborhood.”

  “Stuck how?”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Well, explain anyway. You want me to call the cops?”

  The word no was on the tip of my tongue, but Raf grabbed my phone and jumped down, walking away too fast for me to hear what he was saying. I watched him go over to the slide and sit on the end, his back to me as he talked to my sister.

  As I sighed, looking out over the neighborhood, I spotted a figure dressed in black making his way through the barricade of parked cars. His gait was familiar. Confident, but measured. His messy black hair needed to be swept off his forehead and he assessed the end of the cul-de-sac with cold emptiness.

  He kept walking. When he got to his house and saw my car in the driveway, he froze. His eyes shot to his house, saw that it was dark, and then he jogged up the steps of his neighbor’s house, knocking raucously on the door. Antony and Gabby bombarded him. But I could see Romeo’s lips moving and Antony’s answering, spilling all of the beans.

  Anger made his spine straighten. He wrangled his brother and sister inside his house, disappearing for what felt like forever. When he came back out, he was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a white shirt, eyes scouring the neighborhood.

  I wasn’t sure he’d spot me. It was dark. There were a lot of people hanging outside tonight. Eyes on each other, but senses on the end of the cul-de-sac. And at first, he didn’t see me. He looked everywhere; his eyes were laser sharp. My heart pounded. I sat still on top of the jungle gym, waiting for him to find me.

  And tell me his promises were ruined.

  I couldn’t handle that.

  Finally, after a few more minutes of his gaze analyzing the streets, he found me. We were a decent distance apart, but I still somehow managed to feel the heat of his gaze settle on mine.

  I saw his chest rise and fall.

  And then he pointed at me.

  I pointed at my chest. “Me?” I mouthed, looking around in hopes he was talking to someone else.

  Which we both knew wasn’t the case.

  He glared at me and crooked his finger, motioning for me to come to him.

  But I wasn’t his pet. I was a girl, who cared about him so much it freaking hurt. If he wanted to talk to me, he could come to me. I crossed my arms over my chest, my intentions clear.

  That only seemed to make the heat in his eyes burn hotter. He marched down his porch. Across the street. His bare feet crossed the grass, and then the sand, and finally he was in the tanbark, garnering the attention of almost everyone within eyeshot. He climbed up the jungle gym.

  “What are you doing?” I yelped.

  His arm came around my waist and he tugged me over his shoulder, landing on the tanbark below smoothly. I bounced on his shoulder, hanging down his back.

  “Raf still has my phone.” I spotted him lying on his back on the slide, eyes closed as his lips moved as he talked to my sister.

  Romeo didn’t respond, marching us both back through the sand, lawn, across the street, and up his porch. He didn’t set me down until we were in his house and the door was closed.

  I fixed my shirt from where it had ridden up, glaring at him. I tried to mean my glare. I really did. But there was a reason his eyes did things to me. They were so pretty, so rich. And so pissed I was scared to look into them anymore than normal.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, low and gravely.

  I frowned. “Why does your voice sound like that?”

  He gave me a weird look and then shook his head. “Answer me.”

  I stabbed at his chest with my finger. “You know why I’m here, jerk. Because we let each other in and then you took off.”

  He studied where my finger pressed into his chest. “I didn’t go anywhere, Ry—” he tried to say, and then coughed, like it hurt him to talk.

  “Are you sick?” He sounded awful.

  My question expunged the anger in his body. His shoulders sagged morosely, and he turned away from me. “You can’t leave, but I think you’ve probably established that. You can sleep in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” He walked down the hall, leaving me in the living room. I heard him saying something to his brother and sister and then a second later, I heard the shower turn on. “Call me if you need help,” I heard his rough voice say before he returned, avoiding eye contact with me. “Sit down, Rya.”

  I took a seat on his sofa. “Whatever you’re eating, I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing.”

  He looked at me over the kitchen bar. Held my eyes for just long enough to make me want more, then nodded, turning away.

  Not knowing what to do with myself, I took my sneakers off and tucked my legs under me. His house reminded me of mine. Warm and tiny, but still somehow home.

  Romeo came over with two plates of food. He handed me one and then sank onto the couch beside me, turning the TV on. He put his feet up on the coffee table and bit into his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He chewed and chewed, and every time he swallowed, he cringed. I couldn’t stop watching him struggle. Couldn’t help myself from letting out a little sound as I realized why his throat hurt. There were long bruises wrapped around his throat.

  Like someone choked him.

  I froze. “Is that why you’ve stayed away? So that I wouldn’t know someone hurt you?”

  He didn’t say anything, but his hand shook bringing his sandwich to his mouth and there was a pained sheen in his eyes. I felt the strangest sensation enter me. It started at my toes and didn’t stop until it had overtaken my heart. I set my plate down on the coffee table. I grabbed his plate from his hand and gently pried his sandwich from his grip, putting it on his plate.

  I moved to straddle his lap and then I hugged him to me as hard as I could.

  Romeo was strong. I already knew that. But no one, strong or not, should have to put up with being abused.

  Maybe he knew that. Maybe he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He let go of a strangled groan and hugged me as hard as I hugged him. I pressed my face into his hair, trying with all my might to encompass him.

  “Who did this to you?” I kissed the top of his head. “Romeo, talk to me.”

  Instead, he squeezed me to his chest.

  From the back of the house came a shrill cry. “I got soap in my eye!” Gabby bellowed. “Romey! It’s burning. I’m going blind!”

  A deep sigh fell from his mouth. He gently pulled back, looking at my chin as he bellowed back. Or tried to. The moment he attempted to shout, he closed his eyes in pain and tried to swallow.

  “I’ll help her.” I unwrapped myself from him and stood up on wobbly legs, my soul still curled up on his lap.

  Gabby was blindly trying to find the shower nozzle, which was hanging down. I grabbed it up and washed her face off.

  “Can I get out?” she asked.

  “Uh… did you wash your hair?” She nodded. “Did y
ou get your smelly pits?” She giggled, giving me another nod. “I don’t see why not.”

  She held her arms open. I scrambled, searching for a towel. There were two. One with a pink character all over it and a blue one with much of the same. I grabbed the pink one and wrapped her in it, carrying her damp body into the living room. Romeo didn’t speak as he began drying her hair.

  “Is Ant next?”

  Romeo nodded, looking at his hands.

  Getting Antony to shower wasn’t what I would call a fun task. He was smart and he had rebuttals, but I was ill-equipped for his supreme argument and frankly uncaring.

  “Listen, kid. Get your butt in that shower or I’m going to tell you how your book ends.”

  His mouth snapped open. He smacked his hands over his ears. “Don’t tell me!”

  “Then get in the shower.”

  Getting him out was easy.

  I brought him out wrapped in his blue towel, but the living room was empty. In their room, I found Romeo brushing her hair. She was quiet as he combed through her now towel dried hair, her pajamas the color of pink cotton candy. He was so tender and loving with them. I wanted to watch him brother forever, but Antony was dripping all over me. “Ready for him?”

  Gabby broke free and jumped on her bed. “Can we have a story tonight?”

  “No,” Romeo replied, voice raw.

  “I’ll read them one,” I offered.

  Romeo shrugged half-heartedly.

  Gabby helped pick the book she wanted, and Romeo got up, turning off the bedroom light; in the corner of the room was a night light showing an array of colors. I read until both kid’s eyes were drooping, and then I read some more until they were snoring. I pulled their door shut and came back out. Romeo was fixing his bed on the couch, tucking a pillow on one end.

  “Thank you for helping with them,” he said, still not looking at me.

  “Romeo, we need to talk.”

  He turned around, finally meeting my eyes. “I can’t, Rya. Not yesterday. Not the day before. Not today. Not even tomorrow. I can’t talk, Angel. I can’t.”

  I swallowed hard. “Okay. Calm down. We don’t have to talk. But you don’t have to suffer alone, either.” I sensed that if I pushed him, I might not like the consequences. I approached him slowly, touching my hands to his waist. “You’re not alone with me.”

  He closed his eyes. “Rya. Don’t.”

  But he didn’t pull away. Because deep down Romeo didn’t want to be alone. I knew I didn’t. I knew that around him it was the only time I belonged. I hoped he felt the same. Maybe I wasn’t making myself clear enough.

  I pressed my body close to his, hugging him around his waistline and resting my chin against his chest. “Open your eyes.”

  He did so, slowly, until the rich, mesmerizing color was perfectly visible.

  “We don’t have to talk. Even though I wish you didn’t seal yourself up. And as long as you know that when you are ready you can talk to me, I guess I’m okay with that. But I’m not okay knowing you’re suffering.” I tried with all my might not to let the burn in my eyes loose, but they filled anyway; the only good that came from those tears was the fact that it blocked me from fully seeing the gleam filling his. “I don’t want you to hurt. I want you to be happy and free of this awful city and this awful violence. But even with all of that, I’m here, aren’t I? I’m here, Romeo. Always.”

  His forehead came to rest against mine. His warm, labored breathing brushed over my lips. My breathing met his, and though no one could see, they created a whirlwind, sweeping us both up.

  His lips came down on mine. He didn’t respond with words. He responded with a kiss I hadn’t been expecting. I was completely his in a moment. Lost to the warmth and softness of his lips. His hands gripped my waist, urging me tightly against his body. I sighed in response, my lips parting; his tongue entered me immediately, sweeping over mine.

  I thought I understood desire. It seemed like a pretty simple concept. To want beyond control. I’d desired things before in my life. But those were simple concepts. Romeo’s kiss wasn’t simple. It didn’t unleash a simple want in me. It set free a part of me I didn’t even know existed. A part of me so deeply starving, I wondered how I ever lived. A part of me so bravely confident, I wondered how I lasted so long not knowing that side of myself.

  But what truly lit me on fire was the feeling that I had done the same to him.

  I couldn’t help myself. I slid my fingers in his hair, wanting to kiss him harder. I needed more.

  That was when he groaned.

  From deep, deep down.

  The sound hummed through my body, making parts of me shiver and other parts blaze.

  He pulled back suddenly, our whirlwind hovering between us. I wondered if my eyes were as shiny as his. If they were as hungry.

  When his eyes shot back to my lips, I had my answer.

  When I rose on my tiptoes to touch mine to his, he had his.

  The daze of his lips immediately took me back under. I could tell the truth right then. Let every single emotion I felt out. He could do the same. The more we showed, the more we wanted. His hands caressed my body and I barely acknowledged my back hitting the wall in the hallway.

  His hands slid down to grab my waist, hoisting me into his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist. Raf’s question entered my mind, somehow penetrating my fog. “Do you love him?” Is that what love felt like? Consuming, mind-altering fire? To burn, wonder, and feel all at the same time?

  If so, I was ablaze.

  Amazed.

  And overloaded with sensations.

  “Romeo.” His name fell from my lips. I didn’t recognize the sound of my voice. I hadn’t ever sounded so sure before, so breathy.

  So completely full of want.

  “Angel.”

  The sound of his voice did even better things to my body. He deepened our kiss, completely stealing my breath. I was aware I couldn’t breathe. Aware I didn’t care. Perfectly content that he could finally breathe just fine.

  “We need to stop. Right? Shouldn’t we? Stop.”

  I giggled drunkenly against his lips. “Which is it?”

  He smiled against mine. “Pick.”

  I risked opening my eyes, tumbling a little harder. My answer clear.

  “Right,” he said, taking a deep breath. “We should stop. Because I don’t want to. And you’re not ready to keep going.”

  “I’m not?” I asked stupidly.

  He tapped my thighs wrapped around his waist. “No, Angel, you’re not.”

  I unhinged my legs, a blush bleeding into my cheeks as I slid down his body and back to the floor. “How do you know?”

  He gave me a knowing, crooked smile. “All right. You want to keep going? We’ll keep going.” He pressed his lips to mine once more, kissing the freaking crap out of me.

  It felt good and scary and I completely understood what he meant. That kiss was a kiss that held a lot of expectations. It was the kind of kiss meant for darkness and no clothes. Something I wasn’t ready for.

  Not yet.

  I pulled away, breathing hard into the crook of his neck.

  “Not ready?”

  “Not ready,” I whispered, heat warming my cheeks and neck.

  His lips caressed my temple. “You’re always here?”

  “Always.”

  He then stepped away, fixing his crotch area.

  My eyes shot to the ceiling when I realized why.

  He chuckled, taking my hand and leading me away from the hall and back into the living room.

  We both resumed eating.

  Like he hadn’t just kissed the hell out of me.

  It was hard to sit still, to chew, to forget I was hungry for something other than food. He’d clouded my brain and I was trying to see through the misleading puffy clouds. They were soft and hard, and I was so high up I never wanted down.

  When we were done, he put the plates in the kitchen and then stood there, scrubbing his hand over his
face. “I’m tired.”

  I rubbed my hands over his sofa nervously. “Me too, actually. It’s been hard sleeping.”

  I could see questions in his eyes, but I also saw exhaustion and warmth in them. He had so much trapped in his head he wasn’t letting loose. He turned for the back of his house without saying anything. Assuming I should follow, I did. The last time I’d been in his bedroom, I’d been terrified, and my mind was elsewhere.

  My mind was firmly rooted in reality now.

  “You want to change?” he asked, looking at my jean shorts.

  “Please.”

  He pointed at his dresser. “Wear whatever you want. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything else.” Before he left, he paused, giving me a long, hard look. “Thank you, Rya.”

  What for? I ached to ask, but he was gone before I could, leaving me alone in his room.

  I toed off my shoes, covered in grass stains. I took my shirt off and shorts, padding barefoot over to his dresser. His top drawer was socks and boxer briefs. I slammed it shut and moved on to the next drawer, finding neatly folded t-shirts. I picked a white one at random, pulling it on over my head. I was immediately engulfed in the smell of fabric softener and Romeo. Fresh pine and crisp air. In the subsequent drawer, I pulled out a pair of gray sweats, and tied them tight around my waist.

  I turned his light off and got into his bed, overcome with loneliness.

  It could have been anything. Logically, I knew that I felt like something was missing because I wasn’t at home in my own bed. But lately, I’d felt lonely there too. Incomplete. And it was making it exceedingly difficult to sleep.

  I turned on my side, finding that his pillow smelled thickly of him. The scent curled my toes in his black sheets. I didn’t even mind how weird I must look sniffing his pillow like a freak. Not when he smelled so freaking good.

  It was a little past midnight when I couldn’t take it anymore. I blindly searched for the door, tiptoeing through his quiet house and into the living room. He was lying on his back on the couch, legs too long to fit; they dangled over the side, crossed over his ankles. His eyes were open, and he stared at the ceiling, lost to his thoughts.

 

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