Angel Series Books #1-2.5

by Tracy Lorraine

  “I went to see Hannah on the way home and tell her about everything. A couple of tears just slipped out,” I explain, hoping he understands and moves on.

  “I get it, I actually went earlier myself. Right, come on, let’s get going.” With that, Ryan leans in, kisses my forehead, grabs my stuff and places it in my room. He gets hold of the last box and heads upstairs. “I’ll be ready in fifteen,” he says as he disappears.

  I stand in the middle of my new room looking around. I’m so grateful Ryan and I seem to be on the same page for most things. I was dreading him asking me about my visit to Hannah, but he just gets it, so much so that he went as well. I wonder how similar his conversation was to mine.

  Ryan finds me a little over ten minutes later sat crossed legged in the middle of my room, with a stack of home magazines in my lap. “What?” I ask when I see him start to laugh.

  “I just didn’t think you’d take this whole decorating thing so seriously!”

  “I want it to be perfect. I’m thinking shabby chic.”

  “I’m sorry, shabby what?” he asks, confused.

  “Shabby chic. It’s a style. Sort of old fashioned, soft pastel colours and really homely. Here look, like this,” I get up and show him the page I was looking at.

  “Right, okay. Come on Miss Molly, get your shoes on and let’s get this over and done with.”

  Thirty minutes later, we are pulling up in Ryan’s car to the flat I shared with dickhead Max, as he is now seemingly called. His car is here but all the lights are off. “Oh God, I hope he’s not at it again,” I muse quietly.

  “If he is, then by the time I’ve finished with him he won’t be able to do it again,” Ryan growls from the driver’s seat. I love having someone who will stand up for me like that. Max never did it, ever.

  With a squeeze of my thigh, Ryan jumps out the car, grabs my suitcases in one hand and my hand in the other as he pulls me towards the flat. He must be able to feel my hand shaking because he reassures me that it will be okay.

  We’ve been at the flat just over an hour, and we have all the rooms but the kitchen cleared of my things. I’m double checking everything when I hear a crash in the kitchen. I go running in to find Ryan standing there with a murderous look on his face, and a hole in the plasterboard. “What the fuck happened?” I question.

  “Sorry, it just made me so fucking mad.”

  “What did?”

  “This…” Ryan passes me over a note.

  Molly,

  Where the fuck are you?

  There is no food in the house and everything needs cleaning.

  Hurry up and get it fucking done, I don’t work all night to come home to a shithole.

  Max

  “Oh.” Tears start to well in my eyes. If I ever needed proof that Max didn’t love me, then here it is. Apparently, I was just his housekeeper.

  “Molly, come here,” Ryan says as he pulls me into his arms. I try to hold it together, but the truth hurts, and I sob into his chest. Again.

  After we finished packing my cooking stuff, we leave the flat. I was confident that we had everything, although Ryan looked a little unsure, as there were only two suitcases and three boxes.

  “I thought you loved shopping?” he asked me as we left. “How come you only have this much stuff?”

  This meant I had to begrudgingly explain that Max only allowed me so much space in the flat, and if I filled it I either didn’t buy anything new or I had to get rid of something. I hadn’t been shopping in ages, which was why it was one of the first things I did today. I can take up as much of my own space as I want with clothes, shoes, makeup and other crap, and I can’t wait.

  We drove home in silence after my admission. I could tell by how tight Ryan was holding the steering wheel that he was angry; he hadn’t really recovered from the note before I added more fuel to his fire. He did manage to convince me to leave a note of my own, which I did. It basically said something to the effect of, ‘I’ve left you, you cheating dickhead. You’ll have to do your own cooking and cleaning from now on. Fuck off out of my life and never contact me again’. Some might say it was petty, but it made me feel a bit better.

  It was nearly ten o’clock by the time we arrived home with our curry. He told me to go and get it all set up in the kitchen while he got my stuff into my room.

  We ate with both of us lost in our own thoughts. Not much was said, but it was a comfortable silence. I do wish I could read his mind, though. I have a feeling whatever was going on behind those bright blues of his was about me because he kept looking up at me.

  After we finished and cleaned up, I told him I was going to sort through my stuff, have a bath in my new roll top bath and that I would sleep on the sofa tonight. To my surprise, he didn’t argue. He just said goodnight and kissed me on the cheek as he headed up to his own room, leaving me totally confused by his sudden distance.

  Chapter Four

  Ryan

  I hear a moan behind me and turn around. I almost can’t believe what I’m seeing. It’s Molly but, fucking hell, she looks like every man’s wet dream. She’s had her hair coloured back to her natural rich brown, and cut so it rests just on top of her breasts. She is wearing a blouse that is unbuttoned enough so I get a cheeky peek of her cleavage and her legs and arse are shown off nicely in a pair of skin-tight dark jeans. And the shoes, fuck me, the shoes are so sexy. When I eventually meet her eyes, her normal chocolate colour is almost black, and the way she is looking at my half exposed body makes me think she wants to run her tongue over every line and muscle. I’m instantly hard.

  “Molly,” My voice comes out as a groan as I make my way to stand in front of her. In her high heels, the top of her head comes in line with my chin, not to the middle of my chest like normal. She is staring straight into my eyes and I can’t help but think that she wants this as much as I do. I watch as she slowly leans her head to the side and moves forward until her lips softly brush mine. I feel my dick twitch in response to her simple touch.

  Then it’s as if our control snaps at the same time, because all of sudden our mouths crash together and our tongues touch for the first time. Her hands thread through my hair as mine go to her arse to pull her body up against mine. I hear her moan as I run my hands up her sides and gently brush the underside of her breasts, causing her to suck on my tongue. God, how I want her to do that to something else. My mouth leaves hers as I trail kisses across her jaw and down her neck.

  “Ryan,” I hear her whisper. My hands go to unbutton her blouse as I suck on her earlobe. I’m dying to get a taste of her nipples.

  “Ryan,” I hear her groan again as I slip her blouse off and my hands go to her back to release her bra. “Ryan,” she’s getting louder now, and her chest is rising and falling in excitement.

  “Oh, Molly.” I slide the straps over her shoulders, preparing myself for what’s to come. I’m so turned on, I don’t want to cum in my pants like a teenager at just the sight of her perfect tits.

  “Ryan.” My eyes travel from her eyes down to her exposed – “Ryan,” she shouts this time. I suddenly feel my head snap up and my eyes begrudgingly open.

  Fuck, it was a dream.

  I look towards my bedroom door and see Molly stood there smiling at me.

  “Having a good dream, were we?” she asks with a knowing smirk.

  “Shit,” I say under my breath but from the raised eyebrow I get from her I guess she heard.

  “Breakfast will be ready in fifteen, so get up,” she says as she turns to leave. Just before she disappears from my sight she looks back and says, “I’d have a cold shower if I were you!”

  “Ugh,” I groan as I look at myself. I’m completely out from under the covers, my boxer briefs barely containing my very obvious excitement, and I’m covered in a sheen of sweat.

  “Fuck,” I mutter as I drag my body out of bed to follow Molly’s advice. I wonder as I brush my teeth, do I need to buy a lock for my bedroom door, or is it time I got myself laid? That m
ust be it; I wouldn’t be thinking about my best friend like that if I were getting some.

  I felt bad about letting her sleep on the sofa last night, but I wasn’t feeling like I could sleep in the same bed as her and trust myself not to do anything I shouldn’t. The emotions that were flowing around my body after everything I learnt at her old flat had me feeling things I really shouldn’t be. Just like the dream I’m still trying to get over.

  To my relief, Molly doesn’t say anything about my wake-up call when I meet her in the kitchen.

  “Smells amazing,” I comment as I sit at the breakfast bar next to my waiting coffee. She passes over a plate with toast, scrambled egg and bacon on.

  “Feeling better?” she questions. She has her focus on filling her plate, not on me, which I am relieved about because I know she would be smirking at me. I’m embarrassed enough; let’s move on.

  “Much. This is great, thank you. So, I told my mate we would pick his van up sometime before ten,” I say trying to change the topic of conversation. It’s only now I take notice of Molly. Her hair is still wet and her face is makeup free. As she steps around the breakfast bar, I notice she is wearing the shortest denim shorts I think I have ever seen, showing off her amazing legs. I am instantly in almost as bad a state as I was when I woke up at the sight. She has on a white tank top that is low enough to show the swell of her breasts, and a pale yellow cardigan. It’s simple but seriously fucking hot. I think I’ve got a problem and it needs fixing before I do something stupid.

  “So, where are we actually going?” Molly questions as we pull off my mate’s drive in his van. It’s so big that I’m not hugely confident driving it, but it will fit everything in that we need to buy, so I’m just going to have to suck it up.

  “Milton Keynes.”

  “Why the hell are we going there? Aren’t there enough shops to pick from in Oxford?”

  “Yes, I guess there are, but there isn’t an IKEA,” I reply.

  “WHAT?” Molly shouts, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.

  “What, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I’ve always wanted to go to IKEA,” she replies. looking at me with a beaming smile that goes all the way to her eyes.

  “You’ve never been?” I ask, laughing at her reaction to the news.

  “No. I’ve always wanted to go; I always hear people talking about it. It sounds awesome. I’m so excited!”

  “You never cease to amaze me, Molls.” She looks over at me and raises an eyebrow, prompting me to explain. “You have grown up with enough money around you to have anything you could possibly want, but I take you somewhere as everyday as IKEA and you look like I’ve just made all your dreams come true.” And fuck me if I don’t love that look on her face right now. I promise myself to put it there as often as possible. I don’t really think anyone has bothered to before, and that makes me feel so sad for her.

  “Ry, you know I’m not into the whole money thing. I learnt from a young age that I’d rather have no money but loving friends and family around me.”

  “I do know that. You just take me by surprise with it sometimes. I used to get dragged around IKEA by my mum and little sisters at least four times a year when I was growing up. It just seems so normal to me.” I see her eyes fill with tears as she imagines what I’ve just said. “Molly, don’t do that. I want you to be happy. I promise you, you will have a family of your own like that one day. Today is meant to be a happy day.” I give her thigh a gentle squeeze to try to break her out of her daydream.

  “You’re right, today is happy. What was our motto? Live, laugh, love,” she says, reminding me of the pact we made together not so long ago.

  We arrive just under an hour later, just as the doors open by the looks of the customers streaming in. Molly spent the rest of the drive here listening to me explain how it all works. I never knew someone could have so many questions about one shop. She reminded me of a little girl, asking them all excitedly and bouncing up and down on her seat as we got closer. I couldn’t help but smile the whole way here. Today is definitely a happy day.

  It is now one o’clock and we have spent two hours going backwards and forwards around the showroom section while Molly to-and-froed over her choices. At last, we are sat in the café for lunch. I’m stood in the queue while watching Molly sat at a table going through the items on her list against the photos she has taken on her phone. She eventually decided on very pale grey furniture for her bedroom – very shabby chic, apparently!

  As I walk over to her with a plate of Swedish meatballs for us each, I can’t help but feel all warm inside from seeing just how happy she is. We still have the market place to go. I’m sure her head is going to explode before we get out of here!

  “Wow, they were so good. I need the recipe,” she comments, having not come up for air once during demolishing her food. I’ve never known a woman enjoy her food like Molly does, but still keep her amazing figure.

  “There is a little food hall by the exit. You can buy all the stuff to make them,” I state.

  “Really?” I nod in response “Wow, this place is awesome. Are you done?”

  “Yes, come on, let’s go,” I say as I clear the table.

  “Do you think we need a trolley?” Molly asks as we enter the market place.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I ask, laughing; there is no way we are getting out of here without a full trolley!

  “I’ll take your laughter as a yes, shall I?”

  We have a great time looking at everything. I pick up a few things for the house but I mostly just enjoy watching Molly take it all in. I’m sure the expression on her face is similar to a child’s in Disney Land.

  It’s almost three by the time I manage to get her away from the candles and into the section to find and pick up all her furniture. Our trolley is almost overflowing with all sorts of stuff, and I have nearly taken out about five people with the rug Molly chose for her room that is sticking out just at the right height for other shoppers’ heads.

  “We need to be quick, otherwise we’ll end up getting locked in,” I say as Molly leads the way with another empty trolley to put all the flat-packs on.

  “Ah, that would be awesome. It would be just like that film where they get locked in a department store. I’ve always wanted to do that! Oh, over here,” she says pointing down an aisle.

  “I’m going to go and take the van back.”

  We have been home three hours and we are in flat-pack hell. I have made her bed so at least she can have somewhere comfortable to sleep tonight, and she is just finishing her second bedside table. The two wardrobes, two chests of drawers, and bathroom cabinets are still leaning up against the wall in the hallway. The end is most definitely not in sight.

  “Okay, I’ll finish this one then go and make us some sandwiches for when you get back. Are you still set on getting all this done tonight?”

  “Yes! You will have a whole bedroom when you eventually get in that bed tonight.”

  “Okay, well hurry then, because I cannot do this alone.”

  Yes, I do need to get the van back so my mate can go to work tomorrow, but mostly I need to get away from the sight of Molly leant over a bedside cabinet wearing those shorts and with a screwdriver in her hand. Put it this way, I think I know what tonight’s dream will be about.

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I have never seen Molly in any way other than a platonic friend. Even the first night when we met and she practically threw herself at me, I was just not interested. Maybe it’s because that is how she first introduced herself. I’ve always gone for the quieter girls, the ones that wait to be asked out, not the ones that go after what they want. I guess also my type over the years has leant towards taller more athletic builds, whereas Molly is shorter and has some seriously sexy curves. We have spent a lot of time together over the past six months, and not once have I had any thoughts that I shouldn’t be having about her. I mean, yeah, I did have other things taking up my thoughts, but what ha
s changed so suddenly? She moved in two days ago, and all can think about is her body, being inside her and wanting to make her happy. I think I was right this morning. I seriously need to get laid.

  When I get back an hour later, she has both bedside tables in place and is moving the floor standing cabinet into the bathroom.

  “Wow, you didn’t hang around while I was gone,” I state, while watching her from the doorway.

  “I just can’t wait to see it all done. I haven’t done the sandwiches, though. I was just going to put this in place then go make them. I thought you’d be gone longer.”

  “I did consider staying for a beer and letting you get on with it but I didn’t think that was fair,” I explain as I start to open up the packaging for the wardrobes.

  I’m tacking the back of the first wardrobe on when Molly reappears with food and drink.

  “Picnic on the bed,” she says, nodding towards it.

  I finish what I’m doing, then go and sit opposite her with the plate between us. “I need to talk to you about something,” I say, grabbing my first sandwich.

  “You can’t kick me out already, the furniture isn’t all made yet!”

  “Very funny. Actually, we won’t be talking about it. I’ve got to tell you something.”

  “Okaaay, go on,” she’s says, starting to look nervous.

  “You know what Tuesday is, right?” I ask, but I know the answer. She nods, looking suddenly sad.

  “A couple of months ago, I booked to go away so I wouldn’t be home and miserable. Since I booked it, thanks to you and that counsellor you found, I feel totally different about it. I no longer want to disappear for a week and be lonely and miserable, I want to go and celebrate. Does that make sense?”

  “Of course it does, I totally get it. I want to celebrate her too. So, what are you telling me? That I’m home alone next week while you go away?”

  “No, I’m telling you that you are coming with me. I have already-”