“You have an uncle?”

I follow Breckin into the house, and this time we stay on the main floor. He points to the stools sitting at the kitchen counter, telling me to have a seat as he raids the refrigerator. Seriously? He throws words like soul mate around, then drags me into his million-dollar kitchen and offers me a snack? How did this become my life?

Soul mate. My mind refuses to process his words. I’m numb.

“Sort of. We’re not related, but he’s the closest thing I have to family.”

“Is he the one who erased my memories Saturday night?”

A jar of nacho cheese slides across the pristine marble counter as he shuts the refrigerator. “Yeah.” He moves to a pantry the size of my bedroom and grabs a bag of chips.

“And what does he think of all this?” I prod, when he doesn’t elaborate.

“Chip?” He pops the lid from the jar, dipping a blue corn chip into the sauce.

“Breck?”

“Vivie?” His brow arches. I force back a reply at his flippant tone.

“What does your uncle think of this?” I wave a hand between us.

“You can ask him when he arrives.” He stretches across the counter and holds a chip out. “Eat.”

“Did you just order me to eat?” I bristle, taking the chip without thought.  

“Order is a strong word.” He dips another. “I asked.”

I cross my legs and square my shoulders, taking a breath. “You most certainly did not ask.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Are you mad at me for trying to make you eat something?”

The chip he handed me drops to the counter, the glob of fake cheese smearing yellow across the gorgeous white. “I’m mad at you for ignoring my questions and yes, for trying to make me eat.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“Oh my gosh. That is not the point, Breckin.”

My flustered outburst is met with a flirtatious grin. It takes all my willpower to remain across the four-foot kitchen island from him. This boy makes me crazy.

Exasperated, I lean back. “Do you always get what you want?”

“Yes.” There’s no shame in his answer. I clamp my jaw.

My weak soul dances at his cockiness as my independent mind theorizes ways to knock him off his high horse. As though he knows exactly what I’m thinking, he smiles and tilts his head, his amber-flecked eyes pinning me to my seat. His intense gaze sends heat creeping up my neck. I wipe my palms on my thighs as Breckin’s entire face transforms. A tight mask of concentration takes over as he straightens his back and breathes with precision—his chest rising and falling slowly.

Something teases across my mind, and I jerk back, gasping for air.

Breckin blinks, his face relaxing as a small scowl appears.

I grip the counter and watch him closely as the feeling withdraws. “What did you just do?”

His scowl deepens.

“What did you do, Breckin?” My stool clatters back as I stand. Fists form at my sides.

Breckin wipes at his forehead with a curse. “I’m sorry.”

He hurries around the counter, and I step back, unnerved by his actions. His face falls.

“Vivie?” Breckin lifts his hands in a silent plea for forgiveness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I was trying to use compulsion. I never—”

“Compulsion? To make me eat?” I spit the words at him.

“You argued with me.”

That’s his excuse? “I’m sorry? I argued with you?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, it is, but—” He scratches his head. “I wanted you to eat. You were arguing, and it made me wonder if I could—”

“Oh. My.” Swallowing, I groan and walk away, needing space. Halfway across the kitchen, I turn back. “You arrogant angel. You think you can order me to eat and sit and stay. That I won’t ask questions? Do you want me to blush and giggle while following you around like the other girls do?”

Breckin’s shoulders shake as his lips quirk.

“Are you laughing at me?” I ask, the urge to punch him strong.

His face goes blank.

“Don’t ever try it again, Breckin,” I order, nearly stomping my foot.

“I won’t. I promise. I would never try to control you, Vivie. I was curious if it were possible. Since erasing your mind didn’t work.”

“I mean it, never again. It’s horrible. Like spiders crawling around in my mind. Sebastian did it, too. I hate it.”

Breckin stiffens. “Sebastian was in your head? When?”

His tone kills my anger. “Saturday night. I don’t know if he was in my head, but it felt the same.”

He pulls his cell from his pocket, holding up a finger when I ask what he’s doing. Tugging on my sleeves, I fold my arms across my chest and wait.

“We need you.” His eyes stay on mine as he nods. “Nope. She remembers everything.” There’s a pause as he listens to the person on the other end of the line. “Okay. Yeah.” After a few vague, one-word answers, the call ends, and he sets his cell on the counter. “Can you stay for dinner?”

“If I say no, will you try to force me?”

He blows out his cheeks. “No, Viv. I’ll never try to compel you again.”

“Damn straight you won’t.” Breckin cracks a smile. “Of course I’ll stay. He’s coming?”

“He is, in about two hours.”

My pulse kicks up a notch, my nerves fluttering to life. Breckin pushes the stool I kicked back to the counter and comes toward me. His hand touches the bottom edge of my sweater, tugging it. I take a step toward him as he takes another toward me.

“I’m truly sorry.” His hand brushes my cheek as it wraps around my head. “I know this is a horrible excuse, but . . . everything feels different with you. It’s new territory. My curiosity got the best of me.”

I hook a finger through his belt loop and pull us closer still.

“Different how?” My voice is husky and broken. My soul, or whatever it is within me that seems to want him, flutters.

“I’ve compelled humans before, to forget what they saw, or to get what I want.” I frown, and he grimaces. “It’s easy with them. A touch or a look and a thought, and they do what I need. You don’t work that way. My abilities don’t work on you at all. It’s . . .”

“Freaking you out? Scaring you? Making you consider a mental institution?” I repeat his own words.

“Frustrating as hell,” he says with a short laugh. “And all of those other things. Hopefully, Elias will have answers.”

“Elias?” There’s one Elias in town that I know of. Elias Jamison, the owner of Havenwood Falls Ski-Ventures. Besides transporting thrill seekers up the mountains on ski runs, he does life-flights for the clinic. Mom has spoken of him a few times, but I rarely see him around town. He’s an angel?

“I can tell by your face you’re making the connection, and I’m sure you have questions, but I have a favor to ask.” Questions? Only about a million of them. Elias Jamison is an angel. I’ve never felt anything strange around him. I’ve never . . . unless my memories have been wiped before.

“Vivie.” Breckin’s finger tilts my chin. “You’re thinking way too hard.”

Counting to three, I inhale and release a deep breath. Breckin grins.

“Can we just chill for a bit? Have a snack and talk until he gets here? About normal things?” Breckin asks, with hope in his voice.

“About normal things?”

“Yeah. Like your favorite food, movies, and music. You know, the stuff people learn when they’re falling in love with each other.”

I stretch up on my toes. “I think I heard that somewhere before.”

Even at my tallest, my lips are nowhere near his. He presses a kiss to my forehead, understanding my hint. Well, somewhat understanding, since I wanted his lips on mine. Mildly placated, I drop to the flats of my feet. I must frown, because Breckin chuckles and hauls me into his body, his arms solid against my back as he lowers his head.

“I know your soul. I want to know the rest of you, Vivie. I want to know everything.”

The anticipation sends giddy sparks through my body. “Everything? That might take a while.”

Two inches from my lips, he pauses. “Then let’s start with the important things.”

I wet my lips. My body is a firecracker waiting for the fuse to reach the explosives. Everything tenses as a smile forms. “Easy. I’m wildly attracted, and attached, to an angel.”

A deep growl fills his chest, rumbling through his entire body as his eyes darken and arms tighten.

“Would you kiss me already?” I half ask, half order.

The explosives ignite.

* * *

We’ve moved to the basement, Breckin preferring the safety of being underground to the open windows of the main floor, when Elias arrives.

“He brought pizza.” Breckin smiles, giving my leg a tender squeeze before leaving me on the couch and moving to the kitchen. I rest my arms on the back of the couch, my gaze following him. “Enhanced smell,” he says at my dubious stare.

Enhanced smell, senses, vision, and hearing. He’s my own superhero. I track the noises above. It’s obvious from the way Elias parked in the garage and entered the house on his own that he is considered family. When his heavy steps hit the wood of the staircase, I stand and straighten my hair and sweater.

Breckin sends me a wink, I take a breath, the stairs creak, and then Elias appears.

Elias Jamison is what most would picture when thinking about a Colorado mountain man. He’s stout and burly. Half a foot shorter than Breckin’s six-two, he’s got the shape of a bodybuilder and the dark, wiry beard of an outdoorsman. He plops the boxes in his hand onto the counter and turns my way.

“Vivienne,” he says, with the type of gravelly voice rock stars envy. His bright blue eyes look me up and down.

I open my mouth, but did words come out? I try again. “I don’t remember you from Saturday. You were here, right? You erased my memory.” It’s not hello, but the questions have built up.

His full mouth cracks a smile. “Breckin told me you were a curious one.”

My gaze shifts to Breckin, who lifts his brows as if daring me to deny it.

“Well, you know. It’s not every day a girl comes under attack from reapers and falls for an angel.” I attempt a nonchalant shrug, but Elias’s black look freezes the humor on my lips.

“Falls for?” He glares at Breckin.

Oh. Oh, crap. I should have kept that to myself. It popped out, my lovesick heart and soul not seeing anything wrong with how I feel. Sebastian’s warning hits me. A son of angels in love with a human? They will kill you once they find out.

“It’s not his fault.” I hurry to the end of the counter, putting myself between them. “We’re not in love or anything. He’s—”

“Viv.” Breckin grabs my shoulder and pulls me into his side. “It’s fine. He wouldn’t hurt me. Or you.”

Elias’s gaze volleys between us, his face thoughtful. After a moment of tense silence, he wipes a hand across his face and through his hair, lifting his baseball cap, then replacing it before he finally releases a long exhale.

“Soul mates.”

Hearing the word from Elias’s mouth is confirmation. Breckin squeezes my shoulder.

“How do you know?” I ask, when neither of them speak.

“His pull toward you Friday night. The fact that neither of us could erase him from your memories. The look in his face. And yours.” Elias huffs a light laugh. “I’ve seen many teenage girls wear the same head-over-heels-in-love look, Vivienne. I’ve never seen it on Breckin.”

I have a head-over-heels-in-love look on my face? My cheeks warm. He does? I can’t help but glance up at Breckin.

“You’re right,” Breckin says, smiling down at me. “She’s totally falling head over heels in love with me.”

I punch him.