Chapter Eight
Angel felt her bruised lips as she stared at the closed door. Ethan’s kiss had left her breathless, weak-kneed, elated, and confused. Her heart continued to race when she, at last, did as Ethan had bade and locked the door behind him. Then, on shaky legs, she headed into the bathroom. She studied her reflection. Her lips were red and swollen. She had never imagined a kiss could be so intense. His hands had been so strong, gentle but insistent. His tongue had stroked hers again and again, stealing her breath, her strength. A sweet ache held her body captive. She closed her eyes, wishing he was there, wishing he was slowly stripping her clothing off, piece by piece, and kissing her from head to toe.
“Oh my God,” she whispered as she turned and splashed cold water on her face. When she looked again at her reflection, she caught sight of the angry bruise marring her cheek, and the horror of last night’s attack came crashing down on her. Her mind raced, spinning out of control as images of cruel eyes and mauling hands combined with the remains of her yearning for Ethan.
To calm down, she had a bath, then picked at some lunch. Still, her head pounded. She tried watching TV, but her mind continued to race. She laid down, not thinking she would be able to sleep. But after a while she dozed off, and when she awoke, her apartment was shrouded by darkness. Stretching, she glanced at the clock. “Oh no!”
It was 1:45 in the morning. She rushed from bed and pulled on a clean work shirt and jeans. Then she brushed out her hair, letting it fall unbound down her back, and quickly ran a mascara wand over her lashes. A few minutes later, a soft rapping sounded on her door. She glanced at the clock. It was exactly 2AM.
She took a deep breath and opened the door. Ethan greeted her with a devastating smile. In one hand, he held a cherry red helmet and, in the other, a small, black leather jacket. He set the helmet on the floor and held open the jacket for her. Unable to resist, she reached out and touched the fine leather, which felt as if it might melt beneath her fingers like soft butter. “It’s beautiful, Ethan, but I can’t accept it. It’s too much.”
He stepped closer, so close he stole her breath. “Your safety matters.”
Her legs went weak as he helped her into the thick jacket. It fit perfectly. She turned about to face him. He gently cupped her cheek and pressed a slow, soft kiss to her lips.
Her breathing quickened. He smiled down at her when he pulled away. “Let’s get you to work.”
She swallowed hard as his strong hand encircled hers. He led her out the door. Together, they rode into the city with the autumn moon high in the night sky and longing coursing through her veins.
∞∞∞
“Wicked man candy,” Matty said, peering through Bake Off’s storefront window at Ethan riding off down the narrow North End street. Matty whirled around and looked at her with demanding eyes. “Who was that?”
Angel felt her skin warm as she pretended to be very preoccupied tying her apron. “His name is Ethan, and I told him you would drive me home after my shift. Will you?”
“Of course. Now, answer me already. I can’t handle the suspense. Who’s Ethan?”
She shrugged. “He’s a friend.”
Matty crossed his arms over his chest. “Angel Sullivan don’t you dare bullshit me. Who was that god?”
She began refilling the cinnamon dispenser, still refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’m not bullshitting you, Matty. Ethan’s a friend.”
“Angel, you and me—we’re friends. Do you know how I know that?”
She shook her head, biting at her cheek to keep from smiling and revealing all the hope building within her that was ready to burst out in a fireworks-display of emotion.
“I saw him kiss you just now. You and me—we don’t kiss like that.”
Unable to hold it back, her smile spread wide. “No, we don’t.” Then her hands flew to cover her face.
“Holy shit! Hell has actually frozen over. Angel, you’ve got the hots for a guy.”
She felt him tug on her hands.
“Come on. Confess. I want details.”
“I can’t,” she pleaded.
Finally, Matty yanked her hands away from her face. She had no choice but to look at him dead on, but Matty’s smile faltered. He reached up and touched her bruised cheek. In a flash, his countenance changed. Matty was a total queen, but he was also a strong and protective man. “Did he do this to you?” He stormed toward the door, clearly intent to see if he could still catch Ethan before he drove off.
Her eyes widened. “No, Matty. It wasn’t him. Ethan saved me.”
He stopped and turned, crossing his arms over his chest. “You have two minutes to convince me that your new man is not a raging, misogynistic asshole.”
Angel confessed all. She told Matty about Ethan first approaching her on the Zakim, about her car being a goner, and how Ethan saved her from being raped and beaten, maybe even killed the night before.
“So, he’s attempted to rescue you twice, then totally saved your life last night?”
“That about sums it up,” she said, plugging in the largest mixer. “Did the shipment of flour come in?” Being the center of attention always made her feel uncomfortable.
“No way,” Matty said, yanking the plug out of the wall. “We’re not done here. You have to tell me if you’re going to let him be the first?”
Angel refused to look at her friend. “Come on, Matty. We’ve got buns to get in the oven.”
“Oh, that reminds me. You know about condoms, right?”
She laughed and threw a handful of flour at him. “Don’t start, Matty.”