For Angelo(37)
Her jaw dropped. “That’s it?”
“If you want me to elaborate, there came a time the boy realized that the girl was only with him because she thought the other boy would hurt her more. So the boy forced her to leave him so she could give the other boy a chance. Eventually, the boy took the risk of telling her the truth about his uncle, and she forgave him, but by then it was too late for both of them. And so,” he finished, “the girl and the other boy lived happily—”
But Lane surprised him by shaking her head vehemently, and he broke off.
“That’s not it,” she protested. “Can’t you see?”
“No, I can’t see, actually.” He was genuinely perplexed. “What exactly do you want to hear?”
She sputtered, “T-this is supposed to be about the boy.”
“But it is—”
“No, it’s not, and if this were a real book, I’d have asked for a refund!”
Her ferocity made him smile, and he said soothingly, “Let’s add an epilogue then. The boy you’re talking about also lived happily ever after, on his own, because the girl’s words had freed him, and now he’s able to be himself.”
“That’s it?”
“Cue music.”
She made a face, but Angelo only laid his hands open in a typical Italian gesture of surrender. “It is what it is, tesoro.”
Lane’s brows furrowed. “Tell me this at least. Is the boy—” She swallowed. “Is the boy…still in love with the girl?”
His eyes bored through her. “You really think we’d be in the same bed if that were true?”
She winced at the look in his eyes, realizing that Angelo Valencia was more like a fairytale prince than a fallen angel, and right now she had just offended the fairytale prince’s sense of honor.
She flashed him a peace sign, saying in a small voice, “Sorry?”
“Forgiven, my Lane,” he said easily, “but I’ll add this to the list that I’ll have to punish you for.” Before she could protest, he checked his watch, asking, “Do you feel like going back to sleep?”
She shook her head, biting her lip hard.
He glanced at her, murmuring, “I can sense you holding back. What is it that you want to ask?”
“It’s not really a question, it’s more, like, a book review—”
“Tesoro.” Angelo sounded exasperated. “There’s not even an actual book to review.”
“But I still want to give my feedback,” she insisted.
“And you won’t be able to sleep until you say your piece,” he drawled. “Is that it?”
“More or less?”
“Then…” His hand moved languidly, the fairytale prince silently granting her the right to proceed.
She almost smiled at the thought but didn’t dare do so, knowing Angelo would kill her if he found out she thought of him like that.
Clearing her throat, Lane said, “First, I’m sorry that the boy was hurt, but I hope the boy doesn’t hate the girl for it.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Because,” she continued, “the girl just wanted someone who’s more than a prince. The way I see it, the girl only wanted someone who could love her enough to be true to her, because then she’d have the courage to be true to herself, too.”
“So you’re saying,” he said silkily, “it’s the boy’s fault he lost the girl?”
Oops.
“What I mean is,” she said quickly, “maybe the boy needs another girl.”
“Ah, this would be interesting. Would she be curvy perhaps?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And…mm…with hair and eyes the shade of caramel?”
She forgot her role for a second, mumbling, “Wow.” Angelo sure had a way with words. She had never heard her features described that way before.
“Am I right so far?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes.”
“So this other girl might be the one for the boy?”
“Uh huh.”
“Even if the boy made her cry?”
Oh.
“Because,” Angelo said tautly, “if the boy could turn back time, he would have—”
She cut him off, whispering, “Yes. Even if the boy made the other girl cry, she still thinks he’s the one for her.”
They stared at each other, Lane’s eyes not hiding anything even when everything Angelo felt remained buried.
He asked slowly, “The boy wants to ask something.”
“W-what is it?”
“Can the boy kiss her now?”
Oh. Her lips curved in a tremulous smile. “The girl says…”
He sucked in his breath.
“Her masochistic side likes it better when he doesn’t even bother to ask.” There was a rustle of movement and the next thing Lane knew, Angelo was looming over her, and she was trapped under his powerfully muscular body. In the blink of an eye, the bedroom that once felt too beautiful and too vast for her became nothing but a mist of faded colors, and the only vivid thing she could see was him.
Her fallen angel, who was a fairytale prince even as he insisted on seeing himself as a villain.