shoulder. She turned on him, her eyes blazing. “One minute you’re feeding me lines about seeing you in New York, and the next you act like you don’t even want me to touch you.”
Part of him wondered if it was just the depression, if this would be the moment it shifted, took over. You’re going to lose her. The thought dug in, even as he tried to push it away.
She yanked her hand away. “I need to know what’s going to happen when summer ends. I need to know if this is just a temporary thing for you.”
“Oh, God, Eden, no!” He reached for her hand again. This time she let him take it. “This isn’t ‘temporary’ for me. It never has been.”
Her eyes flicked away. “Because I love you,” she said. She swallowed hard. It was the first time she’d been so blatant. The same quicksilver happiness coated his insides, whisking away the dark thought, but his smile was because of her alone.
“I love you, too, Eden.” He wanted to say it again, loving the sound of her name paired with those words, knowing how true they were.
“Then what’s wrong? Tell me.” She squeezed his hand, leaning forward, tucking her head against his neck. He closed his eyes, knowing his fear would stain them yellow.
“Just…don’t freak out, okay?” He raised her from his shoulder, caught her gaze for a split second before he lifted his shirt over his head.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” she asked quietly. He didn’t answer, couldn’t look at her as he began slowly unwinding the ace bandage around his chest. “Az?”
“So, usually I get one of two reactions,” he said, his voice quaking. He pulled off all but the last loop of material and glanced up. “I blame the corsets for the fainters. They wore them so tight…couldn’t breathe right. But they’ve been out of style for centuries, so I think we’re good on that one.”
“Centuries?” Her voice had gone up an octave. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” she demanded.
“They turn yellow when I’m scared,” he said, keeping his voice as calm as he could manage.
“Scared?” She was still talking. So far, so good. But he knew what he showed her next would be enough to send any mortal over the edge. She’s different, he promised himself.
He dropped the last of the bandages. His cramped muscles begged to stretch but he did his best to hold them tight.
“Yeah, scared.” He climbed off the bed, backing away to the middle of the room. “The screaming I can handle. Being called a devil, a witch, a freak. No big deal. But what will happen to me if you decide you don’t love me anymore?”
“Az, you better tell me what you’re talking about because you are freaking me out.” She’d risen onto her knees, her hands held in front of her, eyes darting to the door and back. He didn’t dare move. “Az?”
He heard the fear in her voice, knew every moment he drew this out would make it worse. His head dropped as he forced himself to roll his shoulders, the wings uncurling from their cavity behind his rib cage. When he flexed them out, all fourteen feet of the atrocious things spanned the room. Joints at odd angles, so they folded in like a pterodactyl, feathers layered across the skin. Nothing about them was beautiful. They were a punishment.
“I’m a fucking angel, Eden.” A feathered tip brushed the TV stand, knocking an open can of soda to the carpet. Her silence was worse than any screaming.
He closed his eyes, trying to keep calm, keep under control. His cell phone was in his pocket. If things went bad, if he felt tempted to Fall, one phone call and Gabriel could get there in seconds.
An unsure giggle broke from the bed, building into a laugh. His eyes shot up, found her doubled over on the covers. His wings lifted, the feathers rustling quietly in his confusion.
“So lame!” She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes, trying to get her giggling under control. “And you owe me a Coke, too!” she said, pointing to the can, the liquid soaking into the carpet.
He opened his mouth, but when nothing came out she hopped off the bed, crossing the room to him. Az stared at her, not sure what to say.
“Did Gabe put you up to this?” she asked. She rolled her eyes as her fingers traced one of the feathers. “He’s that pissed that I kicked his ass in skeeball?