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As I held the security door wide for Halo, he walked forward and then stopped before entering and said, “Thanks, David.”
“Having fun with that?”
“Mhmm. Although, I have to admit, you definitely seem more like a Viper to me.”
“Is that right?” We stepped inside and shrugged out of our jackets. I hung them on the hook in the foyer.
“Yeah. David seems too, I don’t know, normal for you.”
“And I’m not normal?”
Halo grinned, and it took every ounce of self-restraint I possessed not to grab him and kiss him. “No way. You’re—”
“Careful,” I said, and the expression in Halo’s eyes went from mischievous to something much deeper in a split second.
“I think you’re extraordinary.”
I couldn’t move. I could barely even breathe as I stared into a face I now knew by heart. And as we stood there in my mom’s foyer, I realized what a monumentally stupid move it had been for me to bring the angel here.
What had I been thinking? But I already knew the answer to that. I hadn’t been thinking. Not now. Not in Florida. It seemed I’d given up using my brain from the moment Halo walked in and auditioned for us months ago, and now I was neck deep in something I didn’t completely understand. Something that had the potential to blow up in all our faces if Halo didn’t stop looking at me and thinking of me as extraordinary.
No matter how much I liked it.
Thirty-Six
Halo
“DAVID TELLS ME your mother is Cheryl Olsen. She’s such a lovely, talented musician. You must be so proud.” Wendy smiled at me as she spooned another serving of some kind of sausage, peppers, and onions potato bake onto my plate. She was the ultimate hostess, refilling drinks and food before you could do it yourself, and though I was stuffed, I’d finish this off too. I wouldn’t risk being rude in front of Viper’s mom.
I thanked her and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“And you’re quite the musician as well. I’ve heard nothing but praises from David since you came along.”
“Oh really?” I raised an eyebrow in Viper’s direction, but his eyes were focused on his plate and he didn’t respond.
“Yes, nothing but ‘Angel this’ and ‘Angel that.’ I was wondering if I’d ever get a chance to meet you. You’ve certainly made an impression on my boy.” Wendy reached over and squeezed Viper’s arm, and he finally looked up, giving her a tight smile.
What was going on with him? Ever since we’d sat down, he’d barely looked my way, and he’d had even less to say, only giving short, clipped answers whenever his mom addressed him. Had I done something to piss him off? Or maybe now that I was here, he was regretting inviting me over.
I scooped another mouthful of his mom’s bake and tried not to let the change in Viper’s mood bother me. But it seemed I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
“You’re so quiet tonight,” Wendy said, giving Viper’s arm another squeeze before pulling her hand away. “Is everything all right?”
“Mhmm.”
That was all he managed, and as Wendy looked my way, I forced a smile. “This is delicious, Ms. Neil.”
“It was nothing,” she said, but she beamed and reached for the serving spoon again. “Can I get you more?”
“Oh, no—thank you, though. If I eat another bite, you’ll have to roll me outta here.”
“Well, hopefully you boys saved room for dessert. I made David’s favorite, tres leches cake.”
That should’ve gotten a response out of Viper, but his mouth stayed stubbornly shut, and I wondered again what the hell was going on.
Wanting to steal a couple of minutes alone, I told Wendy, “Tres leches cake sounds amazing.”
“Let me go grab it out of the fridge and get some clean plates,” she said, already pushing away from the table to rush into the kitchen. When she was out of earshot, I turned my attention to Viper.
“Hey.” When that didn’t get a response, I kicked him under the table, and his head shot up. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothin’.”
“We both know that’s not true. Did something happen?”
Viper’s black eyes didn’t hold the fire behind them that they usually did when he looked at me, and the blankness in them now made my stomach turn. I wasn’t sure I wanted an answer after all, but I swallowed and asked anyway.
“Is it me?” I said. “Do you want me to go?”
“Course not.” His gaze shifted toward the kitchen. “There’s cake.”
Another non-answer, and he was starting to piss me off. “You’re acting like a real dick, you know that?”
“Nothin’ unusual there.”
“That is fucking unusual. You don’t act like this with—” I almost said me, but Viper’s eyes cut to mine.
“With you?” The way he said it sounded like an insult. Like it was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard, and that felt like a punch in the gut.
