Page 72 of Angel I Am Not

Ariuk

Luc had decided we needed to leave the apartment.

Apparently several days of newly bonded demons crawling all over each other had reached the point where going somewhere without a bed, couch, shower, counter, or conveniently sturdy wall was necessary for everyone’s sanity. I wasn’t entirely convinced a restaurant would fix anything, considering Nick had kept one hand on my thigh for most of the drive and Zel had moved into the booth beside me after approximately four minutes of sitting across the table.

The heat hadn’t disappeared just because we put on clothes. If anything, having to behave made me notice it more. Nick’s eyes kept dropping to my mouth whenever I took a drink. Zel’s palm had been rubbing slow circles over my lower back since we sat down, and Luc had already brushed his fingers over mine enough times that I was starting to think it wasn’t accidental.

None of it felt like the frantic mess from those first hours anymore, though. The want was still there, sharp enough that I could easily imagine crawling into one of their laps, but something softer had tangled itself underneath. They touched me when nobody was trying to fuck. They noticed when I went quiet. They kept me close because apparently having me nearby made something in all four of us settle.

That part was harder to deal with.

I pushed noodles around my plate while Zel leaned over to kiss my temple. “Eat, Angel.”

“I am eating.”

“You’ve moved the same noodle six times.”

Nick snorted beside me and nudged my drink closer before I could reach for it. He had ordered it without asking, which should not have affected me as much as it did. Somewhere along the way, Wrath had started building a mental file on everything I liked—drinks, foods, television shows, colors, snacks, even the fact that I hated the floral soap in Luc’s bathroom. The offensive bottle had disappeared that morning without Nick ever acknowledging it.

I looked at him. “You replaced the soap.”

His fork paused halfway to his mouth. “What soap?”

“The flower shit.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“You are such a terrible liar,” I threw back at him, though some part of me really enjoyed them noticing. Domiel never noticed shit and the other angels never cared about anything when it came to me.

Luc had been watching me from across the table for the last few minutes, his attention lingering every time I pushed food around instead of actually eating it. Eventually he set his fork down. “Ari, what’s going on?”

I looked up at him. “Nothing.”

His expression softened instead of letting me get away with it. “You’ve barely said anything since we got here.”

Zel’s hand continued moving slowly over my back while Nick went quiet beside me. Neither of them pushed, but I could feel all three waiting, and after another few seconds I gave up pretending I could hide inside my plate.

“I thought we were the good guys.” I set my fork down and rubbed my thumb along the edge of the table. “I knew Heaven wasn’t perfect. I’m not stupid. But there’s imperfect, and then there’s realizing half the things you were taught about everyone else might be complete bullshit.”

Luc leaned forward slightly, his eyes staying on mine. “Because of what you’ve learned about us?”

“I spent my whole life hearing that demons would corrupt me. That you were selfish and violent and incapable of anything that wasn’t some twisted version of desire.” My throat tightened, and I hated it enough that I reached for my drink just to have something to do with my hands. “Then I get down here and Nick remembers what I drink after hearing it once. Zel knows I’m spiraling before I do. You keep feeding everyone like we’ll die if you don’t personally supervise dinner.”

Luc frowned around a mouthful of pasta, chewing before he answered. “You skipped lunch yesterday.”

“That is not the point.”

“It matters to me.” He reached for another piece of bread and tore it in half, still watching me while he ate like apparently worrying about me wasn’t going to stop him from stuffing his face at the same time. “You’ve barely eaten today either.”

Nick shifted closer beside me and rested his forearm along the back of the booth, his fingers brushing absently against my shoulder whenever he moved. Zel stayed pressed along my other side, one large hand moving slowly over my lower back while the other stole pieces of garlic bread from the basket between us. Their attention kept circling back to me even while they ate, the constant contact so natural now that I barely noticed until I tried to imagine Miel ever doing the same thing.

My throat tightened. “Miel never did any of this.”

Zel’s hand slowed against my back, and Nick stopped reaching for his drink. Luc lowered his fork to his plate, his expression changing as he waited for me to keep going.

“We were together because that was what we were supposed to do,” I said. “We paired off, we had sex, we showed up where we were expected, and I thought that was what love looked like because nobody ever showed me anything else.” I looked down at Nick’s hand where it had settled over mine on the table, his thumb moving once across my knuckles. “He never remembered little things because they mattered to me. He never noticed when I was overwhelmed. He definitely never sat across from me making sure I ate.”

Luc leaned back slightly, one hand still wrapped around his fork. “Some of what’s happening with us is probably the bonds.”