Page 12 of His Angel

“You seem to have recovered pretty well,” I comment, attempting to change the direction of the conversation to safer waters. “No hangover in sight.”

“Taylor made sure I took painkillers and drank plenty of water before we went to bed, and then the same again this morning. He and Leo have been making sure I eat and whatever, looking after me and everyone else.”

I nod.

At least they’re looking out for her. Not that I’d expect anything different from Leo.

“I can see why you like him,” she continues. “Leo. Apart from those eyes, with that dark hair… yeah, he’s gorgeous, but he’s nice too.”

He is, but there’s something else going on with him too.

Something darker. Something more illicit.

“He is,” I agree. “He makes me feel safe, protected. All the things I could have done with during the early hours of this morning.”

Intentional.

It was all so intentional.

She rubs her hand comfortingly along the top of my foot, the gesture meaning more than she can imagine as I close my eyes.

“Did you get what you needed from Wyatt this afternoon?”

Good question. Did I?

I got an explanation all right. Not one that I like, but I’ve got one.

“I think so.”

“Good.” She nods, the tension in the room awkward in a way it never has been before. A divide there.

“Do you know that Taylor was in on it?”

She nods, sighing heavily.

“I don’t trust him,” I admit.

She’s my best friend, I can’t lie to her. And I know she wants him as her partner in this game, I’m just not sure that’s inherbest interests. An awkward silence stretches out in the room between us, something foreign sneaking in.

“Do you trustme?” she asks.

“Of course.”

Whilst these last few months have changed me in some of the weirdest ways, it doesn’t seem to have done the same to her, she’s still the same vivacious woman I’ve known for the majority of my life.

“Then trust I’ve got this. He’s the one for me.”

“Are you sure?” I ask with a raise of an eyebrow.

It’s her choice, not mine. I can’t and won’t attempt to tell her how to live her life. If she says this is it, then this is it.

“One hundred per cent.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes at the huge smile on her face, as if I was going to say anything else.

“Good, now you can help me plan our ceremony so that it’s something special.”Not what I had.

She pulls out a notebook, ferreting around in the drawers for a pack of pens as we huddle on my bed and make plans.

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