The hardwood floor creaks beneath my feet as I walk to the living room. My mom sits there, her knitting needles clicking rhythmically.
“Mom,” I start, and she looks up with those knowing eyes.
“Yes, honey?”
“I’ve been thinking about the job offer and what I should do... I need to borrow your car.”
She sets her knitting aside, studying me with a tilt of her head. “Where are you going in this nasty weather?”
“Angel.” My voice is more confident than I feel.
A smile plays on her lips as she reaches into her purse beside her chair and tosses me the keys. “Good luck... And be careful.”
I nod, clutching the keys like a lifeline. With each step toward the door, determination builds within me. No more waiting for someone else to dictate my life's path. I’m so eager to get to him that I don’t even bother to put on a coat as I head out the door.
I slide into the driver's seat of my mom's car, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart. It takes me longer to get to him than anticipated. The rain only picks up the closer I get and for a moment, I think about turning around, but I don’t want to lose this courage.
I pull into the driveway behind his Jeep and barely turn the car off before I’m out and hurrying up to his house. I'm drenched within seconds as rain pelts my skin, and my clothes cling to me like a second skin. The world around me is a blur, the rain coming down in relentless sheets. My heart pounds, not just from the sprint but from the decision that propels me forward.
As I near his porch, I spot Angel stepping outside. He's just a silhouette against the storm, but unmistakable all the same. The sight of him halts me in my tracks. Water drips from my hair into my eyes, and I blink it away, squinting through the downpour.
“What are you doing here?” he yells over the roar of the rain.
I take a step closer, the sound of my own voice uncertain against the storm. “I just wanted to see you,” I shout.
He doesn't say another word. He strides forward, closing the distance between us in seconds. His hands find mine in the chaos of water and wind, pulling me toward him as his lips crash into mine, claiming me in a way that’s unmistakable. We’ve done our fair share of kissing this past week, but not like this.
He pulls me inside, and the door slams shut behind us, cutting off the roar of the rain. Inside, it's warm and dry and mostly quiet.
“I wasn't going to let you go without telling you how I feel,” he breathes out, his green eyes searching mine.
“Neither was I.”
He brushes wet strands of hair from my face with such tenderness that my resolve wavers and tears mix with rainwater on my cheeks.
“I'll go to Pittsburgh if that's what you want,” he says.
I reach up to touch his face, so familiar and yet so new in this moment of truth between us. “That's not what I want,” I reply firmly.
Angel waits silently as if holding his breath for my next words.
“I want to be here in Scarlet Ridge with you,” I tell him. “I want you to open your business and live the life you've always wanted, and I want to be right by your side through all of it.” His expression shifts as he processes what I'm saying. “And there's something else,” I continue, feeling a wild courage take hold of me. “I want us to go on that trip we never went on before.”
Angel looks at me as if he's trying to read whether this is some kind of dream he might wake up from at any moment.
“I've got savings, and I don’t have to get a job right away,” I say quickly before doubt can cloud this moment. “Maybe we can't go for a whole year, but we could go for a few months. By the time we get back, maybe some new space will open up for me start up in... Or maybe... We could start that business together. You take the lead, and I can take care of the financial part of it. You’ll need an accountant either way, right?”
His response is immediate, no hesitation mars his voice. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
It's all he says, but it carries with it all the weight of our years apart and the possibility of years together.
We're standing close now. Close enough that I can see how dilated his pupils are, close enough that when he leans in toward me, there's no space left for doubt or regret or anything but this.
Our lips meet in a kiss that feels like it's been waiting for us since we were teenagers sneaking around in the dark. It's hungry and full of promise, a silent vow that neither of us will let go again.
The rain continues its relentless drumming against the windows, but inside Angel's house, there's only love and certainty and two hearts finding their way back home.
Chapter 16Angel
Iris and I are drenched to the bone as we succumb to our desires, our clothes clinging to our bodies like a second skin. But we don't care. We only care about doing what we should have done all those years ago.
Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated with lust as she looks up at me, ready and eager for me to do whatever I want to her. Her lips part as her breath comes in short, ragged gasps. She's beautiful, and I can't take my eyes off her.
"You cold?" I ask with a smirk.
She looks up at me and nods.
"We better do something about that then, shouldn't we?" I take her hand and lead her upstairs to my bedroom and quickly get a fire started in the fireplace. She's only been out of my arms a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity, so I rush to her as soon as the fire is going.
Leaning down, I kiss her forehead gently, tasting the drops of rain lingering on her skin. The fire crackles in the background, casting a warm glow across her drenched figure, the orange light flickering over her curves. I draw back, my eyes roaming over every inch of her, as if committing each detail to memory.
"You're soaked," I say, my voice rough with want and something more. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes." Slowly, I lift the hem of her shirt. Her arms tremble slightly as she raises them to allow me to take the soaked garment off, our gazes lock together as if we're afraid to break the moment. The fabric falls away like autumn leaves, exposing her body. Her bruises are nearly gone now and I'm confident she's ready for this. Her lacy bra covers her breasts, and I can't stand the thought of keeping them covered one second longer, but before I can take it off, she stops me.
"Your turn," she says, a sultry smile playing on her lips as she pushes my jacket off. With trembling fingers, I lift my shirt over my head and discard it on the growing pile of wet garments on the floor. The air between us crackles with electricity, charged with unspoken words and long-held desires.
Iris's eyes travel down my bare chest, her gaze lingering on each muscle, every ripple in the firelight.
"You're so fucking hot, you know that," she asks softly and settles her hands on my chest. A blush creeps into my cheeks, but I can't bring myself to look away from her either. Her beauty still takes my breath away after all these years.
