Cuts Like An Angel (15 page)

“You missed a bit,” he said reaching across to wipe around her mouth. Without even thinking, he reached around her neck, hands pressed to her warm skin, igniting feelings inside him. He wanted to lean down and kiss her suddenly.

“The food is …” she flustered, and he realised he was towering there like a man with a fetish for cleaning lips.

He stepped back and took hold of his drink and knocked it back with loud gulps. It made his head swim a little. “I’m glad you like it. Do you need to borrow a shirt or something to sleep in?”

“Oh god.” Her eyes went wide. “I totally forgot about getting anything to wear.”

“It’s okay.” He went to the basket of folded washing near the back door. He took the top shirt off and opened it. “Will this do?”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s just a shirt.” Just a shirt. That she would be wearing … in his bed …

“Do you mind if I go and wash up? I think the wine has gone a little to my head.”

“I don’t mind at all. I am pretty tired myself.” He put on a stretching show and she smiled. “Tomorrow, we begin getting ready for the big invasion.”

“How could I forget?”

Josh showed her to the bathroom upstairs. “Washcloths and towels are here,” he indicated to the little cabinet “I’ve yet to restock properly, toiletries don’t make the top of the list. I use the liquid soap for every manner of washing. Ignore the broken mirror. Not had time to fix that yet.” He found an unused toothbrush. “Ah, still in the pack.” He handed it to her.

“Gosh, thank you. That’s one thing I have. I carry it with me. In a plastic holder,” she added, like he’d think she crammed it in her purse.

He demonstrated the hot and cold taps, then made his way to the door so she could carry on.    “I’ll be readying my room. Your room. For you. I’ll take the couch.”

He let out a breath when he finally closed the door. He’d not been this nervous since he’d stood up to his mother that first time. Safe in his room, he looked around. There wasn’t much there. Everything was still in boxes really. He’d never quite committed to moving back into this place. A few minutes later, he heard the creak of the bathroom door and popped his head out of the room. Rosie stood there, wearing only his shirt. Her slender legs bare. She had washed away the little make-up she had worn, but shit, it made her even more beautiful.

“You can sleep in here tonight,” He realised that was probably the fifth time he’d told her that.

She padded across the hallway to him and peered in. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

For an awkward moment, they stood there, looking at each other. Should he kiss her? Hug her? Shake her hand? … Shake her hand ... God, what a total tool.

His body decided to reach down and grab her hand. He leaned down to her face and paused, smelling her. Breathing in her sweet perfection. “Goodnight, Rosie,” he said, his mouth hovering just above hers.

Her eyes searched his, her breath light against his lips. “Goodnight, Josh,” she whispered back. She leaned in at the exact second stupid chicken shit Josh moved his lips to her forehead for a light, fatherly kiss.

“I’m just downstairs if you need me.” He let go of her hand. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t look back as he walked down the stairs. He stopped at the bottom, leaning against the wall and listening as she closed his bedroom door, shutting him out.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rosie

Ugh. Rosie plopped onto the bed, holding her midsection tight. He was about to kiss her. Why had he stopped? She put her hand in front of her mouth and puffed a few times, trying to smell her breath. She’d just brushed her teeth. Maybe it was the wine on her breath mixed with the mint. Like … icy … rotten grapes.

She replayed the almost kiss in her mind, closing her eyes. His brows had drawn in concentration; she would have
guaranteed
he was about to plant one on her mouth. God,
why?
She flopped back onto the bed, feeling the rush of emotions buzzing inside her. Fear, excitement …
She slowly pulled her hands up her body and pressed them to the desperate beat of her yearning heart. Could this really be happening? Was she really at his house? Was she really in his
room?
He’d given her his bed. She was wearing his
clothes. Eeeek!

Giggles of joy burst out, and she flopped over onto her stomach and put her nose into the blanket. Oh God she could
smell
his cologne. She began sniffing around the bed like a bloodhound, screaming when a knock sounded on the door.

Shit
. “Yes?” she called.

“I … have your phone here. Thought you might need it?”

“Oh.” She hurried to the door, her heart a nauseating burst of flutters. Opening it, she stared at the extended phone, then up at him, as she took it. Alarm hit her at the look on his face. What on earth was he seeing to cause such a worried expression? She reached up and passed her hand over her hair, pushing a little behind her ear. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Is … the bed to your liking?” he asked.

“Oh God, of course.” She waved a hand, breathless. “Smells great.” Oh God, shit. “What kind of detergent do you use?” she tossed a thumb behind her.

“Oh,” he licked his lips, and her eyes zeroed in on the shine. He was staring at her again, smiling. Hell, he’d answered her, and she’d not heard.

“Right,” she nodded. “Don’t think I’ve heard of that. It’s a really great scent,” she nodded, cringing inside at his lowered grin. She’d said something stupid. Something that didn’t match.

“If you need anything, you can come get me. I mean get me to help.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, and it was her turn to smile. He was nervous.

“I could call you,” she said, wagging her phone at him.

He laughed. “That might be the best idea. Wouldn’t want you to take a trip on the stairs at night. Oh, and watch out for Stiches. He likes to set traps on the stairs and scare the shit out of people.”

“Okay. Maybe I should bring Mr. Buckles and they could have a sleep over too.”

His grin was precious. “One puss … Yes, Stiches would like that I’m sure. He’s a bloody demon and needs a distraction that aren’t my feet.”

“I’ll bring Buckles tomorrow. What time do you want to get started?”

“Shall I wake you with breakfast in bed?” he asked, winking. “Like a proper boyfriend?”

Her eyes widened in giddy joy at the mention of boyfriend. She didn’t care if they were
playing,
it was more fun than she’d had in … ever. And she was pretty sure that sometimes he was being serious. God she hoped. “I could certainly get used to that.”

“Right,” he turned a little then faced her. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

She watched him head to the stairs before she shut the door. Turning off the light, she ran to his bed, bounding onto it like a child. She scooted under the blanket and covered her head, smiling with her phone clutched to her chest while breathing in the scent of him. She tried to imagine him in the bed. How did he sleep? On his back? His stomach? Was he a side sleeper? Her eyes popped open. Did he sleep … nude?

Heat surged through her, igniting the very core of her womanhood at the idea of visions of his naked body played in her naughty head. Her breaths heated up the air under the covers until she jerked the covers down for oxygen.

Her phone vibrated and she jerked it up. “William,” she whispered, fear clutching her chest. She pressed the button and put it to her ear. “William? Are you okay?”

“Hey Rosie.”

Her stomach jolted at the distant sound of his voice. “William?” She sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Rosie, I just can’t sleep. I needed to hear you, that’s all. How’s my sunshine doing?”

Her body sagged. “Shit, you scared me,” she whispered, laying back down.

“Why are you scared?”

“I just … I worry about you.”

“Ah, Rosie. I missed you today.”

She smiled and turned on her side. “What did you do today?”

“More of the same. Getting my life cleaned up, a little bit at a time. But tell me about your day, Rosie.”

Her smile grew, and she drew her knees up, knocking them together. “I might be sleeping at his house.”

“His house? The guy you thought didn’t like you?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t help but squeal, ready to burst. “You were right William. He’d not thought any of that crazy stuff.”

“I told you, Rosie. How could he not like somebody as beautiful as you?”

“Stop,” she said, with a face breaking grin.

“So tell me about this bloke,” he said.

Rosie giggled and flopped to her stomach. “Well. He’s … oh God, he’s amazing,” she barely squeaked. “Sorry, I’m just way too happy.”

“You are?” he asked. “Are you sure?”

“I am, if I’m right about him,” she said. “If I’m not, oh shit, William, I’m going to die.”

“No you won’t,” he said. “I’d never let that happen. I’m sure he’s not an idiot.”

“I think he wanted to kiss me,” she confessed, needing to tell somebody everything.

“He hasn’t
kissed
you yet?”

“I know. He was going to tonight and then didn’t. At least I think he was.”

“Okay, maybe he is an idiot.”

She laughed quietly and sighed. “So nice to hear your voice.”

“Is it?”

“It is. Tell me what you’ve been doing?”

“I don’t want to talk about me, Rosie.”

“Why? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just want to talk about you. I promise to fill you in on all the boring details. Right now, I need to talk about you.”

“Why me?” she smiled, not sure why that made her happy. “My life isn’t exciting.”

“You’re exciting to me. When I hear your voice. It’s like a night light. It helps me to forget her.”

“Her?”

“My girlfriend.”

Rosie gasped. “You have a girlfriend? Had?”

“Have, had,” he muttered. “She isn’t really into me, Rosie.”

“What?” Rosie cried, a mixture of anger and something else hitting her. “What’s wrong with her?”

“More like, what’s right. She’s smart, that’s all. She sees what I am.”

“And what are you?” Rosie demanded, getting pissed.

“You know what I am too,” he said.

“I do, yes,” she said, nodding. “You’re a beautiful soul, a
wonderful
man. Stop talking this way, William.”

“Thank you Rosie,” he said softly. “Every night I can’t sleep because of her.”

“Why?” Rosie wasn’t sure she wanted to know but knew she needed to get him to talk.

“Because I want her so bad. My body aches for her.”

Rosie’s gaze narrowed at this news. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Strange, happy, sad. Annoyed? “Why can’t …” she remembered what he said, she didn’t want him. “Are you sure she doesn’t want you?”

“She’s with somebody, Rosie.”

“Oh William,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m happy for her. She deserves so much more than what I can give her.”

“Well, she’s stupid,” Rosie blurted.

“She’s not,” he mumbled flatly “She’s very smart.”

“Stop talking like that. She’s a … a stupid …
bitch
okay? There, I called her it. That’s what she is for not being with you and I won’t take it back.”

The sound of his low laughter filled her ear, mixing joy with the agony in her heart for him. “You always make me smile, Rosie.”

“You deserve to be happy, you know,” she insisted, feeling the worthlessness through the phone.

“I’m glad you found somebody Rosie,” he said, making her heart jerk in her chest. “I think he’s stupid for not kissing you, though.”

She toyed with the covers, suddenly feeling bad to talk about her great new developments, or think about the conviction in his tone. That he would. He would kiss her. Hadn’t she thought of that very thing before? Wondered if he felt that way? At first she’d worried he did. When did that change from worrying he might to feeling flattered and happy that he did?

“You deserve to be kissed properly, every day. All day even,” He said with such casual calm while her heart raced at what he was telling her again. He would kiss her every day. All day.  

“I …  I don’t know,” she said, clenching her eyes tight.  She waited for him to respond. “William?”

“What?”

His sudden sad tone made her stomach jolt. “What’s wrong?” A long span of silence made her sit up. “William, what’s wrong?”

“I …”

“Okay, just take a breath.”

“I don’t want you to be angry with me Rosie or disappointed, that’s the last thing I ever wanted with you.”

“Why would I be angry?” She crossed her legs under herself on the bed. “You’d never disappoint me, William. Talk to me.”

More dead air before he finally said, “Remember how I said … that you didn’t have to worry about me … having feelings for you?”

Rosie waited in the quiet, her heart hammering. “Yes,” she heard herself say.”

“Okay, look,” he said, sounding like he moved to another position, making her wonder where he was and what he was doing. “Can I retract? I
really
don’t want to talk about this.”

“William, it’s too late,” she cried quietly. “We can’t just … pretend it’s not there.”

“I can’t Rosie, please,” he begged quietly. “Tell me what you look like Rosie. I’ve never seen you before.”

Subject change. Kind of. Redirection. “I’m …”

“Don’t’ answer that. It was inappropriate.”

“Right now, I’m frumpy,” she smiled.

“Frumpy,” he said, sounding curious about the term.

“Means I’m as plain as they come.”

“Oh God, Rosie,” he said, sounding fascinated. “You’re very clueless about yourself, aren’t you?”

Her starved ego bloomed under his warm affections, wanting more.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

Her stomach tensed with the surge of her pulse. This was a bad direction to go in. “A shirt,” she said. “And …” 
Shit
. “Undergarments.”

“I’m sorry, Rosie, see?”

“See what?” She hated when he sounded so defeated. “I’m dressed for bed, shirt and underpants.” Underpants, good one. “And you?” she asked, ready to get herself out of the awkward wardrobe spotlight.

“I’m in bed,” he said.

“I gathered that much, silly,” she smiled.

“Did you,” he said, his voice lower.

“I’m guessing you wear pyjamas.”

“You think?” he asked, laughter in his voice.

“With cartoon characters.”

“Sure, Rosie.”

She snickered. “Sure, Rosie? Is it Batman? Spiderman?”

“How about Invisible Man?”

“Ha. I don’t even really know that one. Was he your favorite?”

“I guess his clothes were.”

“What did he wear?”

“Nothing Rosie.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“I am,” he chuckled sounding tickled. “He wore nothing.”

The sudden silence was deafening as she finally figured it out.

“You made me,” he said softly as her brain began automatically drawing pictures and making her cheeks go up in flames.

“I’m sorry,” she gushed.

“I should be the one apologizing.”

“You did try to stop me.”

“I should have tried harder. Now I’ve made everything weird.”

“Pfft,” she waved a hand. “Everybody sleeps in the nude at one time or another in life,” she said, fanning her cheeks.

“Except you, I’m sure.”

“Well, I … I may have once or twice back at home when I was younger. Summer times were hotter than the devil’s pie hole. Once, I slept in a sheet with a water bottle and a box fan. We didn’t have air conditioner.”

He laughed softly. “So you slept in wet sheets?”

She had to laugh to hide her embarrassment. “Sleeping nude wasn’t enough, it was like having the devil breathing on me all night with just the box fan. God, I’m sorry, there’s a devil in all my stories, it seems.”

“Well, not if you count the angel in wet sheets ...” She heard rustling and fought to dispel the naked limbs in her mind. “Dirty bastard must’ve been panting all over you.”