Page 19 of His Relentless Angel

“What?”

“He’s gone, so now you’re done?”

“Done with what?” I take my glasses off to clean them with a microfiber lens cloth I pull from my pocket, wiping away non-existent dust, pretending I don’t know what she’s talking about.

I’m pretty sure she calls me an asshole under her breath before walking away. And like the asshole I am, I trail after her, keeping close by in case any more of Autumn’s friends want to make introductions with the troublemaker in her troublemaking dress, yet not allowing myself the torturous pleasure of touching her again.

Asshole, indeed.

* * *

After one of the most trying days of my life touring Austin, we head back to have dinner at the upscale restaurant attached to the hotel, all shiny black walls with dim wall sconces and flickering candles on the black tabletop. It’s a short countdown ‘til I can end my misery by going home and jerking my cock in the shower after the group goes up to their rooms for the night. It’ll be Bailey’s name on my lips when I cum, and it’ll be Bailey in this orange sundress who haunts my dreams.

Usually, I spend all my time trying to avoid Bailey, but today, I’ve had to dodge her dad, too, and the angry questions brewing in his eyes. It puts a damper on an otherwise beautiful day, considering he’s one of my closest friends. Ever since James introduced us, and he jumped head first into learning how to play our RPG game, we’ve been thick as thieves. As much as I love and get along with my father, I have more in common with Sherman when it comes to our humor and the kind of books we like to read. It’s always a good time and a laugh when I’m with him.

Not this trip, though.

James argues with Sherman over who gets to pay the bill after they both told me no when I pulled out my wallet. It’s funny as hell watching the sisters roll their eyes, knowing they all got it from their mother, who tells Sherman, “Let it go and let James pay if he wants to.”

Shayla laughs and pats James’s hand when he gives his father-in-law a smug grin. “Just think of how bad it’ll be when the girls have husbands fighting for their turn, too, trying to one-up him,” she says, poking James in the side.

Sherman points to her and says with pretend anger, “Hush. It’ll be a long time ‘til that day comes.”

“Yeah, Shayla, I’m only twenty,” Autumn says. “No way am I getting married this young. Going to sow my wild oats before I think about settling down,” she jokes with a huge smile directed at Sherman, making him huff.

“Hush. The both of you,” he scolds.

And then Autumn says something that silences the whole group, even though she meant it as a joke. “And Bailey is never getting married, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Bailey’s face falls, and she shoves away from the table, rushing out of the restaurant.

Autumn stands and yells across the room, “Shit, Bailey, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” Autumn looks down at the table, and Shayla watches the exit where Bailey disappeared.

Every muscle in my body tenses, ready to sprint after Bailey. I grip the solid armrests on my chair and lean forward, though I plant my feet on the floor to keep me cemented to the spot, the same as Sherman’s pressed lips and narrowed eyes on me do.

Miranda reaches for her daughter’s hand and stands, worrying her bottom lip. “Leave her be, Autumn. I’m sure she wants to be alone right now.” To the rest, she says, “I think it’s time we call it a night. We have to be up early to pick up the kids from Martin and Eden’s house.” At last, she looks at me expectantly, still seated after everyone else stands. When I slowly rise, she pulls me in for a hug. “It was so good to see you again, Isaiah. I hope you come home soon.”

Home. She knows as well as I do that Austin isn’t my true home. It’s just a stopover. I used to go home quite often, though I only did so when I knew Bailey was away at school, and I always left before she was due to come home on the weekends. But I haven’t visited since she graduated and moved back to town.

Sherman is next in line, surprisingly pulling me into a hug as well. I thought for sure he’d have left without a word to start digging my grave. But then, right before he pulls away, he says in a low, gruff voice, “Do the right thing.” Fuck me, the man can tear me to pieces as easily as his daughter.

Once I’ve said my goodbyes to James, Shayla, and lastly, Autumn, who can barely look at me, I make my way to the hotel’s parking garage, dragging my feet weighed down by mental cinder blocks.

Do the right thing.

I need to get in my car, drive home, and try to forget every smile Bailey gave me today. Every sway of her hips. The way the muscles in her long legs flexed as she walked. The slope of her jawline begging for a kiss whenever an errant breeze lifted the hair around her face. Forget the way she felt pressed against me when we took our group photo. Forget the way her breath hitched when I wrapped my arms around the waist I envisioned expanding with our child.

Forget that when Autumn said Bailey would never marry, it’s because everyone knows that Bailey would never choose to be with someone else when she’s in love with me.

And fuck, there goes the last piece of me.

Do the right thing, Isaiah.

Do the right thing.

Do the—fuck!

I sprint back to the lobby, wedge myself through the sliding glass doors when they open too slowly and run straight through to the elevator. I jam the button over and over again until the doors finally open, then press the button for the second floor.

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