Page 70 of Desiring an Angel

I nodded, forking up my last bite of potatoes.

“And I’ll catch an Uber home since it’s not that far,” Skylar tacked on.

Home—she made it sound as though she’d moved in permanently with Ash’s blessing.

Unease brewed inside my guts along with that strange sense of rightness, and I didn’t know what the fuck to think about either feeling.

“I’m going to clean up,” Ash said as though hearing my thoughts and not wanting me to expand on them. “You two can take your wine into the living room.”

Ash was giving me time alone with the woman who’d already captured his attention—and possibly a part of his heart. But how far was I willing to go before she got on my last nerve and I told him she wasn’t going to work out?

I stood at the living room’s edge, eyeing the couch and two chairs, my dick suggesting I sit on the first, my brain pushing for the second.

A gentle touch cradled my hip just like Ash always did, but soft breasts replaced hard pecs as Skylar leaned against my back. “Couch,” she suggested in a near whisper that rippled awareness over my skin and had me biting back a groan.

I did not want to like her…or want her. But that latter part? Too fucking late.

26

Skylar

We sat on the couch, both of us half-facing one another, and he sipped his wine in my periphery while I studied my drink.

Ashton and I had planned for me to spend a little time alone with Rhett, and even though I thought I’d hit the jackpot as far as pleasing him with the dinner Ashton had suggested I make, I still felt highly inadequate to hold a conversation with Rhett.

Like Ashton, Rhett was polished, but he also held an air of reserved sternness that seemed more like superiority to me. My backside squirmed beneath his stare.

“Tell me your plans for the future, Skylar. Aspirations, goals…where do you see yourself in five years?”

The question turned my focus inward as a gazillion ideas leapt to life in answer to his question, but I managed to hold my tongue.

Barely.

I couldn’t get my head on straight though.

“Don’t overthink, Skylar. I want to know your thoughts, no matter how messy or fragmented. Just be honest.”

Rhett’s kind words eased the twisting in my stomach, and I chanced a glance at his face. Like that morning, he peered at me with something other than cool reserve.

A little heat, perhaps? That was probably just my fanciful mind dreaming.

My knee bounced as my feet grew itchy. I clutched my wine glass tighter, unable to hold his gaze. One last swallow, and I forced myself to set my empty glass on the coffee table in front of us.

“I desire to be loved for who I am,” I spewed out my number wish while sitting back again. “Quirks and all—unconditionally. But, um…who doesn’t?” I huffed a little laugh and rubbed my palms on my dress, more nerves than anything.

“What else?”

“A house of my own. Children.” I shrugged, expecting the things I wished to pursue wouldn’t have been his choice in a second partner. “I know I’m not smart enough for the corporate world. I barely squeaked by for my high school diploma, and even then only got it because a few of my teachers nudged me toward passing grades when I didn’t deserve them.”

“Did you have ADHD symptoms as a child? That’s when most people with the disorder are diagnosed.”

“I’ve always been absent-minded. Head in the clouds,” I added the sing-song tone to my voice on that last bit. “Hyperactive—but my parents thought I was just looking for attention. I got it, just not the good kind.”

“Now that, I understand entirely.”

I dared another peek. Rhett’s eyes had shuttered down, his emotions behind a bland façade.

“Were you a wild child?” I asked.

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