I gave up something I wanted for something I need. And I need you, Angel.
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We don't have to go back to my place, Angel. I can take you home, if that's what you want. Or, if you decide you want to sleep at my place, on opposite sides of my bedroom with a Do Not Cross line drawn down the middle, I'll do it. I won't like it, but I'll do it.
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I could get you to smile like that, and without sales tax."
I whirled around to find the real Patch standing in the fitting room behind me. He was wearing jeans and a snug white tee. His arms were folded loosely over his chest, and his black eyes smiled down at me.
Heat that wasn't entirely uncomfortable flushed through my body.
"I could make all kinds of pervert jokes right now," I quipped.
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This isn't your fight, Patch," I said quietly.
His eyes burned with an intensity I'd never seen before. "You're mine, Angel, and don't you forget it. Your fights are my fights. What if something had happened today? It was bad enough when I thought your ghost was haunting me; I don't think I could handle the real thing.
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Nothing makes me happy quite like a boatload of freshly fried fast food, smothered in good old MSG.
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You sound worked up. Really worked up. No, that's not it. You sound agitated...flustered...aroused." I could feel her eyes widen. "He kissed you, didn't he?"
No answer.
"He did! I knew it! I've seen the way he looks at you. I knew this was coming. I saw it from a mile away."
I didn't want to think about it.
"What was it like?" Vee pressed. "A peach kiss? A plum kiss? Or an al-fal-fa kiss?"
"What?"
"Was it a peck, did mouths part, or was there tongue? Never mind. You don't have to answer that. Patch isn't the kind of guy to deal with preliminaries. There was tongue involved. Guaranteed.
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I stared at the phone in disbelief, then ripped a clean sheet of paper from my notebook. I scribbled ' Jerk ' on the first line. On the line beneath it I added, ' Smokes cigars. Will die of lung cancer. Hopefully soon.
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He was abominable...and the most alluring, tortured soul I'd ever met.
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And you would have lost. We were surrounded. He threatened your life, and he would have made good on that threat. He had you, and that meant he had me, too.
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I don't have a car."
His eyes sliced into mine.
"I walked here," I explained. "I'm on foot."
"Angel," he said in a way that sounded like he sincerely hoped I was joking.
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