All Amity Allows (Fall for You Book 2) (15 page)

“What should I do?” she murmured.

“Do you love him?”

“Don’t we love them all?” she asked in response. That was certainly the standard line amongst the angels—the guardians of the world.

“That is not what I meant, and I believe you know that.”

“I know. And the truth is, I don’t know. I know we’re not supposed to feel for them, at least not the way I think I might feel about Drew, but I can’t stop thinking about him. I want to check on him whenever I’m away from his side. I can’t imagine the day that I have to leave him to live the rest of his life. I don’t know if I could stand seeing him in the arms of another.”

“But?”

“Well, I haven’t done this in years. Maybe this feeling is normal. Maybe it’s just been so long since I’ve allowed myself to feel anything for anyone. Maybe—”

Peter sighed and shook his head sadly. “Why did you come here? Did you want me to help you justify the way you feel? Do you seek permission?”

“No. I—I don’t know. I guess I just want to know whether this is normal. I can’t be the only angel to have ever gone through this.”

Peter pushed himself off the bench and paced away from her. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“What
can
you tell me?”

“All I can say is that if you really love someone, it can change you. Once something is changed, it can never go back to the way things used to be. Even if everything appears to go back to the way it once was, that change is there.”

“But how do I know if I really love him?”

“You’ll know. There will be a moment, and you will just know.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she asked the question she really wanted to ask—the one, which could change everything. “And if I am, is it worth the risk?”

He changed his appearance to age at least twenty years in a matter of seconds, he was trying to diminish the advice he’d given her—diminish his trusted counselor status. “Who am I to say? I just keep the peace among the souls in my care.”

“But—” Her question stilled on her lips as her humanity called her back.

“Amity,” Drew’s voice surrounded them in the orchard.

Peter’s gaze snapped to Amity’s. “You have to go.”

“But I still don’t—”

Drew’s voice called for her again.

“Now,” Peter said, cutting off further argument.

Chapter Fourteen

Drew was distracted
as he walked through his front door. His mind was running at a million miles an hour with Cathy’s words and with plans for his dinner at his father’s house. He called out a greeting to Amity before heading straight into his ensuite to get ready.

While he showered, he gave some serious thought to getting out. Or at least, getting away. He didn’t want to force a relationship with Amity when she clearly didn’t want one. After all, he couldn’t risk having his heart broken again, but he wasn’t sure how to stop his heart thundering along that track. It wasn’t like he’d chosen for her to show up in his life as she had, to inject color and fun in a way he’d never experienced before. Some time away from the situation definitely seemed like the best idea.

As Amity’s lack of interest in pursuing anything further ran through him, his mind turned to what possible changes he could have undergone since leaving L.A. that left him so undesirable to the women he wanted. Back there, he had women practically clamoring for him, even if it was just for his cock and his paycheck. Now though . . . now, he felt like the pathetic teen he’d been before he’d been dragged from Flint the first time around. It didn’t help that he was in the middle of a dry-spell which had started in the days leading up to Becca leaving him. Maybe he needed to go somewhere crazy, somewhere tropical, and spend some time getting laid with no expectations.

He was still mentally planning possible vacations as he dressed. His lack of an imagination didn’t do him any favors and he wondered whether he would have been far better off just giving a travel agent his credit card and letting them plan a holiday for him. Those thoughts were still running through his head when he sought out Amity to let her know that he would be out for the evening. Not that he needed to let her know really. They were only housemates after all.
Friends
. He didn’t owe her any explanations. It was just that after all their days and nights spent together, it felt wrong to go out without at least telling her where he was headed to ensure she didn’t worry needlessly.

“Amity?” he called as he left his room, hoping he’d be able to conduct the conversation face-to-face and at least have a chance to explain some of the reasons he’d been agitated at lunch.

When he reached his living room, she was resting on the sofa. Her body was practically enveloped by the puffy brown suede cushions, as if the sofa had claimed her as its own and was trying to drag her body into its depths.

She looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to disturb her. He moved to grab a pen from the drawer underneath his coffee table, but stopped when he realized Amity wasn’t breathing.

The sensible part of him told him that he was wrong. That she was obviously just drawing such shallow breaths that he couldn’t see the movement. He moved closer, desperate to know she was okay.

“Amity?” he said, trying to rouse her.

He crossed the room to her side and lifted his hand to press his fingers against her carotid artery. Before he could touch her, she sat bolt upright with a sharp indrawn breath. The movement sent Drew tumbling backward onto the floor.

“Fuck! You scared the crap out of me!” He sucked in a breath and as he blew it out, he was able to slow the beating of his heart. At least a little. “Are you okay?”

Amity dragged her fingers through her long hair, playing with the ends rather than meeting his gaze.

“Am, are you all right?”

Her eyes finally lifted to meet his. “Am?” she asked. “That’s new.”

“Sorry, I just thought . . . if we’re
friends
and all.” It almost hurt him physically to say the word friend. This is crazy! he thought.
It wasn’t even two weeks ago that I was mad about Becca
.
I really do need to get away from women in general for a while, at least all the women I might actually care about
. “I thought it wouldn’t hurt to give you a nickname. If you don’t like it, I’ll stick to—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she cut him off. “I’ve just never really had a nickname before.”

“Are you okay?” He moved closer to her as he asked her again.

She looked a little perplexed by his question. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because . . . well . . .” He wasn’t sure how to best broach the subject of her not breathing when he came into the room. He decided to drop it and just keep an eye on her. Maybe she had sleep apnea. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon disorder after all. Pushing the worst of his worry out of his mind, he offered her a weak smile. “Listen, I was thinking about doing something a little different tonight.”

“Like what?”

“Dinner at my father’s place.”

She smiled brightly. “Oh, that sounds really nice. I’d love to meet him.”

He ran his statement through his head again and realized exactly how it could sound like he was inviting her along too. It hadn’t been his intention, but he couldn’t disappoint her by telling her the truth either. That he’d planned the evening to specifically
not
include her.

“When do we leave?”

He shrugged. “As soon as you’re ready.”

She stood and smoothed her clothes with her hands. “Let’s go then.”

“Okay, just let me—” He pointed behind him. “Keys.”

When he went to get the car keys, he pulled out his phone and sent his father a quick text to let him know dinner would have to be for one more. He led Amity to the car and held the door for her.

“About earlier,” she started before faltering as he climbed in the driver’s seat. She twisted in her seat to meet his gaze. “At the diner, I didn’t mean to offend you or hurt you. I just didn’t plan for this.”

He froze, captured in her gaze. “Plan for what exactly?”

“For feeling this way about you,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt . . . so . . . so
much
for anyone before.”

Drew could hardly believe his ears. He’d hoped there was a possibility that she felt the same way, and here she was confessing to that fact, despite her clear affirmation of the
just friends
stance a few hours earlier.

“It’s ridiculous that you can make me feel this way because I’m—” She sighed and looked away.

“You’re what?” Drew’s heart was in his throat as he considered the many ways that sentence could end, each worse than the last. Gay. Married. Leaving.

“It’s hard to explain, but I just can’t . . . I’m not allowed to feel the things that I really want to let myself feel.”

Drew’s heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn’t even concentrate enough to drive. He pushed the key into the ignition, but then his hands fell to rest lamely in his lap. “What are you trying to say?”

“Just that I might have made a mistake, today I mean, and I wish I could have a do-over because I’m sure I would handle it differently.”

He ignored all pretense of trying to start the car and turned to look at Amity instead. “Do you mean that?”

She looked down at her hands. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m scared, Drew.”

“Of what?”

She scoffed. “Of everything. This is all so new. I don’t really know what to do.”

“Look at me, Am,” he murmured. Every ounce of desperation he felt for her was clear in his voice.

She twisted in her seat and the genuine fear in her eyes made his heart ache.

Amity wished
she’d kept her mouth shut. It would have been so much easier dealing with everything if she’d just kept quiet. She knew her words had driven Drew’s hopes through the ceiling. She could feel his every emotion echoing through the tiny cabin of the car. It was stifling and made it almost impossible to breathe—it was hard to keep up the pretense of being a normal human without that small action.

When, at his insistence, she’d turned to look at Drew, her heart felt like it had stopped beating. He just stared at her for a moment. The desire and hope in his gaze was so intense that she was frozen like the proverbial deer.

She swallowed down everything that was bubbling inside of her, turning her insides into a tumultuous mess. “What?”

He smiled. The sight was dazzling, almost as if the clouds that had rested upon his brow since the day she’d first seen him had finally parted to allow the real Drew to shine through. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”

“Drew, I—”

He shook his hand to silence her. “Before you say anything else, I just wanted to say thank you. I don’t think you will ever realize how much you have done for me just by being at my side.”

He reached forward and brushed her hair behind her ear. With the movement, his fingertips stroked across the curve of her cheek and she was struck by the same pleasant jolt she’d felt when he’d drunkenly kissed her.

He dropped his hand to her side and leaned forward out of his seat, pressing his lips to the place his fingertips had just left. Amity closed her eyes and did what she could to hold her emotions in check as he did. His breath tickled across her cheek as he moved his mouth and touched his lips to the corner of hers. She instinctively jerked away from the contact.

He stiffened at her reaction and pulled away as well. “I’m sorry. I must have . . . I thought you meant . . .” He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I really shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t. You don’t. It’s just—” She released her breath in a rush before burying her head in her hands and releasing a frustrated growl. After that did nothing to help her, she looked back at him. “When I said I wish I’d handled things better, I meant that I wished I’d explained better why we can’t do, well,” she brushed her fingertips over the spot where he’d kissed her, “that.”

Drew turned away. “I’m an idiot. I’ve misread every fucking sign you gave. You must think me pathetic.”

“No.” Her voice was earnest, and she hated that she’d let them end up in this place. The bubbling mess inside her was no better than his emotions, so she was being buffeted from outside as well as within. She reached out to touch her fingertips to his cheek, guiding him back to look at her.

She met his gaze and held it. He needed to know how she felt, deserved to know the truth—or at least what version of it she could give him. “I feel those things. God, do I feel them! It’s just that, us being together, it’s not a good idea, Drew.”

He placed his hand over hers, holding it against his face. “Why not?”

“Because one day, maybe one day very soon, I’ll have to leave. And I don’t want to hurt you when I do.”

He leaned forward, his gaze piercing and full of longing. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

With as much care as she could, she extracted her hand from his hold. “I’m not. I can’t start anything more than the friendship we already have.”

She hated the words even as they came out, but she was already too deeply and personally involved in Drew’s case. She had to hurt him to help him, or there would be no escaping unscathed for either of them.

“Isn’t it my choice whether I want to take that risk?”

“It’s mine too,” she argued weakly. “I—I don’t want to get hurt either.”

“I think it’s too late for that, don’t you?” He reached for her hand, drawing it back to his face, her palm to his lips. Although the pain she’d experienced each time they’d touched still buzzed through her, there was an undercurrent of something different—something new.

She’d never been more scared of any simple movement before. All of the walls she’d built over the millennia erected themselves anew as her skin brushed his, but there was a tiny chink in her armor. He pressed his lips to her palm in an open-mouthed hiss, his eyes closed as if in prayer. The action, combined with her failing defenses was enough to let him penetrate her armor, and before she realized what she was allowing him to do, he pulled at truths he was never meant to see. She tried to stop the information from leaving her in a rush, but with her grace wrapped so tightly around his damaged soul, with her body and mind tuned so innately to his, it was impossible to stop.

“Drew,” she uttered in a broken whisper at the look of horror that crossed his face when he dropped her hand.