She lifts her shoulder and frowns. “I cried.” Her hand covers her mouth. “Oh my gosh. I’d forgotten about it, but I did. I went home and cried to my mom because Breckin Roberts seemed to hate me, and I couldn’t figure out why.”
I push back my hair and inhale deeply. I hid from her. I spent most of the summer between sixth and seventh grade travelling with Elias. We came back, and when school started, I saw Vivienne in the hallway and nearly threw up. My stomach dropped and shook, like I was in a space shuttle. I’d chalked it up to a crush when it didn’t stop after a week. Every time I saw her, I felt crazy.
I look at Elias. His mouth forms a small grin, and his eyes shine with suppressed laughter. “You knew,” I breathe.
Vivienne’s head whips to my “uncle.”
“I suspected.”
“Suspected? For how long?” I ask.
“From the first time you met.”
Vivienne gasps, and I fish her hand out from the sleeve of her sweater and interlace our fingers. “Tell us.”
Elias’s grin drops. “I wasn’t there. You were with a nanny at the time, Kathy I think it was, and she said you two went for a walk at the park. Vivienne and her mom were there. She gushed on and on about how inseparable you two were. It could have been two toddlers just playing, but—”
His eyes narrow meaningfully, and I pick up what he wasn’t saying. He knew. He knew she was different.
“You think we were always connected, then?” Vivienne asks.
“I think you were. Like I said, soul mates are forever. Somehow you two were able to ignore the attraction. I imagine it was easier to resist because you’d felt it from such a young age.”
Vivienne and I share a glance. There’s no denying the attraction anymore. And there are no easy answers when discussing things pertaining to destiny and creation.
“If you suspected we were soul mates, why didn’t you say something to me that first night? You made me think we could fix everything by erasing her memories.” Why is he keeping things from me?
Elias scratches his beard and blows out a long exhale. “I hoped I was wrong. I wanted the memory erasure to work, Breckin. I didn’t want to see either of you put into this situation.”
His eyes meet mine, and they’re filled with words he will not speak. This will be trouble.
He warned me that first night, but I thought he was worried about my healing her, or my exposing myself. No, he’s worried for us. I give him a nearly imperceptible nod, letting him know I understand.
Vivienne clears her throat and shimmies—like she’s shaking off a pall. “So, Elias. An angel who runs a business flying people on high adventure ski courses. It almost feels like an inside joke.”
I choke on the sip of water I just took. For his part, Elias just leans back and snorts, his eyes watching Vivienne again with a gleam that I can only think of as pride.
“It was a joke. In a way.”
Vivienne laughs lightly. “In a way?”
“Elias can’t fly, Viv,” I explain, unable to keep myself from wincing. An angel’s wings are irreplaceable. They are their own life force. They speak their own language. How Elias manages without his has always amazed me. Vivienne’s face contorts. I can read the questions she’s too afraid to ask in her expressive eyes.
“It was years ago, a fight with things best left unsaid, for now,” Elias says.
Unsaid, for now. Hopefully, unsaid forever. I don’t want to have to tell Vivienne about all of the scary things that lurk about this world. She hasn’t asked about other creatures, whether from fear or preoccupation, and I’d love it if she never had to find out. Wishful thinking, Breckin.
There’s a sadness in her eyes as she looks at Elias. “I’m sorry.” She offers him a warm smile.
He accepts her smile with one of his own. “It’s not so bad. The business keeps me in the air, and I get to keep an eye on this delinquent.”
“So that’s how you ended up in Havenwood Falls? Breck’s father asked you to watch over him while he’s out doing . . . things?”
“Things?” Elias laughs, but agrees.
But that’s not true. Elias was in Havenwood Falls way before I was born. He was here before he lost his wings, if I remember correctly. Why did he settle here?
The high-pitched screech of Vivienne’s window opening draws a smile to my face. Leaning against the tree outside her apartment, I maintain my focus on the parking lot and sky and wait for her to speak.
“You know I can see you even when you try to cloak yourself, right?”
She never disappoints. We’ve done this all week. I wait for her feisty little jabs like a hungry man waits for dinner. The scent of her freshly washed hair invades my space, and with a last glance around the complex, I turn and walk closer.
“Your neighbors will think you’re crazy if you keep yelling outside at nothing.”
“Breckin, go home and sleep. He’s not here. It’s been four days, and we’ve seen nothing.”
She props her elbows on the sill and leans farther out. Taking the end of her wet hair, I wrap it around my fist and cloak her with me. “I don’t sleep,” I tell her, not for the first time. “And I want to be here. I feel better when I’m near you.” I breathe her in before capturing her mouth with mine. She tastes like cinnamon toothpaste.
“Then come inside,” she says against my lips, her tongue running over my bottom lip.
“That’s not a good idea, Vivie.” Her mom is at work, and the desire between us is too strong.
“It’s a great idea, Breck.” Her hands go around my neck, as though she can yank me in through her window.
Tucking my wings tight against my body, I climb into her room, shutting and locking the window before pulling the curtains closed. I still at Vivienne’s proximity, my back to her.
“I’m not sure which I find more beautiful. You or your wings,” she says softly for my ears only. Her finger grazes the edge of my left wing, and my breath hitches. She’s never touched them. No one has. I close my eyes, yearning for her touch, my feathers straining for it. She moves to the curving slope at the top.
“I am an angel. I am not beautiful.” My voice is as gravelly as Elias’s. I fist her curtain as her entire palm pets down the length of my spine. The baby fine feathers twitch.
“You are my angel, Breckin Roberts, and you are beautiful to me.”
I move quickly—grabbing her body and pinning her on top of her bed—with an angelic passion and need I’ve never known. Vivienne gasps, bucking against me as her eyes sparkle.
“You. Are. My soul.”
Her leg hooks around my calf. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to touch them?” she asks with a breathtaking smile.
“You are my soul, Vivie,” I repeat, lowering my face to hers and brushing her cheek and jaw with my nose, inhaling her scent. “I’m connected to you like no other.”
She trembles beneath me. “I’m connected to you like no other.”
I release her wrists from over her head. Pushing up, I brace myself with one hand and run my palm across her smooth skin. I’ve kept information from her all week, and I’ve run out of time.
“You’re frowning. What’s wrong?” Her warm fingers travel over my ribs and pull me down on top of her.