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“Church?” Interesting. I bet it's a cool code name. I wonder what he did to get it. He runs his hand across the top of his head, like he’s frustrated. His hair is dark but buzzed down. Bet it feelsgood against the palm of your hand. Where the heck did that thought come from?
“Call me Abel.”
I smile. Why does it make me feel special that I got a second name from him?
“It kind of goes with Church.”
He grunts a response. “You can name him if you want.” Abel motions toward the kitten. I’m actually not sure he’s a kitten. I think he’s in-between.
“Really?” I reach out and pet him. I chew on my bottom lip. “This sounds like a lot of pressure.”
“Think on it.”
“Because I’m going to be here for a bit?”
Abel shrugs at me.
“I don’t like when you do that.”
“Do what?” He steps back. I'm noticing that he'll get close to me, then drift away again. It's as though he’s unsure of where he should be. Which isn’t fitting. Abel is definitely a man who knows where he belongs, and if he doesn’t belong there, he’ll do it anyway.
“Not answer me.” Do I sound pouty? I’m sure I do. I’m sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor, playing with a kitten with teddy bear pajamas on. Do adults call them pajamas? What the heck do I know? “Never mind. It’s fine.” I swiftly express my thoughts before he has the chance to respond. Not that he is going to, or if he does, it takes forever.
“I answer.” From the corner of my eye, I glance back at him. I try not to stare right at him. Then I might drool or make a fool of myself. It’s easier not to embarrass myself by doing something dumb like shooting him with my dorky finger guns.
“It’s fine.” This time, it’s me who shrugs. I’ll keep to myself and not bother him.
“Are you hungry?” I shake my head no. “I can cook.” This man continues to surprise me. I want to ask so many more questions, but I just shake my head again, pulling the kitten into my lap. He curls up into a little ball. “I’ll make something in case.” I don’t respond. “I got you a TV." His boots cross in front of me. My head stays down on the kitten.
Did he say he got me a TV? “You can use this.” He hands me a tablet. I accept it. "There's no internet available on that device, but it's filled with movies and shows."
“Thanks.” I’m not a total brat. In all honesty, I didn’t know I could be a brat at all. I took care of myself for the most part. But there is something about this man that’s bringing it to the forefront. He continues to stand in front of me. It takes everything I have not to look up. Jesus, even his boots are big.
“Angel.” My name comes out almost as a whisper. I never imagined this hulk of a man could speak in such a soft tone. I slowly lift my head. If I thought he towered over me before, I was wrong. Holy crap. I swear it takes my eyes forever to meet his.
“Yeah?” His brows furrow together. He rubs his hand on top of his head again.
“Nothing.” Abel shakes his head then walks toward the kitchen area.
The loft is a massive open area. There is a wall that blocks part of where the bed is, but it doesn’t go all the way to the ceiling or around. You can just step around the wall.
The only area that I think is closed off fully are a few closets or bathrooms. What else could some of those doors go to if the floor plan is open to everything else? It’s actually pretty cool, and I see why someone would like it if they lived alone. But we’re not alone.
It has to be getting dark. Which means sleep? I can’t tell how late it is. The thick curtains over the windows hide any light that might come in. I pick the kitten up and put him in a bed with his bowls next to it.
When I pull back one of the curtains, I’m met with blackness. I touch it. It’s cool like glass, but I can’t see anything. It’s not that dark out. What the hell is this?
“Looking for something?” I spin around, dropping the curtain. I feel like I was caught doing something I shouldn’t be.
“Wanted to see how late it was.”
“It’s ten.”
“What is with the windows?”
“They are sealed.” I shift on my feet.
“What if there is a fire?” The door we entered is near the kitchen.