Page 12 of My Alien Angel (Supernova Casanovas #6)

Fin

Following my question, Omni grows quiet, and I want to smack myself.

I’m such an idiot. Why am I asking about his job?

If he has a cognitive disability, he might not have a job.

He might be permanently unemployable and ashamed of it and, like the idiot that I am, I just put my foot in my mouth in the worst way possible.

“You don’t have to—” I start apologizing.

Shaking his head, Omni interrupts me. “No sorry, Fin. Okay. Complicated.”

Of course it’s complicated. I should keep my mouth shut and not poke my nose into things that aren’t any of my business. “Of course. I’m s—”

“Fin,” he interrupts me again, this time with a playful scowl. “No sorry. Good question. No many words. I work. I, um, fight!” His face lights up when he finds the right word.

“You fight? Like, with your fists?” Is he an MMA fighter? Or a wrestler? Oh my god, that would totally explain the wings.

“Yes and no.”

I chuckle. “Yes and no, meaning sometimes? Sometimes you fight with your fists?”

“Yes. Sometimes. Manytimes I, uh…” Shaking his head, he trails off, clearly unable to express the right thing.

Putting down the fork, Omni raises his hands as if he’s holding something long.

One eye closed, he…takes aim? Then he makes a low-pitched whining sound that sounds nothing like the “pew pew” people usually do when mimicking gunfire, but the message is the same.

“You shoot a rifle? Like a real rifle? At real people?”

My voice betrays my alarm, Omni’s excitement fading. “Yes. I shoot at no good people,” he quickly explains. “Many, many no good.”

“Bad,” I correct him absently. “Very bad people.”

“Yes. I fight very bad people.”

He’s not a sweet, if slightly neurodivergent, guy.

He’s a soldier. A soldier who has killed people before.

Is the cosplay some form of PTSD therapy?

For the first time since bringing Omni home, I’m a little worried about my safety.

“Are you dangerous?” I ask like an idiot, because what could he possibly say?

Dammit, Caleb and Imani were right. I should have called the police.

“Yes,” Omni replies seriously, his eyes never leaving mine. “Dangerous at bad people. No dangerous at good people. No dangerous at you.”

I don’t know how to respond and there must be some pretty alarming emotions showing up in my expression because Omni sighs. “I go. Thank you food. Thank you help. Very thank you, Fin.”

“Wait, what?” Before I realize what’s happening, Omni is halfway to the door. Rushing to stop him, I grab his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“I go,” Omni replies softly, pointing at the door. “You afraid. I go. You no afraid. No call police, please.”

“I…just wait, okay? Give me a second. You can’t just drop a bomb like that on me and not give me a minute to process it!

” The azure blue of his eyes seems a few shades lighter now that we’re standing straight under the overhead light.

Omni patiently waits while I force my mind to go over his revelation.

He’s a soldier who has killed people. It’s not like he’s the first to return home with his mind a little damaged from it all.

I’ve never felt unsafe with him. He’s never done anything remotely threatening, never forced me into anything, so why should I be afraid of him now?

I also have to keep reminding myself that despite the odd way Omni speaks and acts, he’s not stupid.

Quite the opposite. He’s intelligent and emotionally mature, especially since he sensed his admission made me uncomfortable and was willing to leave just so I would feel safe.

When I really think about it, there’s only one conclusion to make.

“I’m not afraid of you, Ka’Omnireth.” His slightly pointed pupils widen at my admission and I can’t help but wonder how his contacts do that.

It’s like magic. “I probably should be afraid but I’m not.

I was just startled by what you said. Not that there’s anything wrong with fighting for your country or against bad people.

Is this why you don’t want me to call anyone?

Because those bad people might find you?

” Should I be worried that someone is after Omni and will come after me as well?

Omni sighs. “Complicated. No words.” He points at the TV. “Many words, I say.”

“When you’ve learned more words, you’ll tell me what’s going on?” I guess.

“Yes. You big head.”

Laughing, I playfully poke his shoulder. “That better mean you think I’m smart because telling someone they have a big head is not a compliment.”

Omni’s smile is a little shy, but at least he’s no longer somber. “Yes. You smart. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. And I’m not that smart. Now, my friend Imani, she’s a genius. She studies black holes and other cool space stuff.” I can’t even say how much I admire that woman.

“You smart also. And good. You very good.”

Damn, how could I have been afraid of this man even for a second? He’s such a sweetheart. “Alright, big guy. Let’s finish dinner and then we can watch something on TV so you can learn more words.”

He still hesitates, gazing into my eyes as if he could find the answers to his many unspoken questions in them. “You no afraid?”

“No, I’m not afraid,” I reply, sure of my answer. “Come on, let’s finish dinner. I know you’re still hungry.”

Omni rumbles a laugh but doesn’t dispute my claim.

Damn, this guy has an appetite. I’ll have to order more groceries.

Grabbing my phone to do just that, I notice four messages and a missed call from Imani from when I was in the shower earlier.

Omni must have heard it ringing, but he probably didn’t know what it meant.

It’s funny how I don’t even find that weird anymore.

Worried that Imani has already called the police or done something equally stupid, I dial her number.

“Infinity!” she yells at me the second she picks up. “Why are you not answering your phone? I was worried!”

“I’m fine,” I mumble around a mouthful of pasta.

Omni raises his brows in a silent question but I just roll my eyes and wave my hand, hopefully conveying that everything is okay and that it’s just my overprotective friend calling to make sure I’m still alive.

On second thought, I doubt anyone can convey that in simple hand gestures, so I cover the microphone and whisper, “It’s just my friend, everything is fine. ”

“I told you to message me,” Imani chides.

“I messaged you this morning like you asked me to, and yes, I was probably supposed to message you when I got home tonight but I just forgot. I’m sorry. Everything is fine. I’m alive. The building didn’t burn down. All good on this end.”

Imani heaves a relieved sigh and though I can’t see her, I just know she’s rubbing the bridge of her nose under her glasses. “What about your guest?”

“My guest is currently leading a fierce battle against a plate of spaghetti.” I chuckle as I watch the pasta slip from Omni’s fork for the third time in a row.

Lifting his head, he pierces me with a mock-glare before going for an attempt number four.

“The spaghetti is winning,” I tell Imani. “Everything is fine, I promise.”

“And you’re not just saying that because he’s holding you hostage?”

I can’t stop the snort that escapes me because at this point, it’s more like I’m the one holding Omni hostage.

Not ready to share this revelation with my friends, I say nothing.

I might tell them more about Omni later but first, I need to digest the information myself and after the day I’ve had, I don’t want to deal with a furious Imani or the once-in-a-blue-moon serious Caleb.

“No, he’s not holding me hostage. Wait, isn’t that what I’d say if he was actually holding me hostage?

What am I supposed to say to prove he’s really not holding me hostage?

” Huh. This is not a situation I ever thought I’d have to deal with.

“I’m glad to be of amusement to you,” Imani grumbles, taking my silence as confirmation I’m okay.

“Next time you drag home someone dangerous, I’ll hold off on calling the police until your rotting corpse is all bloated and stinking so badly that your landlord will never be able to rent your apartment out again. ”

Since I know she’s just venting to release her pent up fear on my behalf, my reply is equally outlandish and ridiculous.

“Oh please! We both know at least a dozen people who would love to live in a rent controlled apartment like this, regardless of whether someone died in it or not, stench included. Seriously, though. Thank you for caring, Imani. You’re a great friend and I’m sorry for not checking in sooner, but I’m beyond exhausted.

I’m not really in the mood to talk tonight, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to go crash in front of the TV.

I’ll text you in the morning... If I survive the night,” I can’t help but add.

This time, it’s Omni who’s rolling his eyes but he doesn’t comment, focusing instead on bringing a forkfull of the finally captured spaghetti to his mouth.

As he slurps in the escapees, more sauce ends up on the front of his coveralls and, yeah, I will have to acquire more clothes for him.

Pants won’t be a problem, I can just get some stretchy sweatpants in approximately the right size, but he can’t wear a T-shirt with his wings on.

When washing his coveralls yesterday, I noticed they had two slits running up the back, ending in odd-looking clasps at the base of his neck.

The clasps weren’t difficult to figure out, though I’ve never seen a similar design before.

The material of the coveralls felt strange, too.

Thinner than my leggings, yet extremely durable.

Could it be some type of specialized military gear that hasn’t been released to the public yet?

Watching Omni chase the spaghetti around the plate with his fork is the peak of cuteness, reminding me of the original problem.

He absolutely cannot be walking around here shirtless.

I’m barely holding back from making a move on him as it is.

If he were shirtless right now, I’d probably melt into a puddle of horny goo.

He needs a shirt. With slits down the back because it’s become absolutely clear the wings are not coming off.

I don’t know of any shops that cater to angels in the area but, fortunately, I know just the right person who can help me.

Me: Caleb, can you make some clothes for my houseguest, please? Something with wing slits?[text bubble]

Caleb hand-makes all of his own costumes and every single one is stunning. I’m sure that a shirt with wing slits won’t be an issue for him.

Caleb: I think him walking around naked would be a much better sight, but sure. What size is he?[text bubble]

Me: No idea. His coveralls don’t have any tags. But he’s bigger than you.[text bubble]

Caleb: *shocked face emoji* That’s what she did NOT say![text bubble]

Caleb: Bigger in which area?[text bubble]

My snort has Omni raising his head but he returns to his food when I wave it off dismissively.

Me: All of them.[text bubble]

Caleb: Pics or it didn’t happen[text bubble]

Me: It didn’t happen. He’s about a foot taller than me, so like 6ft5, and has really broad shoulders. Just make him something loose that he can wear because I can’t have him walking around here half naked.[text bubble]

Caleb: That hot?[text bubble]

Blushing, I peek over at Omni, wondering if he can somehow read my thoughts, but he’s focused on his meal. I send a row of flame emojis to Caleb, certain he’ll get the message.

Caleb: On it, though it’s a crime to cover such a perfect body. Does he ever take the wings off?[text bubble]

Me: Never[text bubble]

Caleb: Totally an alien[text bubble]

I hate that that thought is gnawing at me as if there was an actual possibility of Omni being an alien.

Aliens don’t exist! Only crazy people like my parents actually believe in them and, while I might share their DNA, I refuse to share their craziness.

I might love losing myself in all kinds of fictional worlds but that’s what they are.

Fictional. Aliens don’t fall from the sky in the middle of the desert, they don’t sleep on my couch, and they don’t eat spaghetti at my table.