Page 45 of Endlessly Raphael

“I don’t follow.”

“Similar people hang out together, so how does someone wicked hot meet someone average or less?”

“I’ve never given it any thought.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’m shallow.”

“I don’t think so. You’re just an observer. I am too, in many ways, but not so much on an external level.”

“That’s not how I got you to rail me that first night?”

He snorts a laugh. “Your face captured my attention, yes, but your energy really drew me in. Your confidence is a turn-on.”

I lean in and brush our noses together. “I’m glad I caught your eye.”

“So am I.”

After breakfast, the two of us sit on the couch. I lean into Rapha, just enjoying the closeness. I can’t remember the last time I cuddled with someone. Damn, it’s nice.

“Do you think we should dress up?” I ask with my hand under Rapha’s shirt. Dragging my fingers through the hair on his chest, I peer up. “Is that too much?”

“We should.” He puts his hand on my chest, over my heart. “Is that excitement or worry making your heart beat so loudly?”

“You can hear my heartbeat?”

He nods. “I have very sensitive hearing. Scent. Taste. Sight.”

“That’s kind of cool.” I blow out a breath. “It’s excitement. I promise. Maybe a little worry about my family showing up, but they’d literally have to stalk the courthouses to figure out where we are.”

“You know, we could just invite them.”

I pull my head back. “Eww. No way. Why would I do that?”

“It shows you’re not hiding anything. As unpleasant as it will likely be, at least it’ll be done. They’ll have their proof, and then we can go celebrate with our friends. Besides, you won’t be facing them alone.”

I wonder if he can hear how my heart just fluttered in my chest, like I chugged an energy drink—jittery, but not unpleasant. “I don’t want to, but I think you’re right.”

He drags his fingers through my hair. “Sometimes in life we have to do hard, unpleasant things, but once it’s done, we find it was worth the discomfort.”

“Yeah, yeah. Maturity sucks sometimes.”

Raphael chuckles. “It does.”

SEVENTEEN

Raphael

Watching Haven pace my living room while he talks to his mother requires a great deal of restraint on my part. His whole being is engulfed in stress, worry, and even shame. I hate that his family can draw these emotions out in him, but gods, can I relate. It may have been centuries ago, but the pain of losing my family never truly fades.

I can hear the woman’s voice, a mixture of happiness and worry as she speaks to Haven. I detect love flowing from her even through the phone line, but there’s hesitation too. Likely the father’s influence.

Haven ends the call a few seconds later and turns to me, clutching the phone. “My mother will arrange it.” He bites his bottom lip, letting his teeth drag sharply over it. “She’s insisting we come to dinner tomorrow.” He furrows his brow, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s tradition. It would be pretty sus if I don’t do it.”

“Sus?”

“Suspect. Suspicious. Weird. I hate to make you go through it though. Actually, I hate to make myself go through it.”

“Come.”