Fallen Angel Read Online Free PDF Page B

leave naked tweedle dee and tweedle dick behind, I pick up my phone and answer without even checking who it is. I never do. I like the element of surprise. Plus, my competitive side likes to challenge the charming side to see how fast I can recognize a girl just by the sound of her voice.
    “What’s up?”
    “ Shit .” It was hardly even audible, but it was enough.
    “Bam Bam?”
    “I was kinda expecting you to let it go to voicemail.”
    Damn, that had to have been in record time. “Why would I let it go to voicemail?”
    “Because. It’s Friday night. I figured on you being out. But, it’s kinda quiet for a hoppin’ night club. Are you at home?”
    I didn’t even realize it was Friday. “Um, yeah.”
    “Damn, Angel. You’re not the wild rock star the tabloids make you out to be.” She sighs dramatically. “So disappointing.”
    Even over the phone I can totally picture the face she’s making on the other end of the line, and I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, okay. Did you call for anything in particular or just to give me shit for turning into a more boring version of my tabloid self?”
    Silence.
    “Bam Bam?”
    “Well, it’s just...I wanted to leave it in a message. I was all prepared. I made notes. I rehearsed it. It just feels like all that effort is going to waste by having this conversation. Live. With each other. Minus the automated voice.”
    I shake my head, smiling. “Would you like to hang up and call back?”
    “I really would.” I can hear muffled movements and then suddenly she pops back on, “Just to be clear, this time you won’t answer.”
    “I will not,” I agree. Then, a satisfied sound hums through the phone line before I hear the click and she’s gone.
    Still chuckling, I sit there, staring at my phone, waiting for it to ring again. When it does, I’m fully prepared to hit dismiss call and send it straight to voicemail. Only...I don’t.
    “Hello?”
    “What the fuck, asshole? We had a deal!” She huffs loudly and I bet her hands are balled up in fists and stacked fiercely on that tiny waist of hers as we speak.
    “I know, but as you pointed out so acutely, I’m home. Alone. And I’m bored.” I lean back into my pillows and turn the TV off for good.
    “I’m sure all it would take is a solid flick of your finger down your call log and you could drum up all sorts of entertainment.”
    “No doubt. That’s just not the type of entertainment I’m looking for tonight.” I can hear her move again on the other end. Judging by the creaking wood and the quiet squeak of a mattress, she’s in bed as well.
    “And what sort of entertainment is it exactly that you’re looking for?” she probes.
    “The Bam Bam kind. So, you see, my options are pretty limited.”
    She makes a noise that sounds like an escaped giggle she tried to recapture. “Yeah, I guess they are.”
    “So, are you ever going to tell me what you called me for?” I switch to speaker, letting the phone rest in my lap. Her caller Id picture’s still on my screen. It’s the one linked to her email account, so I didn’t assign it to her and I’ve never looked at it before now. She’s sitting outside somewhere, with a book, like she’s trying to read but whoever took the picture was distracting her. She’s smiling. Not at the camera, but at the person behind it. And for an instant, I catch myself wondering what it would be like if it was me.
    “Angel, I can’t tell you what I called you for,” she grumbles quietly.
    “Why not?” I still can’t take my eyes off her face on my screen. How have I never noticed those brown eyes before? I always knew they were pretty, but they’re so much more. It’s like all of her is buried inside them. Sparks. Sadness. Smiles. Fierceness. They’re all in there and they’re captivating.
    I really need to stop looking at her picture.
    “I can’t tell you because you’ll laugh. Which is why I wanted to leave the message. So you could laugh, and I wouldn’t