“Hm?”
“Some guys call all women a pet name, baby, sweetheart, sugar, you know?”
“Ah.”
“Do you, uh… do you call anyone else Angel?”
“Never. Why?”
“Never?”
“Nope. Why?”
“Maybe it’s not the awesome name I thought it was if it’s not just mine.”
“It’s just yours. You have the face of an angel. You’re trying to be a perfect one.” I felt him shrug.
“Thank you for saving me. And for giving me that name. Now that I know that it feels even more like it’s mine.”
He gave me a squeeze.
“Please keep me,” I whispered before thinking, pouring everything I had into the plea. After a too-long pause I wished I could snatch it back. So much for my long logical speech.
But then he said, “I’m thinkin’ about it. I’m beating myself up for it but gotta say, I’m tempted.”
“Then I have to keep being you
