Exhausted, sheflopped on the cool sand in front of the dune.
Caleb satbeside her and wrapped his wing around her. “I do believe you’vefinally got it, Evie.”
She rested herhead on his shoulder and gazed at the moon. “About time,” she saidwith a yawn. Caleb’s soft feathers protected her from the chillynight air. “I guess we should head home now.”
“No, you’re tootired. Sleep for a while.”
She didn’t needany further persuasion and nuzzled into his warmth.
Evie stirredwith the squawk of a seagull. The sand was cold and damp beneathher. In the half-light, a mist hung ominously over the sea as shespooned with Caleb, him behind her. With his silky wings wrappedaround her, keeping her warm, she drifted back to sleep.
Someone shookher shoulder. “Wake up, sleepy, it’s gone nine.”
She camearound, blinking in the bright sunlight. “What? It was dawn asecond ago.” Evie sat up, raking her fingers through her hair.“Nine? I promised Lucy I’d visit her again today.”
“You weresnoring.”
She faced him.How did he manage to look so unruffled and perfect even aftersleeping on the sand? “I was not.”
He chuckled,and she fake-punched him.
Evie leapt upand brushed at her clothes. She was sure she had sand in herknickers too. “Thanks for everything last night, Caleb.”
“I’m glad Icould help.” He stood too. “Do you feel strong enough for theflight home?”
She circled hershoulders and spread her wings. “Absolutely. Let’s see if I canremember what you taught me.”
Concentrating,she flapped her wings slowly until she felt the air beneath them,then lifted off the ground.
Caleb grinned.“Perfect.” He joined her in the air.
“Come on then,I’ll race you home. I’ve got a date with a warlock later.”
“And I’ve got adate with an angel.”
“If I forget tosay it later, good luck with this one.”
“You too,Evie,” he replied with a puzzling tinge of sadness to his tone.
ChapterSeven
Evie slumped onher sofa in her PJs. Two-thirds of a bottle of cheap red wine saton the coffee table in front of her.
In true BridgetJones style, All By Myself played on repeat in thebackground. She couldn’t be any more of a stereotypical, sad,lonely spinster if she tried.
She textedCaleb, barely able to focus through her alcohol-infused brain.Can you come over?
Sorry, I’mon a date, came the response.
His date withthe angel; she’d forgotten. She hoped it was going better than herswith the sleazeball warlock. He’d seemed so nice and normal atfirst. His poor wife’s face came to mind, crying her eyes out ather husband’s betrayal.
Evie put herphone down and reached for the bottle. Caleb’s gift of a miniaturewitch’s hat sat next to the wine—another reminder of her mistake asif she needed one. She threw the hat across the room.
She swigged thewine from the bottle. It didn’t help numb the pain, the guilt, orthe self-pity.
Her phonetinged. Caleb again. What’s up?
She ignored it.The last thing she wanted to do was ruin his date as well.
Tears ranfreely down her cheeks.
Five minuteslater, it could have been ten, she didn’t care, there was a knockon the window.
Caleb.“Can’t you use the bloody door like everyone else?”
But no one usedthe front door, except for delivery guys. The thought brought onanother batch of tears.
“Are you allright? Can I come in?”
Evie plonkedthe wine bottle on the table, then swiped her cheeks and under hereyes. “I’m fine.” All By Myself reached its crescendo as ifto make her a liar.
Caleb rattledthe window latch, and it opened.
She wishedshe’d locked it, except this high up, it didn’t have a lock.
He climbed infrom the fire escape, eyeing the wine bottle and her no doubtdishevelled appearance. “You’re not.” He stepped over a pile ofclothes as he came towards her. “It looks like a pigsty inhere.”
“Who has timeto tidy up when they’re saving souls?” she snapped. She didn’tusually mind his comments about the state of her flat, but for somereason, his remark grated on her nerves tonight. She blamed thecheap wine.
“I do,” camehis virtuous reply.
“Urgh,whatever.” She glowered at him. “I thought you were on a date.”
“I was, but youdidn’t reply to my text, and I got worried.”
“You needn’thave bothered. I had another shitty date. I’ll get over it.”
“Thewarlock?”
“No, the lying,cheating snake of a warlock.”
“Do you want totalk about it? It might help.”
The kindness inhis eyes showed no judgment. Evie caved.
Caleb satbeside her while she relived the whole sorry story; how the warlockseemed so normal compared to the Fae and the vampire—they’d evenjoked about it. Then his wife had shown up, sobbing her heart out,accusing her of being a marriage-breaker.
Evie reachedfor the wine and drank from the bottle again. Her chipped mug ofuntouched coffee sat on the side table, an unappetising filmfloating on the top.
Caleb raised aneyebrow but didn’t pass comment. Wise man. “It wasn’t your fault,Evie,” he said, his features full of sympathy. “You weren’t to knowhe was married.”
She refused tolisten, hell-bent on drowning herself in a drunken stupor ofself-pity. “Now I’ve gone and ruined your date as well because I’ma pathetic excuse for a would-be angel who’s destined to spendeternity alone.” A melancholic sob escaped her lips.
“You’re notpathetic, and you’re not alone either.” He gently prized the bottlefrom her and placed it on the coffee table. “You have me.” He tookher hand, but she shoved it away. Did he think patting her hand wasgoing to magically make things better? She was a waste of space,always was, always would be.
“Anyway, yousaved me from the most boring date ever,” he said, his tone upbeat.“She was a pleasant enough girl, but she had the personality of asoggy dressing gown sleeve.”
A medley ofdisappointment, frustration and anger simmered inside Evie. Shedidn’t deserve his kindness or his compassion, and she didn’t needhis poor attempt at a joke either.
“Let’s face it,Caleb. I’m never going to become a fully qualified angel if I can’teven sort out my own life. I’m done with that stupid dating agency.I’m never going to find love.” She lurched for the wine bottleagain and brought it to her lips.
“Do you want meto fetch a glass?”
Anger sparkedat his virtuous tone. “No, I don’t want a bloody glass. If I wantto drown my sorrows,
