Angel (Maximum Ride 7)
“About that being-with-me thing,” I asked. “Why is that, really? Because if there’s a little bot gene inside of you that says ‘Me want Max’ all day long, I’m telling you right now, that’s just gross. I’m not interested.”
He watched me intently, and I wasn’t sure if I felt like prey or predator.
“See?” I jumped in. “Time’s up. You have no idea why you like me.”
Dylan smiled and reached out, gently taking my hand. “Well, for starters… you’re kind of beautiful.”
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Saving the world doesn’t give you a whole lot of time to look in the mirror. I’d done it maybe half a dozen times at most in the past year, most of the time to wipe blood off my face and check out injuries.
He couldn’t be serious.
“You have no idea how dumb that sounds, Dylan.” I snorted and pulled my hand away. “I guess you’re too adolescent to understand that girls want you to like them for who they are, not how they look.”
Dylan shrugged. “I said ‘for starters.’ You didn’t let me finish.”
“So… be my guest.” I tapped my fingers playfully on the railing as his eyes bored more deeply into mine.
“Waiting…” I said in a singsongy, now slightly jittery voice. He was moving toward me slowly, as if giving me a chance to protest. I didn’t.
“Can we… talk about that later?” he asked. “I’m kind of…
distracted right now.”
But he couldn’t have been more focused.
I didn’t move—my back was against the safety bars. He touched my cold cheek with one hand, then pushed my damp hair away from my face. He ran his fingers down my tangly mop as if it were a strand of pearls.
When he looked back into my eyes, his expression gave me a little jolt.
“Um…” I said.
Then he stepped even closer and tilted his head slightly to one side, his eyes still locked on mine. I was frozen in place as his mouth touched mine and he kissed me. He was strong and warm and solid, and he gathered me to him, an arm around my waist. I didn’t remember making a decision, but my arms found their way around his neck as he kissed me harder, holding me close in the mist.
And for a long time, it was just the two of us, silhouetted against the Paris skyline, the night deepening around us.
And it felt… right.
And kind of beautiful.
63
I AM NOT Miss Savvy about romantic relationships. The only one I’ve ever really had was with Fang, and, I admit, it was kind of strange to fall in love with someone I had grown up with. So I was quietly freaked out about kissing Dylan. Eventually, it dawned on us that we were really hungry, so we’d flown back to the hotel together, only to find everyone walking down the street to a little crepe place on the corner.
I’d felt Fang’s sharp gaze studying our faces as we sat down, Dylan’s leg warm against mine, and I started to feel self-conscious. Then I remembered what Angel had said: he could stay and weigh in, or leave and keep his mouth shut. That made me sit up straighter, and I smiled at Angel as I asked her to pass the bread. I didn’t know what all this meant, didn’t know where it was going, but for the time being, at least I wasn’t running away screaming. Which was progress.
After dinner (which was fabulous—ham and cheese and potato crepe), we all walked back to the hotel together. Angel and I fell behind and were talking quietly while the others went ahead. I was half paying attention to what she was saying and half reliving kissing Dylan.
And I’m sure you already realize what I didn’t remember till it was too late: Angel can read minds. And she isn’t too particular about who’s mind it is or when she reads it.
She took my hand. I looked down at her and saw that she had grown three inches, like, in the past couple months. “I’m sorry this is so hard, Max,” she said. “I know it’s all confusing.
“And I know how much you love Fang,” she said, surprising me. “But that just doesn’t seem possible anymore, you know?”
I made some sort of strangled noise—I was getting relationship advice from a seven-year-old. Because she knew more than I did. A new low.
“Max, we know how much you’ve done for us,” she continued, my mind reeling. “You’ve made so many sacrifices for us, risked your life so many times. In a way, letting Dylan love you is another sacrifice—one you would make not just for us but for the future of the whole world.”
Okay, now I was seriously wigging out. Was Angel saying I should flit off to Germany and have eggs with Dylan? I mean, WTH?