Chapter 154 My Angel | 047
NOELLE
I stare. And stare. And stare some more.
Azren stands near the bedroom door, dressed in a black fitted t-shirt, dark jeans and black boots. His perfect hair is doing that annoyingly attractive messy thing again, as if he just walked out of a shampoo commercial. The sleeves of the shirt cling to his biceps, and my brain very helpfully notices every single muscle flex when he folds his arms.
He looks less like a man heading to a campus lecture and more like a luxury watch advertisement model. My throat goes dry.
"No," I wince.
Azren raises one brow. "Why not?"
"This," I say, waving a hand at him. "This whole... situation."
He glances down at himself.
"You told me to get dressed."
"I did not say 'dress like the hottest man alive and cause a campus riot,'" I mutter.
He lets out a laugh.
"You're exaggerating."
I give him a long look, and my eye twitches again.
"Yeah…right," I croak.
Azren smirks, clearly pleased with himself. Which only makes me more determined.
"Move," I say, nudging past him and marching straight to his closet.
Behind me I hear his amused voice.
"What exactly are you doing?"
"Fixing this."
I fling open the closet doors and start digging. Azren's wardrobe is... unsurprisingly ridiculous. There are so many expensive jackets, perfectly fitted shirts, and dark elegant coats.
Everything screams dangerous billionaire vampire prince. Which is exactly the problem.
"Do you not own anything normal?" I call over my shoulder.
"Define normal."
"Something that doesn't make people forget how to breathe!"
He chuckles behind me. I keep digging through the hangers. Black. Black. More black.
Of course.
Then suddenly, I freeze. My fingers pull out a piece of fabric that is... aggressively pink.
Bubblegum pink.
My eyebrows slowly rise.
"What," I say carefully, "is this?"
Azren goes very still behind me.
Oh?
Oh, this is interesting.
I turn around, holding it up. It's a sweater. A soft, cozy, V-neck knit that's almost... net-like? Slightly loose and airy. And across the front in ridiculous cursive lettering are the words:
"SOFT BOYS DESERVE FLOWERS."
I blink. Then I look at Azren. He looks like someone just pulled a loaded weapon on him.
"No," he says immediately.
I grin slowly.
"Oh yes."
"No."
I move towards him, holding the sweater up like a trophy.
"This is perfect."
Azren rubs his face with one hand.
"I made a vow never to wear that."
"Why?"
He groans.
"My sister."
"Azalea bought this for you?”
"Yes."
"Then you absolutely have to wear it."
He stares at me like I've personally betrayed him.
"Noelle."
I pout. "Please?"
He sighs heavily. "You're enjoying this far too much."
"Maybe."
He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse before grabbing the sweater from my hands. Then he disappears into the closet.
A moment later I hear rustling, clothes shifting and a drawer sliding. Then Azren steps back out. And my brain immediately glitches.
My husband is wearing white pants, a white T-shirt and the ridiculous bubblegum-pink sweater layered over it, the sleeves rolled to expose his veiny forearms.
The V-neck dips enough to reveal a thin silver chain resting against his sexy collarbone.
And on his feet are… white stylish boots with side zips. He looks like a runway model for an expensive spring collection.
My jaw drops.
"No."
Azren folds his arms.
"What?"
"You look even better."
His dimples flash. “I warned you."
I groan loudly, dragging my hands down my face.
"This is a disaster."
He chuckles and walks towards me.
"Angel."
"No."
"Yes."
"No!"
He reaches out and hooks two fingers into the back of my dress, tugging me gently towards him like a misbehaving child.
"That's enough wardrobe criticism," he says calmly.
I glare up at him.
"You're going to cause a campus-wide hormonal emergency."
"Unlikely."
"Very likely."
He leans down slightly, his eyes amused.
"Didn't you say you had early classes?"
I freeze. Right. Classes.
Oh no.
I grab my bag and spin towards the door.
"Fine," I mutter. "Let's go."
Azren follows right behind me. And as we walk out, I catch a glimpse of him in the hallway mirror. I groan again. This is absolutely ridiculous.
...
Walking into class with Azren beside me is a mistake. A catastrophic, life-altering mistake. I realize this immediately.
Because the second we step through the door, the entire lecture hall goes quiet. Every head turns. And every pair of eyes lands on Azren.
He doesn't notice. Or rather... he notices and simply does not care.
He strolls in with one hand casually in his pocket, the other resting lightly at the small of my back as he guides me towards our seats. The bubblegum pink sweater somehow makes him more noticeable.
Which should be illegal.
I slide into my seat, trying to shrink into invisibility.
Azren drops into the chair beside me, stretching his long legs out slightly under the desk. I can already feel the stares. The girls are whispering too.
Phones are being discreetly lifted. One girl in the front row actually mouths 'oh my god.'
My face heats up.
I lean towards him and whisper, "You are causing a disturbance."
He glances around lazily.
"Am I?"
"Azren!"
He shrugs. Then his hand slides onto my thigh under the desk. I freeze.
His thumb starts tracing slow circles through the fabric of my dress. Goosebumps flood my skin.
"Honey," I whisper.
"Yes, Angel?"
"We're in class."
"I know that."
"That's my thigh."
"Yes."
My face goes even hotter. He just continues tracing lazy patterns. I can't help but wonder what his real mission is. Surely he does have CEO business to handle, doesn’t he? I refuse to believe that he's just being clingy.
In the middle of class, his hand finds mine under the table. It's cold. I turn to look at him, worried. Maybe I was overthinking things. Maybe he just badly needs my comfort. So, I gently rub his hand with both of mine to warm him up.
I try to focus on the lecture at the same time. I really do. But more than half the female population in the room are staring at him like he's the last man alive.
Blue is sitting two seats over. She's biting her lip so hard I'm afraid she might actually draw blood. Her shoulders are shaking.
Traitor.
I grab a piece of paper from my notebook and scribble quickly.
'SEND HELP'
Then I fold it and flick it towards her. She opens it and reads it. Then immediately snorts so loudly that two people turn around.
I glare at her.
She wipes her mouth and writes something before sliding the paper back.
I open it and stare at the words.
‘NO. THIS IS TOO FUNNY.’
I pout at her, miserable. Meanwhile, Azren sneezes. It’s just a normal sneeze. But the weirdest thing happens.
Two other people in the room sneeze immediately after. Then another. And another.
The professor pauses mid-sentence, and Azren blinks slowly.
"...Bless me?" he mutters.
Blue actually covers her face now. The professor clears his throat and continues.
A few minutes later he stops suddenly and looks straight at Azren.
"You."
My husband looks up.
"...Me?"
"Yes. Since you seem very relaxed, perhaps you'd like to answer."
The entire class turns. Azren sighs softly as though he's been mildly inconvenienced.
"What was the question?"
I bury my face in my hands.
The professor repeats it, and Azren leans back in his chair, thinking for a second. Then he answers. And suddenly the room is silent. Because his explanation is... perfect.
The professor stares. Several girls in the room actually sigh. Azren just resumes tracing circles on my thigh.
Eventually class ends. Students begin packing up, and I exhale in relief. But then something even stranger happens. Different girls start approaching. One by one.
"Hey Noelle, we're grabbing coffee later if you want to join."
Another girl walks up to me.
"Actually we're doing a study group tonight."
Then another.
"Some of us are going to the gym later—"
They're all talking to me.
And they're all very deliberately staring at the six-foot-something alpha sitting beside me. Azren isn’t even paying attention!
Once their requests are over, his arm slides around my waist, pulling me closer.
"Angel," he mumbles.
"Hmm?”
"Why do so many people want to spend time with my wife?"
Jerk. He’s pretending not to know. Just then, two familiar figures walk in. Cooper and Blair. I tense up, feeling Azren going rigid. And that’s when I realize who he’s actually here for.
“Alpha, Luna,” Blue leans in to whisper.
“What is it?” Azren asks halfheartedly, still not taking his eyes off Cooper, who hasn’t noticed that someone’s piercing blue eyes are boring into him.
“Security just reached out to me. There are hunters on the premises,” Blue finally drops the bomb, and every cell in my body freezes over.