Page 24 of I Accidentally Summoned a Demon Boyfriend

“Not everyone believes in demons. I know I didn’t until...” I trailed off.

“Until you hopped on me?” He laughed and exposed his horns.

“You can put those away.” I rolled my eyes and waited for the horns to vanish again. “The others don’t know, and Keri has her reasons for that response.”

“Sounds like you’re making excuses for her,” he challenged me while his eyes moved to look out the window.

“I’m not. See, it’s been about a decade, but there was a time when I had a mental break. I was seeing things, imagining all sorts of freaky shit that caused me to have a break with reality and disrupted my life. She was there for me, but it took a lot for me to come out of it.” It hurt to remember what was the most difficult time in my life. “Keri is just afraid all that messiness is going to happen again. I’m afraid that it will ruin our friendship if it does.”

“Hmm.” He looked at me in that critical way. He was on a mission to investigate a mystery. I was that mystery. “What was it like? Your break with reality.”

“They call it derealization,” I started and paused. “I saw other worlds, creatures and strange alien-like people. There were times when I was so detached, it felt like I was on another world entirely. I felt like I lived four full lives in the span of a few months, and when I came back to my true reality, I broke. I couldn’t believe anything was real. I couldn’t fathom that the lives I had in those other worlds were all a fabrication of my imagination.”

“That sounds heartbreaking.” Metice moved closer to me. His body radiated heat that calmed my stirring spirit. I said nothing, because on some level, I wanted him closer. Thinking about that time in my life was painful, so any comfort in that moment was welcome.

“It was. I had to mourn the loss of so many relationships that never really happened.” My mind went back to those days of looking in the mirror and seeing my young face again. I’d lived a long life; I had a family in one of those worlds. Then, I woke up one day, and I was back in my suburban home, and everyone around me acted as if nothing had happened. “And I’ve been in therapy ever since. Luckily, I found someone who didn’t make me feel like it was wrong to miss those people and mourn the relationships.”

“I see.”

“What is it?” When I looked at him, I saw it again: he knew more than he let on.

“Nothing. Just a thought, but it’s probably unfounded.” He shifted his weight away from me. “You should get some more rest. I won’t keep you awake any longer.”

Metice abruptly stood and left me there alone on the couch. It made no sense, but that stinging pain of embarrassment sparked in my chest. I placed my hand over the ache and looked at the door where he’d exited. Of course, it felt shitty. I’d just revealed that I had one toe in the crazy house, and he ran away. How else was I supposed to feel?

The next two days went the same way. Breakfast together, alone for the day, and dinner with an abrupt ending after a revealing conversation. I kept telling myself I wouldn’t tell him so much about me, but I’m a chatter head after a good meal. Each feast was far too much food for me to eat alone, and most of it went back into a bag at the end of the night. I wanted to ask him what he did with the leftovers but was afraid he’d say he just dumped it outside somewhere. A disgustingly wasteful act.

The third day was different. When I exited my bedroom to join him for dinner, I found the table set for two. There were two plates, both filled with fresh cuts of steak, potatoes, vegetables I couldn’t identify, and a glass of wine.

“What’s this?” I looked at the modest meal. “No burgers?”

“You didn’t seem to enjoy the food last night. Thought you might want something different.” He pulled out my chair for me to sit. “If you don’t like it, I can get something else.”

“No. This is fine.” I sat in the offered chair. “Where is this from?”

“It’s not from your world,” he answered shortly. “I’m not sure you want to know much more than that.”

“Um.” I looked from the plate to him as he sat across from me. “Is this safe for me to eat?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t have brought it for you if I didn’t think it was safe.” He lifted his glass. “Trust me, its fine,”

“Right.” I was skeptical. How would my body digest this food? All I could imagine was having my bowels blow out in hell. Not ideal.

“Would you like me to take the first bite?” he offered.

“I’m not sure what that would prove.” I took a deep breath and cut into the steak. With Metice watching, I popped the piece into my mouth, and as the flavors danced across my tongue, I moaned. “Oh my God.”

“There you go again, praising your god,” he teased. “I told you I don’t like it when you do that.”

“You said not to do it when looking at your dick. This steak isn’t your dick.” I popped another piece in my mouth and wiggled in my seat. “What is this? It just melts on my tongue.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” He leaned back in his chair watching me.

I sipped from the drink, ate some of the potatoes, and then turned back to the meat. After a few more bites and sips of the drink that was stronger than I gave it credit for, I just couldn’t take the idea of eating it alone. It was blowing my mind how the flavors shifted each time. First, it was savory, and then, there was a hint of sweetness, and the third bite brought a touch of spice. It was the perfect combination.

“You have to try this.” I stood up from my seat with a piece of steak hanging from my fork.

“What are you doing?” Metice looked at me like I was losing my mind. “I have my own. Sit down.”

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