Page 60 of Oh, Hell No

Twenty-Seven

Oz

“When I asked you to choose something, I wasn’t aware it was going to be this difficult,” I said, amused by the length of time it was taking Winslet to decide on a movie or show on Netflix. According to my app, our food would be here in five minutes.

She cut her eyes at me. “I normally go for crime shows or murder mysteries, but I have decided to cut those out,” she explained. “I have no idea what is good.”

I remembered the Satan show she had been watching on Saturday night. No, not Satan.Lucifer.

“What aboutLucifer?” I suggested. Since she now believed I’d stopped for a visit while she was drunk, it was safe to admit I knew she had been watching it that night.

She flicked her pretty brown eyes back at me. “That falls squarely in the center of crime TV.”

It did?

She must have read the confusion on my face, and she smiled.

“You’ve never seen it, have you?”

I shook my head.

“Then, why did you suggest it?”

Curious little bee. I wasn’t mad about it. She was smart. That would help me keep her safe.

“Saturday night,” I offered.

Her nose scrunched. “Right. Keep forgetting that.”

There was a little guilt there that I was lying to her, but she didn’t trust me. I was sure she wouldn’t handle it well that I’d been coming to check on her nightly for the past two months. Although I had potentially saved her life numerous times.

“How isLucifercrime TV?” I asked her just because I liked it when she talked. Get her explaining something, and she got animated.

Just like I had predicted, her eyes lit up, and she pulled her legs up onto the sofa, crossing them. That position reminded me of what I’d watched her do on Sunday right in that very spot. My dick twitched, and I shifted to try and give it more room in my jeans as it grew more.

“Well, Lucifer is tired of being in hell. He is bored and defies his father, God, and leaves his throne and moves to Los Angeles.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Wait, are you serious? This is the plot?”

She bit her bottom lip, grinning, then let it go. “Yes. Listen. Okay, so he gets his own nightclub and ends up in the middle of a murder investigation. And the homicide detective?”

“Wait. I got this. She’s a smoking hot woman that he gets the hots for and starts helping her solve crimes since he is the devil and knows shit. All the while, she has no clue she is fucking Satan himself. Then, it isRosemary’s Babyall over again.”

Her eyes slightly narrowed. “You were kinda on track there, and I thought you’d been lying and had seen it, but theRosemary Baby’sthing has thrown me off.”

I reached for the remote to find the show. She liked it. I could tell. And the only reason she wasn’t watching crime shows was because of me. I didn’t like knowing I had taken something from her that she enjoyed. I was going to fix it.

“Rosemary’s Babyis an old black-and-white horror movie, where the woman has the Devil’s spawn,” I explained.

“Oh. No. It’s not horror. Lucifer Morningstar is hot. She already has a daughter from her previous marriage.”

I clicked on it.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I put the remote down on the other side of me. “Picking our show.”

“But it is crime, and I am serious about needing to cut that out. My imagination is getting the best of me.”

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