Page 13 of My Saintly Demon

“Just… don’t sneak up on me next time.”

“Oh, so there’s anext timeI get to walk into the bathroom and hand you a towel while you’re dripping wet naked?”

I scrub the towel over my skin as he stands there, assessing me with his dancing blue eyes. I’m not sure if he’s joking, to be honest, so I choose to ignore the question. If he hasn’t figured out that he can have me naked, wet or dry, anytime or place, he might be too dense for me to deal with.

“Matthew was looking for you.”

“Mmm, I heard. Thanks for getting rid of him for me.”

“You’re welcome. Now, what’s this about needing to pack and leave?”

Tossing the towel on the counter, I squeeze past him back to my room, and he trails behind me like a puppy.

“Well, Matthew, is the guy making me leave. You see, we were involved, and it was getting a little dicey for him to be found out. He wants to keep his reputation immaculate, right? So he’s kicking me out and bribing me before I have time to tell my story.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand. “Listen, he’s an asshole. I know that, but like, I’m getting out of here. I should have done it years ago.”

Rummaging through my dresser, I pull out a pair of clean underwear before emptying the rest of the drawer into the suitcase on my bed.

“And I won’t let him force me to do anything else to make him look good. I’m a little tired of it, you know?”

Hopping on one foot while I tug the underwear on, I notice his eyes trained on me and oof… it’s not fucking possible for me to be horny again so soon. Like biologically, I mean. But…

“You never told me your name,” I say, instead of thinking of him purringmyname across his lips as he comes.

He hands me a t-shirt from the pile on the bed and looks away. Is he… nah, he can’t be embarrassed. Is he?

“Uh, it’s Dave.”

“Dave. Not Satan or Lucifer or something more sinister?”

“Well, those are already taken, so I’m just Dave.”

“Excuse me,just Dave, you’re not just anything. What’s your dad’s name?”

“Does it matter?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

He clears his throat, shifting as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Listen, Charles, I, ah, sort of need your help.”

Pausing at the closet, I turn my head his way.

“I’m listening, Dave.”

Ugh, my voice still takes that pious tone I used for confessional and I hate it. But Dave’s shoulders relax and even though I’m in a hurry to get out of here, I can’t ignore how he seems to need someone to listen to him.

Sitting on the bed, I tap it gently in invitation, and he takes it. Reaching into his suit coat, he pulls out a small, very worn book with a sigh.

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

“You just watched me jerk off and smeared margarine on my ass to do it. I think we’re way beyond the embarrassment factor here.”

He shifts his gaze my way, and the temperature rises in the room. His nostrils flare and little pointy nubs show themselves on this head. It’s cute. Reminds me of the catfish I used to catch as a kid.

“Right, and we’re going to come back to that, but first I need your help.” He flips open the tiny book and stops at a dog-eared page. If that’s not a literary crime, I don’t know what is. “I was trying to figure out what I can do when I leave the church. I’m supposed to avoid anything holy, so I should probably get out of here. But, um, I mentioned I’m not a good demon. Like I’m so good it’s bad.” He sighs and it sort of breaks my heart. “My father sent me here to learn to be more… like you, I guess? As a demon, I’m pretty sucky.”

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