Page 8 of Unbinding the Demon
I wanted to slap the mischievous grin right off his handsome face. “She’s not my friend. And what the actual fuck? Why did you tell her that we were on a date and all that other weird stuff? I don’t even know you!” I gestured to where Cassandra had been in frustration.
“I thought it would be amusing. Turns out I was right,” he answered with a relaxed shrug, but merriment twinkled in his golden eyes. “Besides, who knows? Perhaps this could be a date?”
“Well, I didn’t think it was amusing at all! It was embarrassing, and she’s a gossip! And how could this possibly be a date? As I said, I don’t know you or even your name for that matter! Slipping into someone’s booth uninvited does not mean that you are on a date with them! This is not a date!” I snapped, my sleep-deprived grouchiness coming out in full force.
“So this, happening right now…” his long finger lazily pointed between us. “Isn’t a date? And you’re certain of this?” he asked in a low, pseudo-serious voice.
“Yes, of course I am! Don’t be ridiculous! This is one hundred percentnot a date!”I angrily jabbed at the table with my finger.
Why am I getting so worked up about this?
Deep laughter rumbled from his chest as he slowly stood up. I gulped while his towering figure loomed above me, giving me a good reminder of just how scrawny I was compared to him.Good gods is he tall...
I felt like cornered prey as he predatorily circled around to my side of the table, mischievously eyeing me with some sort of perverse hunger. The seat dipped while his large body sank down way too closely next to mine. His sinfully delicious fire and spice scent clouded my senses, and heat radiated off him like a heat lamp. Butterflies began fluttering around my stomach, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to go away or smother me with his big sexy frame. He brushed my long side bangs behind my ear and leaned in close enough for me to feel his hot breath on my skin. The tips of his fingers left an electrifying feeling on my temple, and a shiver ran up my spine.
“Well, I’m disappointed that this isn’t a date, but you’ve made your point perfectly clear. To save you from any further embarrassment, I’ll make sure that no one else here has the wrong idea,” his voice rumbled in my ear, causing my eyes to grow wide and shift around.
He abruptly stood up and clapped his hands twice. “Everyone, may I have your attention, please!” his bellowing voice boomed throughout the café. The seven other people having breakfast turned and looked at him in confusion. My mouth dropped open in horror.
He can’t be fucking serious...
“I would like to inform everyone here that myself and this beautiful young lady...” He gestured to me with an elegant sweep of his hand. “Are, in fact, not on a date. I repeat, we are not on a date and she is quite certain of it. There is, however, some further information regarding our relationship involving a bra, jojoba oil, and a book made of human skin, but I cannot disclose any of that at the moment. I hope I’ve cleared up any confusion that any of you may have had. Thank you.”
Oh my god...
I was completely mortified. I hid my bright red face within my hands as I shrank down into the booth. He softly chuckled while sitting back down, once again way too close for comfort. I couldn’t even look at him. His warm, muscular arm slithered around my upper body and squeezed me in a playful sort of side hug, causing me to blush even more. Whispered murmurs floated through the room, only adding to my humiliation.
“Oh, and by the way,” his lips grazed my ear as he spoke. “My name is Ashton.” Cold air replaced his warm body as he let go of me and gracefully stood back up. “I’ll see you around, Buttercup.”
I peeked up through my hands just in time to see him blow me a kiss with the biggest, most mischievous grin plastered on his stupidly perfect face. He then walked out of the café, leaving me flustered, embarrassed, and alone.
What the fuck just happened?
Once the crippling embarrassment finally wore off, I flipped open the book he’d given me. My eyes widened in shock, and I let out a little gasp. Written on the first page in familiar cursive handwriting was“Property of Elowynn Gallagher.”
4. Kidnapped by a Murderer
Exhausted, I crashed onto the unmade bed and closed my eyes in sweet relief. The long day was over, and I could finally relax in the dark cave that was my room. I stayed there for a moment, absorbed in the soothing sound of heavy rain pelting down on the roof above. Tempted as I was to let sleep overtake my senses, curiosity got the better of me. I flicked on the dim salt lamp that rested on my nightstand and reached into my bag in search of my aunt’s old journal.
How the hell did that guy even get this?
The tips of my fingers danced over the smooth binding. My stomach twisted, and I felt somewhat anxious as I opened the first page. My eyes wearily grazed over the words while I read about her secret feelings for the mailman, and how she would‘accidentally’check the mail in her racy blue bathrobe each time he was due to show up...Wait? Aunt Elowynn was thirsting for the mailman?I let out a small laugh. Here I was thinking that I’d find some creepy tales regarding her odd obsessions with the occult, yet it seemed like an ordinary journal.
A loud knock interrupted the mailman saga that I was now very invested in. “Gwendolyn! You’d better be getting ready for Amelia’s party!” Lacey shouted through the door.
God motherfucking dammit!
“Um, I haven’t started yet. I wanted to see what you were wearing first,” I lied, trying to make it sound like I hadn’t completely forgotten...I had completely forgotten.
“Girl, I know you’re lying. You forgot, didn’t you?” She barged into the room with ayou’ve-been-bustedscowl on her face. “I had a feeling this would happen, which is why I already have a cute, color-coordinated outfit idea in mind.” I groaned as she grabbed my hand and dragged me off the bed. “Come on!”
She rummaged through my closet and pulled out a short black dress with straps criss crossing over the exposed back, cap sleeves, and a flowy skirt. It was one of my favorites; I had to admit. “Put this on and meet me in the bathroom,” she ordered, and then walked out of the room.
I sighed, slipped into the dress, and headed downstairs. Lacey was wearing a short crimson dress that accentuated her voluptuous curves. It had one long sleeve and left her other shoulder bare. She was applying black lipstick, which matched her eyeshadow. Without even glancing my way, she placed a tube of crimson lipstick in my hand. It was no doubt intended to match her outfit, as hers matched mine, completing our coordinated look.
“Alright, let me at least throw my hair up first,” I said while twirling my long locks into a messy bun.
“Make way, chiquitas, I’m coming in.” William’s face squeezed into the mirror above ours.
