Page 49 of Demon Kissed
“Katrina. I didn’t expect to see you here.” He places his elbows on the counter and leans forward almost imperceptibly. If he were a woman, I would say he was trying to flash me a hint of cleavage. Instead, I’m pretty sure he’s trying to show off his impressive biceps and the smooth contours of his muscles beneath the thin black BAS shirt he wears.
“Yeah, you know me. A bowling fanatic,” I quip sarcastically, because everyone in the world knows that I’m more likely to smack myself in the face with a bowling ball than actually hit a pin.
“Let me guess? You bowl a three-hundred on average?” he teases, and I can’t help but notice he has exponentially beautiful eyelashes. Seriously, it almost appears as if he’s wearing mascara. They’re thick and luscious and a sooty black; all I can do is stare at them in abject wonderment.
“Subtract a couple hundred, and you have your answer,” I reply. I can feel the heat of Zolroth’s body as he steps up behind me, his warmth almost palpable. It seeps through my skin and sets my veins on fire. When his chest is flush to my back, I note for the first time how stiff he is, how tense. What the fuck is his problem?
“I’m sure you’re not that bad. Honestly?” Jason leans even closer—close enough for me to see a scatter of delicate freckles on his nose and cheekbones. “I once bowled a thirty-two.”
“You did not,” I say with a snort. “That’s like a hairdresser with a hideous bowl-cut. Impossible.”
“It’s true!” he protests, biting down on his lower lip. But Istillcan’t draw my attention away from his fucking eyelashes. Seriously, how did he get them so full? I’m actually kind of jealous. I don’t wear makeup normally, and when I do, my lashes always appear clumpy. What I wouldn’t give to have natural lashes like his.
A throat very pointedly clears behind us, and I turn, leaning to the side to see around Zolroth, to see all of the demons. Somehow, the rest of them showed up here, even Akor, whom we left at my house. And they’re all glaring at us, their eyes spewing vitriol. Raz’s teeth are clenched so tightly, I’m afraid he’s going to break his jaw. His hands are clenched into fists, and Van has one hand on his shoulder, as if to hold him back. The lust demon isn’t faring much better. He’s glaring at Jason with so much fury, it deserves to have its own element on the periodic table. Kastros has his muscular arms crossed over his chest as he scowls. Honestly? He’s intimidating as fuck on a normal day, but right then, he is piss-your-pants scary. Zolroth isstillpressed against my back, so close that I can’t read his expression, but if his taut body is any indication, he’s as angry as the rest of them. Why are they all even here?
And what the fuck is their problem?
Do they not like Jason for some reason?
I don’t know the guy well, but he seems nice enough. Talkative, for sure. None of that explains why the demons are staring at him as if they wish to remove his spleen from his body and then eat it.
And Akor…
The pink-haired demon stands off to the side, a cold, malicious smile curling up his pink lips. Something undefinable dances in his eyes. Something calculating, almost, like a scientist preparing to cut into a frog and dissect it.
“Um…s-size five, please,” I stammer, refocusing back on Jason. I wonder what he’s thinking right now. The gym teacher, the counselor, and the decathlon coach all head to the bowling alley together… I’m sure there’s a joke in there somewhere.
I can’t help but notice that Jason seems slightly disappointed, his shoulders physically sagging, but he grabs me a pair of shoes without complaint.
Voice thunderous, Zolroth growls, “Size thirteen.”
After we receive our shoes and pay for a lane, Zolroth leads me away from Jason as fast as humanly—cough, demonly, cough—possible. He’s muttering beneath his breath, voice too low for me to hear. When we reach the empty lane Jason indicated, surrounded on one side by a young family and the other by William and Janie, Zolroth mutters, “You were looking into his eyes.”
“What?” I squeak, acutely aware of William trailing his fingers along the underside of Janie’s jaw. What would it feel like if he did that to me? Would goosebumps follow in his wake? Would he tilt my chin further back and press his lips to—
“That asshole worker,” Zolroth growls. “You were staring into his eyes all lovey-dovey.”
All lovey-dovey?
What the ever-loving fuck is he going on about this time?
“Dude, I was jealous of his eyelashes, that’s it.”
Zolroth’s mouth tightens, and his eyes study mine as he sits down and sets his bowling shoes on the ground. “Don’t do that.”
“Why?” Ohhh, wait. Did he think it would undermine everything with William? Or maybe that William would think I liked Jason instead? Maybe William would think I was playing with guys, going on a date with Zolroth and flirting with Jason? Horror ziplines through me. Nope. Can’t happen. Note to self—no more admiring guys’ eyelashes. I write it inside my head and then underline it three times. “Nevermind,” I say. “I’m sorry.” I tack that last bit on because now that we’re right next to William, my back is tingling and my nerves are about to hit full force. The pressure is building, and I desperately need Zolroth to keep me focused so I don’t start spewing out random facts at five-hundred miles per hour like a fire hydrant.
My eyes grow wide when Zolroth gestures towards himself, making his legs wide. “Come here.”
I take a few steps forward, so that I’m standing just in front of his knees, but he grabs my arm and pulls me in the rest of the way so that I’m trapped between his very muscular thighs. His piercing brown eyes stare up at me. And then he slowly reaches for the bowling shoes in my hand. “Here, let me put these on for you.”
My throat gets strangely dry, and the thought of him putting shoes on me makes me oddly self-conscious, but I’m not sure why. They’re just shoes. “Umm…”
Before I can protest, he grabs my right leg and scoops it up, placing it on his chest.
“Your suit!” I whisper in dismay, crossing my fingers that I didn’t step in anything. With the crazy, multicolored bowling carpet, you never can tell.
“Hush.” Zolroth is seated, and I’m staring down at him as he moves very slowly and deliberately. He puts my bowling shoes on the seat beside him and then brings both his hands up to caress the leg that’s planted on his chest. I look like an explorer claiming a new territory. Only, I’m not claiming him. New visual metaphor. I look like I belong in a shaving commercial… No that sucks. Maybe I look like a lap dancer! As soon as I think that, a huge blush takes over my face and I try to pull my foot away.
