Perfect. Come join me.
The phone went silent. I waited eagerly for her response, but her speedy replies had stopped. I could just picture her staring at the phone and trying to recover from the surprise of my request. Although, maybe she didn’t want to go out. Maybe she didn’t feel well, which was why she was home. I abandoned the text thread to call her, sipping on my hot coffee while it rang.
“Yes?” she answered sheepishly.
“Text me your address,” I said as I reboxed my treat and made my way back to the counter. “I’m ordering you a cinnamon roll and your coffee now.”
She was silent for a beat before she asked disbelievingly, “You remember my coffee order?”
My chest puffed with pride upon hearing her surprise. Just to add to the thrill, I kept the phone angled at my mouth so she could hear me tell the register clerk, “A medium coffee with oat milk, two pumps of vanilla, sweet cream, and cinnamon sugar on top, please. Another cinnamon roll to go, as well.”
“Ha!” Serenity laughed into the phone. “You must have the memory of an elephant.”
“Only when it comes to the important things.”
She went quiet, and, again, I could picture a lovely flush blooming across her cheeks. The mental image had a smile forming on my own face. In reality, demons like me had perfect memories. We could retain and recall information with ease, but she didn’t need to know that. All she needed to think was that I cared enough to remember what she liked to drink.
“Address, Star,” I reminded her as I grabbed her order and placed it in a to-go container and bag with my own. “Text me your address.”
I, of course, knew where she lived, but that would look suspicious if I showed up without her giving me the information.
“Okay,” she finally responded softly.
A short drive later, I was pulling up in front of a small apartment complex. I found her apartment easily, and when she opened the door for me, I breathed in her perfect essence and the sight of her. Her silver curls were up in a messy bun, and she had on a lavender fleece sweatshirt and black leggings.
Fuck.
I couldn’t wait to taste her fully. I was determined to be patient in my pursuit of claiming her while destroying Bradley, but when I was face-to-face with her, staring into those smiling gray eyes and breathing in the crisp coolness of her, it got hard. I wanted to give in to the beast inside of me and convince her to let me fuck her right then and there.
“Hey,” she greeted.
I held up the drink holder and the café bag with the cinnamon rolls. “I’ve brought gifts.”
She held the door open wider and gestured for me to come in. “Thank you. That’s seriously so thoughtful of you.”
I wasn’t being thoughtful. I was trying to further my plan, but I kept that to myself.
I started inside but froze and stared at her face. A large cut split open the bottom corner of her lip, and a bruise discolored the skin of her jaw, even through the make-up she wore. The sight made a small knot gather in my gut, and I frowned. “What happened to your mouth?”
Her gray eyes widened, and she gingerly touched the place in question. She quickly ducked her head and laughed, “It’s so embarrassing, so I tried covering it. I slipped in the shower last night and smacked my face right into the shower ledge. Note to self: be more careful about spilling slippery soap in the bottom of the tub.”
“Ouch,” I said, tracing the painful-looking purple bruise with my gaze.
“Yeah.” She gave a small, hollow laugh. “Ouch.”
I set the bag and container on her island while looking around the shared living and kitchen space of her apartment. “I love your place.”
I’d already seen her gothic and whimsical setup, but since she was unaware of my shadowy visit, I pretended to see it all for the first time. And I didn’t mind scanning the room again.Her place was really nice. She had some candles burning in a few spots, and the lights around her plush reading chair were on today. A fuzzy gray blanket sat in the seat with an opened paperback resting on top. A Korean drama played softly on her TV. The atmosphere was cozy, and I almost wanted to settle into the homey space she’d created with a book and no care for the world outside of these four walls.
“Do you want to sit down?” she asked, gesturing at her dark couch.
We moved to the sofa where I gave her a cinnamon roll and her coffee. I pulled out my own breakfast, and we dug into the delicious treat with her show creating an easy background noise.
“Your bookshelves are amazing,” I told her.
It was one of the most honest confessions I’d made. Books and decor adorned the dark shelves. Some books faced outward and were framed by flowers or lights. Small figurines of dragons, skulls, ghosts, and even a demon stood by certain series. The arrangement was clearly thought out and extremely pleasing to the eye. I could sit and stare at it all without ever getting bored.
She brightened and looked at her bookshelves, too. “Thank you. My little library is my pride and joy.”
