“Can’t. I have things.”
“Mysterious things?”
“Laundry things.”
“On a Friday night?” He gathered his files. “You’re more boring than I am.”
“Says the guy planning to stalk a coffee shop.”
“It’s not stalking, it’s…” He sighed. “Fine. Abandon me. I’ll go practice talking to Emma in my mirror.”
“Practice using actual sentences this time.”
“No promises.”
At home, Mia was waiting with wine and questions.
“So?” She handed Ava a glass before she’d even set down her bag. “How was the week of fake dating your demon boss?”
“Exhausting.” Ava collapsed onto the couch. “I insulted an ancient succubus, learned to waltz, and stopped a snake demon from eating a court reporter.”
“Typical week then.”
“Mia, I’m serious. This is insane.”
“But?”
“But what?”
“There’s always a but. You have but-face.”
Ava sipped her wine. “He’s teaching me demon law.”
“Romantic.”
“And we’re going shopping tomorrow.”
“More romantic.”
“And when we danced…” She stared into her glass. “It felt real.”
“Was it?”
“I don’t know.” That was the problem. She genuinely didn’t know. “What if it is? Real, I mean?”
Mia set down her wine and pulled Ava into a hug. “Then you figure it out. But maybe figure it out before the demon mark becomes permanent?”
“It’s temporary. Fifty-one more days.”
“Right.” Mia pulled back, studying her face. “And you’re already counting down.”
Ava didn’t have an answer.
They sat together drinking wine, not talking about breakfast tomorrow, or what it meant to practice being normal with someone who was anything but.
Later, alone in her room, Ava stared at her closet.
What did you wear to a fake date with a demon who might not be fake anymore?
