Page 25 of Summoning Mr. Wrong
I swallowed, unprepared for the question. “I don’t know. Friend? More than friend? Supernatural entity with benefits?”
He laughed, but there was something forced about it. “Supernatural entity with benefits. I like that.”
“So, would you be willing to do it?” I asked, bringing us back to the original question. “Pretend to be my normal, human roommate for a weekend?”
Deus considered it, his hands still working the dough. “I’d need to… tone down certain aspects of myself. The eyes, for one.” He gestured to his glowing amber irises. “And the horns tend to appear when I’m stressed or excited.”
“Can you control those things?”
“With effort, yes.” He nodded slowly. “I could pass for human. Just a very attractive, charismatic human with unusual tattoos.”
“And you’d have to wear clothes,” I added. “All the time. Including shoes.”
He made a face. “The shoes are pushing it, but for you, I’ll manage.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely relieved. “It would be weird trying to explain your absence when all your stuff is here.” Not that he had much stuff, but there were signs of his presencethroughout the apartment now—books he’d acquired, clothes he’d manifested, the expensive coffee beans he insisted on buying.
“Just one question,” Deus said, sliding the shaped dough onto a baking sheet. “Why not tell them I’m your boyfriend? Wouldn’t that be simpler than inventing a roommate backstory?”
The question caught me off guard. “Because… because we’re not…”
“Not what?” he prompted when I trailed off.
“Not dating,” I finished lamely. “Not officially.”
“Ah.” His expression was unreadable as he turned away to gather pizza toppings. “Of course.”
I felt like I’d somehow hurt his feelings, which seemed absurd. Did demons even have feelings to hurt? But the sudden tension in his shoulders, the careful way he was avoiding my eyes—it certainly looked like I’d struck a nerve.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t want to,” I said carefully. “It’s just… complicated. You’re not exactly…”
“Human?” he supplied, still not looking at me.
“Here permanently,” I corrected. “Eventually you’ll complete your favor and leave. Right?”
He was quiet for a moment, arranging toppings on the pizza with more concentration than the task required. “Right,” he said finally. “The favor.”
“So it makes more sense to introduce you as my roommate,” I continued, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in my chest. “Less explaining to do if you’re suddenly… not around anymore.”
“Makes perfect sense.” His voice was light, but his tattoos were moving more rapidly than normal, a sure sign of emotional disturbance. “Now, do you want extra cheese on this or not?”
The subject was clearly closed, but the strange tension lingered through dinner. Deus was his usual charming self, telling outrageous historical anecdotes and making me laugh, but there was a new guardedness in his eyes, a careful distance he maintained.
Chapter 16
That night, for the first time since we’d started sleeping together, he didn’t join me in bed. I found him on the couch when I woke up to use the bathroom at 3 AM, pretending to be absorbed in a book.
“Not sleeping?” I asked from the hallway.
“Demons don’t need much sleep,” he reminded me without looking up. “Just catching up on my reading.”
I wanted to ask him to come to bed, to bridge whatever gap had opened between us, but something held me back. Instead, I just said, “Goodnight, then,” and returned to my empty, too-cold bed.
By morning, things seemed back to normal on the surface. Deus made breakfast as usual, teased me about my bedhead, and outlined his plan for “passing as human” during my parents’ visit.
“I’ve created a backstory,” he announced, sliding a plate of perfect French toast in front of me. “Deus Davis, graduate student in anthropology, specializing in ancient cultures and religious practices. We met through a mutual friend and decided to room together to save on rent.”
“That’s… actually pretty good,” I admitted, impressed by the level of detail. “What about the tattoos?”
