Page 8 of Summoning Mr. Wrong
“Yes, about ten minutes ago. He asked me to tell you he was called to the hospital for an emergency.” The waiter looked uncomfortable. “He did leave a generous tip.”
Well, at least there’s that.
I trudged home, loosening my tie and feeling like an idiot. Another dating disaster to add to my collection. At this rate, I’d die alone in my apartment, found weeks later half-eaten by whatever pets I inevitably accumulate to fill the void of human connection.
When I opened my apartment door, I found Deus lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine. He looked up, took one look at my face, and sighed.
“That bad, huh?”
“He ditched me,” I said, throwing my keys onto the counter with more force than necessary. “Some emergency at the hospital.”
Deus’s expression darkened. “He’s not even a real doctor. He’s a chiropractor with a God complex.”
I stopped in the process of unknotting my tie. “How do you know that?”
“I may have done some background research.” Deus set down his magazine. “His Instagram is full of anti-vax propaganda and pictures of his ‘wellness retreats’ in Costa Rica.”
“Why would you set me up with someone like that?” I demanded, frustration boiling over.
Deus had the grace to look slightly abashed. “I didn’t know at first. I just saw ‘doctor’ and thought, stability, good income, probably has decent health insurance. The red flags didn’t show up until after you left.”
“So what, you texted him during our date to sabotage it?” I was putting the pieces together now.
“I may have sent a few messages from a number he’d recognize as his ex.” Deus inspected his nails casually. “Who may or may not be in Costa Rica with his best friend.”
I stared at him. “You… manufactured a crisis to test him?”
“And he failed spectacularly.” Deus stood up, approaching me with a predatory grace that made my pulse quicken. “He wasn’t good enough for you.”
“That wasn’t your call to make,” I said, but my anger was already fading into something more complicated. “Why do you care who I date?”
Deus stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could feel the unnatural heat radiating from his body. “Maybe it’s related to my favor.”
“Which you still won’t explain,” I pointed out.
“Because I’m still figuring it out myself.” His eyes dropped to my mouth for a brief, heart-stopping moment. “But I’m getting closer.”
We stood there, tension crackling between us like static electricity. I was acutely aware of how close he was, how easy it would be to close that small distance.
“I’m going to change,” I said abruptly, stepping back. “These clothes are too fancy to mope around in.”
Deus’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “Need help with those buttons?”
“I think I can manage,” I replied, my voice embarrassingly unsteady.
Chapter 6
In my bedroom, I leaned against the closed door, trying to get my heartbeat under control. What was happening to me? I couldn’t be attracted to Deus. He was a demon. A supernatural being with unknown motives who had barged into my life uninvited.
A supernatural being with incredible cooking skills, a surprising talent for fixing things, and an annoying habit of being right about people.
I changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, trying to sort through my conflicting feelings. When I emerged, Deus was in the kitchen, two glasses of wine already poured.
“Figured you could use this,” he said, sliding one toward me. “Bad dates call for good alcohol.”
“Where do you keep getting this wine?” I asked, accepting the glass. “I know I didn’t buy it.”
“I have my ways.” He clinked his glass against mine. “To dodging bullets disguised as doctors.”
