Personal Demons

Gabriel. This has to be his fault, somehow. I'm going to track him down, pluck out his angel feathers, and stuff a pillow with them.

Sii la mia schiava d’amore,” I purr. Her expression is guarded. “What did you say?” An amused smile pulls at my lips. “I’ll never tell.” Somehow, I don’t think she’d agree to be my love slave anyway.

I walk up right behind Frannie, where she’s sitting near the door, in time to hear her say, “You know what, Tay? Go to Hell,” and I smile, because I think it’s cute that she’s inviting her friends along.

But his eyes say what he can’t. I see it, clear as day, even if she doesn’t. He’d give up his wings for her. All she’d have to do is ask.

I'm literally too hot to handle.

We could work on our English outline," I say and almost can't contain the chuckle. "Really? That's your idea of a hot date?" "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware we were on a 'hot date'" And this time I can't contain the chuckle when she cringes. "So, how hot would you like it? I'm capable of all levels of hotness, from Luc-warm to - and I'm being literal here - hotter than Hell.

If there's a Hell on Earth, it's high school.

I'm a demon, not a pig, so I keep the place relatively neat.

I don't believe in love at all, really. But lust ... is alive and well.

She’s fiery for sure. I like a little fire. Makes me feel at home.

Oh, for the sin of Satan.

There’s no crying in baseball and no love in Hell. It’s just the rules. You could say it’s against our religion, more or less.

You speak Italian," she says, unconvinced. "Si." "Say something." "Sii la mia schiava d'amore," I purr. Her expression is guarded. "What did you say?" An amuse smile pulls at my lips. "I'll never tell." Somehow I don't think she'd agree to be my love slave anyway.

And I start to say that I’m not lying now, but I am, so that would be a lie.

I try to pretend his shoulder touching mine isn’t causing totally unrelated parts of me to tingle.

But I can't see how anybody who drives a '68 Shelby could be all bad.

What is it?” “Well, how it works is you take the box out of my hand and open it,” I say with a grin.

Tell me what to do to change your mind.

Whoa! I knew you were hot, but Jesus!’ she says, and I wonder why she things He has anything to do with it.

She gets to the bottom of the stairs, and I lift her off the ground and kiss her. As I lower her back to her feet she says, ‘Mmm, nice. That’s gonna score you some points with the parents.’ I look into the stands and see her parents standing there, slack-jawed, Dad with a camera perched, forgotten, in his hand. And Grandpa is laughing. ‘So what’s the plan?’ ‘I’m working on it. But I’m pretty sure it doesn’t include molesting me in front of them.

There’s no crying in baseball and no love in Hell. It’s just the rules.

I elbow him. “You’re such a pig.” He grins. “I’m not a pig, I’m a guy—which, now that I think about it, is pretty much the same thing. Point taken.

I know exactly what to do with him. I've been practicing in my dreams.