Page 115 of Demons Dig Donuts

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Indy wiggled. “I’m your beck and call boy now?”

“You’re something.” Mr. Heiss reached for Indy’s hand.

Indy’s very stupid heart skipped a beat. “Well, I do appreciate that you no longer desire to remove any of my body parts. That’s a step in the right direction. But I’m gonna need a proper ass apology. You’ve been a dick. And not in the normal brooding asshole way, but a full-on dick fungus. Okay? With, like, oozing pustules and gangrene and—”

“I am sorry,” Mr. Heiss said quietly.

“Did you just…?” Indy blinked up at Mr. Heiss.

Mr. Heiss did not strike Indy as a person—demon—who would apologize easily. He held Indy closer and kissed his forehead, and there was something earnest in his touch. He held Indy as if he was truly precious, a treasure to guard and protect, and his gaze sparkled with tiny lights like stars.

Indy felt like he was teetering on the edge of a giant bridge, fuzzy and light and stomach rolling away, but he wasn’t afraid to fall. He was certain Mr. Heiss would catch him, and he had no clue what to do with that.

Everyone left him.

It’s what they did.

But Mr. Heiss…

“There.” Mr. Heiss scowled, the tender moment now lost as he pulled back. “Are you satisfied now?”

Indy smirked.

However brief, he considered it a small victory in whatever game they were playing. It bought him more time, more time to figure out what to do, and that’s all that mattered.

Definitely not all these warm fluttery feelings.

Nope.

Not a one.

“We’ll talk after Wendy’s.” Indy rubbed his thumb over Mr. Heiss’s knuckles. “Don’t get cheap on me either. I’m starving.”

Mr. Heiss looked up as they approached the fast food restaurant. “What would you like?”

“We’ll need to go inside.”

“Why?”

“I gotta pee. Unless you want me to do it in here—”

“No.”

“Sheesh, fine. Slut shaming me and now kink shaming me.”

Mr. Heiss sighed.

Loudly.

They parked, and once Mr. Heiss put on his human disguise, he led Indy out and inside the restaurant. It had recently been renovated to include kiosks for self-ordering, and Indy strolled right up to the closest one to start pecking away at the screen.

Mr. Heiss stayed close, his hand at the small of Indy’s back. He looked around the restaurant and tensed, whispering under his breath, “Shit.”

“Yes, I’m also upset they don’t have the Pretzel Pub Burger.” Indy followed Mr. Heiss’s gaze and tried to figure out what had him on edge. “What is—”

“Don’t look.”

“Don’t look at what?” Indy had to now. “At the guys with the fifty cheeseburgers? Or the one with what is clearly a wig—” He blinked and then squinted to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “—or the big cat wearing a kimono?”