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“Okay, sweetheart, course you don’t. When am I seeing you next?”
“Soon.” I sigh. No point in denying it. We had a wonderful date and I’ve just halved my options by striking the twins off my list.
“Two-horse race?”
“Definitely,” I confirm.
“We’ll see.” I hear the amusement in his voice and sigh.
“Tell me something about you.”
“I love tacos.”
“Something real.”
“I really love tacos.”
“Oak,” I groan.
“Don’t say my name like that.”
“I thought you said I should call you Oak?”
“Yeah but not like that. All breathy and groany and shit. My dick’s sporting some serious wood right now.” He laughs at his joke. “Oak. Wood. Get it?”
I get it. But I’m thinking about his dick so I’m a little lost for words right now.
“Hanging up,” I tell him.
“Aww, you’re such a prude,” he complains. “Okay fine. What do you want to know?”
“Your age.”
He coughs.
“Seriously? I thought that was an easy one to get you started.”
“I guess I’m...how old do you think I look?”
“I’m crap at stuff like that. I dunno. You could be late twenties or early forties.”
“Let’s go with that.”
“Which?”
“Whichever you want me to be, sweetheart.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m a demon, sweetheart, I don’t really have a human age.”
“Oh.”
“Next question,” he prompts me to move on.
“Don’t you want to ask me anything?”
“What’s your favorite sex—”
