by J. N. Colon
Demy dove under the covers, yanking them over his head as if it would really conceal the six foot something shifter. My mother immediately spotted the giant lump next to me, her eyes flickering to my dad’s currently cheerful face. She probably assumed it was Mac.
My dad made it to the edge of my bed. “Happy…” His dark eyes landed on the giant protuberance that could in no way be blankets next to me and his smile morphed into a snarl. My mother grabbed the cupcake out his hands before he squeezed it into a confection volcano. “What did I tell you about...?” He ripped the covers off to reveal Demy, confusion halting him. “What the…?”
“Dad, just calm down.” My face burned with embarrassment at what my parents must be thinking.
“Calm down?” he screeched. “Why are you in my daughter’s bed? Are you in love with her too?”
I wanted to dive under the bed, monsters be damned.
“Marshall,” my mother crooned, setting the cupcake on my dresser. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.” Her golden honey eyes landed on Demy in curiosity.
He cleared his throat. “Uh—I was sleepwalking?”
My dad growled and gripped Demy’s ear between his thumb and forefinger, drawing him out of my bed. “OUT! Get out of my house.”
“Dad!”
Demy could have easily slipped away from him, but he had enough since to let the mere mortal man feel like he had the power in the situation.
“Oh sweetie,” my mom began, gingerly running her fingers through her tousled blonde waves. “You’re not dating both of them are you?”
I tossed the blankets over my head. “Of course not!” I groaned. “Thanks a lot Demy. You deserve whatever my dad does to you!”
“Rubi and I are just friends. I heard her through the wall, tossing and moaning like a banshee. I went to check on her and fell asleep.” It was the flimsiest excuse I’ve ever heard.
“Of course if she’d have me I’d gladly be her secret love slave.”
I gasped and shot up, glaring at Demy as he grinned. “You Russian idiot.” I tossed a pillow at him. “Just wait ‘till Mac hears about this. I give him free reign to pummel you.”
Demy had the audacity to blow me a kiss as my father dragged him out the room.
“You sure are popular with the boys these days,” my mother remarked with a wink. “Happy 17th birthday sweetie.”
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Haunted (A Secret Salem Novel 3)
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