Demon Kissed - Katie May Page 0,29

how much I strain, I can’t make out what they’re saying.

Unease skates down my spine as I quicken my pace, casting inconspicuous glances over my shoulder. A group of girls point to me and break into giggles before turning away. I’m so preoccupied with their reaction towards boring old me that I don’t notice the man until I’m practically eating his chest.

“Woah.” Strong hands rest on my shoulders, lingering a second longer than propriety would allow. “Katrina, right?”

I turn towards the newcomer with barely veiled confusion. Jason Brett stands before me, a smug smirk tugging up the corners of his thin lips. He’s a running back on the football team and one of the guys that every girl wants to get with. Even I can admit that he’s handsome in a boy-next-door kind of way. He smiles ruefully at me as his forest green gaze travels over my body.

“Umm…yeah?”

Does he need to borrow my notes? I’m pretty sure he has AP Chemistry later in the day. Honestly, I can’t tell you for sure. I’m a little preoccupied with William and his cute dimples and sexy, broad shoulders and…

And I’m honestly offended he needed a reminder of my name. We’ve been classmates forever, and he talked to me just a few days prior, at the Halloween party.

Boys, am I right?

Jason surprises the ever-loving shit out of me when he leans forward and twirls a strand of my pink hair around his finger. I’m too stunned to do anything but gape at him like an imbecile.

Jason Brett is touching me.

Jason. Brett. Is. Touching. Me.

Has Hell frozen over?

I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I know the demons are behind this.

The group of girls I noted earlier are glaring at me with open hostility and jealousy. The ringleader, a girl I recognize as Molly something, whispers to her bleached-blonde friend. Both of them titter, still glancing at me. The third girl, whose name I can’t recall, merely stares at me with wide-eyed awe and wonderment.

What the fuck is going on?

“I heard about what happened at the mall.” Jason lazily—almost lackadaisically—twirls my hair before tucking it behind my ear. “That’s pretty badass.”

Pretty badass?

Thing at the mall?

Oh…fuck.

“I was thinking that we could maybe hang out sometime,” he continues, oblivious to the girls hurling daggers in our direction. Suddenly, the appreciative gleam in the eyes of the other guys standing around him makes ten times more sense.

They think I’m some sort of…badass criminal or something.

I’m really just an or something. I’m much more comfortable being an or something than being spoken to by some hunky jocks.

“I…um…” Floundering, I attempt to conjure up an excuse as to why we should never, ever hang out. I’m pretty sure declaring that I’m in love with another boy won’t appease him.

“Kat!” a honey-toned voice breaks in from behind me. A moment later, a heavy arm drapes itself over my shoulders and nestles me against a toned body. Instantly, my body droops in noticeable relief before I quickly catch myself and steel my expression.

I should not feel comforted by the sexy, British demon. Not at all.

Zolroth smiles easily, blinding me with his pearly white teeth that offset his dark brown skin. The top few buttons of his uniform shirt are undone, revealing a chiseled, smooth chest. His golden-brown eyes flicker in the artificial lighting as he presses me further against his body, ignoring my huff of indignation.

“Baby…” he purrs in that delicious, mouth-watering, fucking erotic accent of his. He lowers his face to the crook of my neck and runs his nose up and down. Goosebumps immediately ripple on my skin as his hot breath curls around me. “Who is this?”

Jason’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. He eyes Zolroth like a fighter assessing an opponent.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demands at last, crossing his arms over his chest. He hefts his chin up in what I think is supposed to be an intimidating gesture. The fact that he’s a few inches shorter than Zolroth and significantly lankier isn’t lost on anyone.

“Zolroth,” the charming—did I say charming? I meant disgusting—demon responds, extending a hand. “And I’m just here to walk my girl to our first class.”

His girl?

His girl?!

My panties and my brain simultaneously combust. One in a good way. The other…not.

Jason glares at Zolroth a second more, sizing him up before eventually conceding with a scowl. To me, he says, “I’ll talk to you later.”

As the footballer stalks away, muttering incoherent curse words beneath his breath, I whirl on