“You do?” I was surprised.
“Does that shock you?”
“Well. . .” I bit my lip in embarrassment. Hot guys could read too.
“Is it because I skip school, wear ripped jeans and go cliff diving that you think I’m illiterate?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I sputtered. My cheeks burned. How many times could a person want to die in one afternoon?
“Dixie, I’m teasing you,” he said gently.
“Oh. . .okay.” He had to think I was such a dumbass.
“I think you’re amazing and beautiful and sweet.” He walked around the table and sat right next to me. “I love to read. I collect first edition books. I have some that are thousands of years old.”
That piqued my interest. “Like what?” I adored old books. My father’s den was loaded with them. I’d spent a great amount of my childhood curled up in his den reading till my head spun.
“I have an original bound copy of The Beginning of Time.”
“Holy Hell, I didn’t know that even existed.”
“It does. I’d love to show it to you if you’d like.”
“I’d like.” I smiled. “What’s your biggest fear?” I asked. Now that the door was open, I wanted to know a few things about him. He might be hot, but maybe I wouldn't like him. Maybe he was a jerk. . .
“My biggest fear,” Hayden repeated as he ran his hands through his thick blond hair. “My biggest fear is being alone through all eternity.”
Damn, that was deep. I was going to say spiders.
“What’s something you dream about doing?” He changed the subject to something far lighter.
I took a long pause while I considered my answer. The first thing that came to my mind was silly, but if he could be that honest, so could I. “Flying,” I answered shyly. I knew Demons couldn’t fly, but that’s what I dreamed of. “I’ve always wanted to be able to fly. Sometimes when I run and I feel the wind race around me and through me and in me I pretend I’m flying.”
He was quiet for a moment, just watching. “Perfect,” he murmured softly. “Please, Dixie, let me take you to dinner tonight. I promise I’m a good guy and I like you a lot.”
“Hayden, do you know who my father is?” I assumed he did, but maybe not.
“Yes Dixie, I absolutely know who your father is.”
“And that doesn’t. . .um, bother you?”
“No, should it?”
Was he crazy? Everyone was terrified of my dad. Wait. . .Didn't Satan tell me to start being promiscuous? Something I had no intention of doing, but a date. . .I could go on a date. I wanted to go on a date. I’d never ever been on a date. No one had been brave enough to ask me. I wanted to go on a date with Hayden, and against all odds he wanted to go on a date with me.
“I’d love to go to dinner with you,” I blurted a little louder than I intended. I wanted to nail down my acceptance before he changed his mind.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.” He looked so happy I started to giggle.
“What should I wear?” I asked as my mind raced through my closet.
He got up, gathered his books and whispered in my ear. “Flying clothes. Wear your flying clothes, Dixie.”
Chapter 5
“I’m afraid to ask, but what in the Hell happened to your house?” Stella wrinkled her nose and put her hands on her slim hips.
We both looked around my bungalow in dismay. Only days ago it resembled a chic yet cozy high-end home of someone with excellent taste. Now it looked like a house decorated by someone on crack who’d gone to a yard sale.
I shook my head and grimaced. “I didn’t realize how bad it was.”
It was so bad it was almost funny. Almost. It would have been hilarious if I didn’t have to live in it.
“It’s pretty damn awful.”
“It’s a long story, but suffice it to say group therapy got a little violent,” I said.
“How does that explain the butt-ugly furniture?” She sat on my scary new lavender and green tartan plaid couch and bounced up and down. “Hmm, it’s appalling, but at least it’s comfortable.” She moved to the floral chair.
“Myrtle beat the crap out of the therapist over Simon Cowell's man boobs and then all Hell broke loose. They destroyed my house and everything in it, so they brought me new supplies. I hesitate to call it furniture.” I piled six outfits on my brand spankin’ new blonde pressboard dining room table. Stella was here to choose an ensemble for my date.
“Ooo,” Stella squealed as she clapped her hands gleefully. “She nailed the shrink?”
“Yep.” I grinned as I examined several pairs of jeans, wondering which ones Hayden would like the best.
“I always liked Myrtle. Do you want your old furniture back?” she asked as she ran her hands over the super-sized black lacquered Asian-style coffee table. Not only was it shiny, but painted right in the center was a large bloody fire-breathing dragon destroying a village of unsuspecting mortals. The stuff of which nightmares are made.
“I can’t get my old stuff back.” I sighed. “They demolished it. Besides, I don’t have the time or the energy to redecorate my entire house. I leave for Earth soon. I’ll get around to it eventually.”
“But,” Stella interjected. “If you could have it back in its original form. . .would you?”