The Devil (BOOK I + II)

4 | "The Product Of A Messed Up Family"

"Why? Are they hot?"

I began to smirk. "Yeah, but also because Connor is mega annoying but shockingly lovable. Just like you."

"Thanks, Lee," he laughed. "I'll try to watch it soon, but I don't want people to ask why I'm watching a girly show."

My jaw unscrewed as I gaped at his description of the show. "First off, it's not a girly show."

"You watch girly shows, Lee," he told me matter-of-factly, and I felt myself becoming defensive.

I clenched my thighs together and exhaled slowly, so I wouldn't start cussing up and down about his stupidity. "You're a durak."

He laughed in a surprise and emphasized, "How?"

"Well first off, the show is literally called How To Get Away With Murder. Does that sound like a girly show?" I didn't give him time to reply, continuing my rant. "Also, I don't like girly shows. I like shows that represent strong female characters, not underdeveloped, one-dimension girls whose only purpose in the show or movie is to fall in love and all that jazz."

This was a topic I was way too passionate about, and once I started, I couldn't stop.

"Also, it makes no sense how I can watch a male-dominated movie or whatever, but guys can't watch a girl-dominated thing. Like, make it make sense. Does your masculinity get bruised when there's a female lead, or are you just an—"

"Okay, okay! You win." He released an unfiltered laugh, which lasted for a few seconds. I grinned in satisfaction and sagged my shoulders. I hadn't even noticed they were tensed up.

"Thank you. I knew I would," I bragged with a smirk, even though he couldn't see me.

Rolie kept on chuckling. "I wish I had something to be that passionate about."

"You can be passionate about losing!" I cheered with a wide grin before fiddling with the bottom of my biker shorts. It was hidden behind the apron.

He sighed in my ear. "You know what, you're right."

"I know I am."

With a snort, he replied, "Your confidence in your abilities are intimidating."

"I know that too," I teased as I stretched my back.

He laughed again, but quickly sobered up. When he softly cussed, I pushed myself off the back counter, losing my smile before my eyes glazed over the shop, wide-eyed. "What?"

For a few long seconds, he didn't answer. I heard him shuffling in the background before he muttered, "I have to go."

"Why? What's going on?" I rushed out, panicked.

He cussed again, and I forced myself to swallow. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Be safe." And before I could argue and demand for answers, he hung up on me.

Slowly pulling the phone away from my ear, I glared and bit the inside of my mouth in irritation. Hopefully he could call me soon, so I could hound him for answers.

With that thought, I smirked to myself before slipping my phone back on the bottom shelf—just as the door opened, revealing two middle-aged but well-dressed women.

I greeted them with a smile before using my people-friendly voice to ask what they'd like. They seemed to enjoy the energy I was rubbing off and began to rush out their order with a wide grin. I recorded it, and for the next twenty minutes, I was busy at work.

When they left shortly after, I was left alone. So, I used the time to check on the flowers in the cooler, ensuring none were dying.

I reached the row of chrysanthemum's when I heard my phone ringing, all the way from the counter.