Faery Godlover

If she thought about it, things had gotten pretty interesting since he showed up. And the disastrous dates he set-up were kind of hilarious. Had Duada had something to do with Hayden’s abnormal junk or James’ neurotic behavior? Duada couldn’t be that oblivious. Women were basically the same in every race, be that human or fae.

Her mind wandered to Duada. What was that stupid jerk doing right now?

“Greetings!”

Jasmine screamed and fell off the side of the bed.

Duada had suddenly popped into her room, like usual, without warning.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jasmine threw pillow at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He ducked the pillow and tsk-ed disapprovingly. “A young woman like you shouldn’t use that coarse language.”

“Duada. I swear to God each time you’ve showed up, you took off five years of my life. You’ll be the death of me.” She got up off the floor and sat at the edge of her bed.

“I’m bereft.” He gave a mock bow. “You’ve got to be the first female who resents my presence. Usually women can’t get enough of me.”

“Cut the crap. What do you want?”

Duada gave her his charming smile, the one that could melt the heart of everyone who gazed on him.

Stop that. I hate you.

Yeah, right. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“I’d like to apologize for setting you up on two bad dates. I’ve come bearing a peace offering.” He produced a pint of ice cream out of nowhere and two spoons with a magician flourish.

Jasmine blinked. He totally caught her off guard. “What’s that?”

“Hagen-Daz. I am told that human females like to consume this frozen sweet whenever they feel down.”

“Who told you that?”

“The storekeeper. There’s a little shop called Seven-Eleven that caught my attention on my way here, so I stopped by and perused it. The short man suggested this treat as a cure to your woeful malady. Don’t you like vanilla? Vanilla is your favorite flavor, yes?”

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nbsp; Her eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

“From your dossier.”

“Dossier? You have a dossier on me?”

“Naturally.”

“Dude, that’s an invasion of privacy.”

He shrugged it off like it was no big of a deal. “How am I supposed to help you if I know nothing about you, hmmh?” He wriggled the ice cream in front of her. “Hagen-Daz?”

Jasmine snatched it from his hand. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You know, pouting doesn’t become you.” He dropped onto the bed next to her and eyed the ice cream expectantly.

“What? You want this too?” Duh, obviously. He had two spoons.

“The storekeeper told me of this women’s ritual of sharing ice cream while discussing the source of their woes. It’s supposed to help them feel better.”

“Yeah. Women. The last time I checked you’re not one.”