Page 1 of How Not to Date a Demon

Maeve

“Take a breath. Everything is fine. Just… fine.” With gritted teeth, Maeve repeated the mantra in her head as she stared at the latest sins her boyfriend had committed. The list was long and seemed to be growing every day.

“The sink is right here,” she grumbled and snatched up the empty glass, rinsing it in her pristine sink before setting it on the previously empty drying rack.

How hard was that? Couldn’t the man do one thing?

Maeve sighed as she dried her hands, glancing at the clock. It was nearing eleven, and he still hadn’t made it home from the emergency he’d needed to stay late for, and wouldn't be for a while, if the text he'd just sent was any indication. Dinner had been scooped into little plastic containers hours ago.

They’d been dating for almost a year now, and yet she’d begun to feel as if they’d been married for thirty. All she did was clean up after him.

Sure, she knew he was stressed with work, but she had a job too, and she still managed to clean up after herself. Was it too much to ask for him to step it up a bit?

Maeve nodded. She could tell him that. Easy.

Can you do it nicely, though?

“Shush,” she said aloud to the empty apartment.

She’d just tell him on a day when she wasn’t ready to snap his head off. Applauding herself for such levelheadedness, she made her way to the bedroom. Galen knew she couldn't wait up for him. His hours were insane, and if his boss didn’t give him a raise, she was going to personally march down there and kick his ass. She was tired of the waiting up and canceled dinners and postponed dates, and more than ready for Galen to have steady hours.

So she could actually have a boyfriend again.

With a sigh, she walked into the bathroom to begin her evening routine, stopping to put someone’s socks in the basket where they’d been resting alongside it.

Just as she pulled the shower curtain to the side, a knock sounded on the door.

It preceded the jingle of keys, and she frowned. What was Galen doing home so early? His text had made it seem like she wouldn't see him for hours.

She entered the living room, aiming for the door, when it suddenly burst in. Three small shadows darted past her, and she gasped before turning to see what the hell Galen had done.

Three puppies—real life fucking puppies—danced and romped around the living room, stopping to smell every piece of furniture within reach.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to her boyfriend. Galen, unaware of the thin edge of patience he was already scaling, held out a bouquet of flowers.

Even as her annoyance grew sharper, she couldn't help but appreciate the unfairly sexy sight of him, his black on black suit framing his shape perfectly.

“I am so sorry for being late for dinner. I convinced him to let me go early. Am I too late?”

Maeve slowly took the flowers from him and turned toward the kitchen. Stepping over too-excited puppies in the way, she made it to the sink to fill a vase with water for the carnations and roses. Her favorites.

Her chest tightened as she watched the vase fill, and organizing her thoughts was proving to be impossible.

Shaking her head, she turned to face Galen as he followed her in, stopping by the table.

“Puppies? What were you thinking?” she hissed quietly.

Galen frowned and took a step closer before he paused. His lips parted, but nothing came out. “Would you believe me if I said it was for work?”

Maeve shut the water off and leaned her hands on the edge of the sink, lowering her head. What the actual fuck?

“What kind of boss gives you three puppies to look after? Why?”

“They're… They’re the puppies of his favorite dog, and he just wanted me to watch them for a week or two.”

“A week or two?” she echoed. “Why?”

“He’s going out of town, and they were going to be too much for his sitter, so he asked me. I didn’t want to say no.”