Demon at My Door Read Online Free PDF

call making fun of me “talking.” I stare up at him and demand, “Are you talking to me?”
    “Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow and smiles. His teeth are perfect—probably cost his parents a mint. “Who else would I be talking to?” He chuckles as we both look around the empty parking lot.
    “Okay…soooo… what?” I ask a little more brusquely than I meant to and then take off in the direction of the school before he can answer. I am so not in the mood to be messed with.  
    “Whoa, hold on there.” He catches up to me and matches my pace. “I was just wondering if you could show me where Administration is. This is my first day on campus. By the way, I’m Rick.” He holds out his hand as a standard greeting, but I just keep walking. “Rick Steele.” He tries again. I glare at his hand for a second before he shrugs and drops it down to his side.
    He’s new. That explains the tinge of southern accent I hear in his voice and why he’s not afraid to be seen with me. He’s got a great smile and a deep throaty voice that makes me think of hot caramel over smooth, cool ice cream. He’ll do well in the girl department here. Especially with those intriguing gray eyes—the kind that can peer into your soul – and thick, dark hair that nearly touches his shoulders. Girls eat that crap up. 
    Even though I’m not really feeling hospitable, especially to a guy that’s going to eventually ignore me like all the others, I decide I can show him. He hasn’t done anything to me. Yet. “Sure. Follow me.”
    I pick up the pace, wanting to get into the building before anyone tries to use me as target practice with their half-empty, fancy iced-coffee cups. For some reason the prep crowd around here think that kind of shit is hilarious.  
    We arrive at the main office. I smile faintly at Rick. “Here you go. See you around.” 
    “Wait,” Rick says, as I turn away from him. I whip around to meet his gaze. “What’s your name?”
    I roll my eyes. Why does he care? “Most people call me Sugarman.”
    He tilts his head to the side. “That’s your last name, I take it.”
    I nod and walk backwards, trying to get away as quick as I can without looking like a total bitch.
    “What’s your first name?” Yep, he’s a smooth-talker.
    “Natalie.”
    A slow grin spreads across his face and his smile leaves me feeling a little light headed. “Thanks for helping me out, Natalie .”
    My name rolls off his tongue with ease, like he’s said it a million times. His accent gives it a special twist. Damn it. I can feel my cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. I duck my head, trying to hide my reaction.  
    He chuckles and then heads into the main office.
    Ugh. What a flirt. I flee back across the courtyard, completely baffled in this guy’s interest in me. He probably plays all the girls like this and causes them to swoon all over him. I’m sure Rick will fit in just fine.
    After surviving my morning classes, I head to lunch. Usually, I sit alone outside under a big oak tree—trying to disappear—until it gets so cold we’re forced inside. 
    Ah, the lonely life of an outcast. Was I always seen as social pariah? The answer is no, not always. As hard as it is to believe, I was once accepted, and - I might even dare to say - semi-popular. 
    At least until I went to Taylor Gee’s freshman year sleepover seven years ago in high school. Thanks to Mom, she revealed my psycho status to practically every girl in my grade by storming over to Taylor’s and making a huge scene. Talk about mortifying. Going on and on about how I’d forgotten my ‘crazy pills’ at home and how it would affect my ‘condition’ if I missed a dose. From then on people started avoiding me like I had leprosy and lucky me that status followed me on to college. 
    I saunter over to the lunch line and grab an apple and a bottle of water and head out to the tree.
    Great, so much for being alone out here. The entire student population seems to be spread