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“I’m sure that Zac would not do that to you.”

“He just did,” Gola threw back. “Did you see the way he looked down his nose at me?”

It was more like up his nose. Gola was very tall. Still, Zac could not say the truth to make Gola feel better. He could not tell this foul-looking woman that while her looks made him nauseous, he would still treat her with respect because she deserved it. Unfortunately, a demon was at the helm, not the real Zac.

“I am very sorry for the way he treated you, Gola. If I could kick him in his balls, I would. Unfortunately, I don’t think my legs can reach that high, but if they could…” He smiled.

Gola laughed with a dribble and slurp.

He winced.

“Sorry,” she said. “I can’t help it. Only half my lower lip works.”

“It’s all right. My dick is so small I can barely piss out of it. Takes twenty minutes just to fill a Dixie cup. Wanna see?” He grinned, hoping to make her feel better.

“No.” She laughed. “But thanks.”

“You’re very welcome. Anything I can do to ease your pain.” Zac honestly felt responsible for how Hilbert had acted while in his body. So uncool.

“I appreciate that.” Gola stopped walking.

“What?”

“I have to go back there.”

“Why?” Hadn’t she had enough?

“I need to give Zac a piece of my mind.”

“It won’t change anything. You know that, right?”

“It will make me feel better,” Gola said.

Well, hell. He wasn’t about to let her go in to face more public humiliation by herself. “I will accompany you, then.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Perhaps he would give Tula a piece of his mind, too.

Gola stared down at him for a moment. “Thank you, Hilbert. I really mean it.”

“What are unattractive friends for?”

“Friends.” Gola gave him a nod. “I could really use one right now.”

“Honestly, so could I.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next morning, Zac woke to a terrible pain in his head and an ache in his noodle. He slid his chubby little fingers over the naked member. It was swollen to the width of a pencil. Motherfucker. What happened?

Slowly, he sat up and looked around. The room had plush burgundy velvet curtains and a huge mirror on one wall. The bed was covered in black satin sheets. Home!

Okay, so he was in his room, naked in his waterbed.

Slowly, he turned his head toward the sound of a snoring log next to him. Oh gods. Say it isn’t so. Gola was passed out facing the other way, her flat ass pointing right at him.

Jeez. Now there’s a sight. At least she had clothes on. He was only wearing his kilt, and that was up around his midriff.

What happened? Memories of last night began sifting into his head. He and Gola had gone back to the party but were unable to find Tula and Hilbert. Assuming they’d left, Zac and Gola had decided to attack a bottle of tequila.

Wait. No. Gola and I did a shots competition. Zac vaguely recalled the people at the party screaming, “Shots! Shots! Shots!” as he and Gola competed to see how many each could do in sixty seconds. She won. Then she proceeded to outdrink five other guys.

Impressive.

Then they’d danced to some horrible techno-tango music. Still, they were having fun until he’d spotted Hilbert with his hands all over Tula in a dark corner of the room. He then attacked Hilbert, which was a stupid choice because Hilbert had Zac’s seven-foot body along with incredible strength.

Basically, I tried to kick the shit out of myself. Wonderful. Tula had been horrified and screaming while they fought. Zac got punched in the noodle. Then the host of the party had Zac thrown out. Gola got him home safely.

Ugh…my head. Zac squeezed his temples between his hands and made his way to the kitchen, looking for anything edible or drinkable. Unfortunately, he hadn’t done any shopping this past year, so all he found was some cold beer, frozen blueberries, and a strawberry Pop-Tart.

Zac climbed up on the barstool and sat at the black granite breakfast bar, replaying last night over again in his throbbing head.

With his own eyes, he’d seen how Tula became another person once Hilbert entered the room in Zac’s body. She acted all sweet and in love, but it was just that, wasn’t it? An act.

If she truly loved me, she would have noticed another man occupying my skin. She would have looked past his homely demon face and seen the man she swore to love.

Honestly, Tula deserved to be with a demon like Hilbert, or ultimately Maury. They were both superficial and evil. I’d rather hang out with Gola. At least she was genuine. And nice. In fact, it didn’t make sense that she was so into Hilbert, aka the imposter. Hilbert had snubbed her hard. But he’d seen the look in Gola’s eyes when she gazed upon his face. His real Zac-face. It was pure love…


Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Vampires