Page 36 of De-Witched

Last call had come and gone and so had Frankie and the others. Leah had expected Gabriel to last half an hour at most. Be in the company of others? Willingly? And humans to boot? My, what a difference a few days made.

She’d been playing chicken and staying away from the shelter, skittish and half-anxious that witches would portal out of nowhere like a supernatural SWAT team and drag her to their High Family. When that hadn’t happened, she’d finally relaxed enough to return—only to learn that Sloane of all people had taken a shine to Gabriel, shadowing him after school and helping him with his jobs. That girl didn’t make friends easy, either.

A half witch, half human born from Emma’s dad and a human woman who’d died in childbirth, Sloane had grown up with her human aunt, away from witch society. Emma had been agonizing the past year about how to introduce Sloane to the masses without letting the cutthroat attitudes hurt the shy teenager. Still, Leah knew it was only a matter of time until Sloane forced the issue. She was as curious about witch society as Leah was, but at least she stood a chance at being included.

Honestly, that Sloane liked Gabriel and that he in turn allowed her company shocked the hell out of Leah.

But maybe not as much as the fact that he’d shown up tonight, even thrown himself into the drinking games Frankie and the others had played. Tequila after tequila after tequila.

She’d finally suggested a switch to beer when he’d rubbed the lime on his hand instead of the salt.

He hadn’t laughed and joked as much as the others had, but he’d been a part of the group. He’d stayed.

Now he sat on a stool, tie crooked, shirtsleeves pushed up to expose those muscled forearms, black hair mussed and eyes closed as he swayed to a Harry Styles song.

She stifled the inappropriate pleasure at the sight of Gabriel rumpled. If it wouldn’t be creepy as fuck, she’d take a picture for posterity. Behold the rare items: the four-leaf clover, a big blue moon and Gabriel Goodnight completely trashed.

The doors had been locked ten minutes ago; she’d cashed out the register and had wiped down most of the tables. They had a cleaner that would come in the morning to do a thorough job, but she never stacked the chairs on top of the tables without a cursory wipe.

“Don’t fall off there,” she cautioned Gabriel as she went around with a dishcloth and a spray bottle.

“Never,” he declared. “Goodnights have excellent balance.”

“Must be good to be a Goodnight.”

He made a noncommittal sound.

She sang along with the chorus as she finished the final few. The last word ended on a squeak as she turned and found her nose buried in Gabriel’s chest. Her hand fell to his hip as she caught her balance. She was slow to remove it, heart thudding at the feel of him under her fingertips. She dragged in a breath, tasted spices.

He didn’t notice. “You’re here alone.”

She strangled the ridiculous lust, flustered and irritated to be this affected. “Unless my elementary education fails me, I’m not alone.”

“If I weren’t here,” he said, doggedly following her as she slipped by him to stack another chair, “you’d be alone.”

“That’s generally how it works.”

“But that’s not safe.”

She twisted to face him, the last chair still suspended in her hands. “Safe?”

His expression was disgruntled. “Anyone could break in here. You could be hurt.”

Arrogant, she reminded herself before she completely melted. Disdainful, unfriendly, unhelpful, rude. Drunk.

Don’t fall for it. She’d been suckered into flirting earlier but that was okay. Flirting was harmless. Feelings were not.

“I can handle myself.”

“But you’re so fragile.”

That quickly, temper grated along her nerve endings. She placed the chair on the table deliberately. How was it he could amuse, arouse and annoy her in the stretch of one minute?

She kept her voice cool. “I bet I could take you.”

He didn’t laugh—Goodnights apparently didn’t—but he did throw her a look that practically patted her on the head.

She spun on him, annoyed. “I think Laurence would—” Her mouth snapped shut. Shit.

---