Page 20 of Witch You Weren't Here

‘Oh.’ He looked down at the carpet. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.’

A little bubble of anger in Kay’s chest expanded. Not at him. It was at herself. She’d talked herself into a situation where she had to accept his apology. But it wasn’t an apology for that she truly wanted. ‘It’s fine,’ she managed to say. ‘I don’t think magic is the way to go with this either. Not without knowing what’s gone wrong.’

He flopped his head back and grimaced. ‘That’s what I thought too. Maybe if you could just sit on the bed, your weight will force it down.’

She gave a short, involuntary laugh. ‘Wow. I can’t believe I ever thought you were charming.’

‘What did I do now?’ His eyes widened. ‘You just said you aren’t going to use magic and you do, undeniably, weigh something and that something is extra to what I weigh at the moment—’

‘If you say “ergo” I’ll leave you here for the next orgy participants to find.’

‘Fine. You know what I meant, though. You don’t have to take offence just for the sake of it.’

So, he was starting to get narky back with her now, was he? As though he didn’t deserve everything she was dishing out – carnivorous couches and all.

‘Fine.’ She climbed onto the back of the sofa, rather than trying to hoist herself onto the raised edge of the bed, and braced her feet between his trapped leg and the one he was using to try to push the mattress down. ‘Are we sure this is the best idea? How is your foot even stuck? If we force it, we might do damage.’

‘I’ll scream if I feel anything severing, believe me, I don’t have a high pain threshold.’

‘I remember,’ she muttered.

‘Then you should have realised I wouldn’t be indulging in … flogging or such.’

‘There are rumours that S and M and having your foot caught in a sofa are not the same kind of pain. Also, for all I knew, you were the dominant one. Dishing it out.’

‘How did we get onto this subject again?’ A bead of sweat had appeared at his hairline, and he shifted uncomfortably, the sofa making a groaning noise again.

‘You brought it up.’

He gave a strained laugh. ‘I think I’m trying to process the trauma of Joe’s little sister knowing about this stuff.’

All her agitation grew a little bit more, affronted at being regulated in his past to the role of ‘Joe’s little sister’ and then again at him dropping her brother’s name as though they’d really been friends. But she bit back a retort because otherwise they might be stuck there all night, arguing. ‘Right, on three, I’m going to push. One, two—’

She attempted to straighten her legs and push the sofa bed flat. Springs and mechanisms creaked, Harry’s leg brushed beneath the back of her knees as something gave way a little and he jiggled it free. She jolted at the contact and pushed harder as though she could push him away and this time something gave way a lot. There was a snap and the sofa collapsed, first the fold-out part, making her land with her bottom in the gap and their legs tangled. And then the back fell away too, so she flopped with it.

Silence filled the apartment.

‘Crap.’ Harry breathed out from somewhere underneath her legs. ‘Are you all right, Kay?’

‘Yep. You?’

‘Uh-huh. So, you definitely didn’t use magic to do that?’

She paused. She was pretty sure she hadn’t, but she had suddenly been filled with a desperation to get away from the physical contact with him. Not that she was going to tell him that. ‘Nope.’

‘I guess you never miss leg day at the gym. That was impressive. Even if it’s going to cost me more than my fee to come out here to replace the damn thing.’

‘If you’re expecting me to apologise …’ she began, pulling her legs free of him and executing a messy parachute roll off the wreckage of the sofa bed.

‘Of course not. You freed me. You’re my hero. Thank you.’ He sat up and sent her a lopsided grin, pulling his foot in towards him and inspecting the damage. It did look a bit red, but there was no other damage as far as Kay could see around the rubbing of his long, agile fingers. She swallowed and averted her eyes. What was she, some desperate Victorian man getting all excited at a glimpse of ankle?

‘Well, better get that two hours of sleep now.’

‘Yes. Sorry. Night.’

‘Goodnight.’

She walked back to the doorway of the bedroom and made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder at him. He’d jumped up onto his feet now and was attempting to flatten a space in the broken parts of the sofa. He pulled back the covers and revealed that the cushions had been punctured by springs.

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