Page 22 of My Blind Date is a Warlock

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Is everything sorted between the two of you?”

Jacob laughed bitterly at my question, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hardly. Gem will carry this grudge to her grave.”

I tried not to bristle at the use of the affectionate nickname. It was probably a habit that he fell back into every now and then, which meant they had been together long enough for the habit to form.

“Gemma and I dated for a few months, and apparently that made her think I was going to ask her to marry me when her birthday came around. When I didn’t, she freaked out on me. Long story short, I ended things, and not soon after, my grandmother sent me searching for the Book of Shadows,” he explained, starting the car.

“You don’t owe me any explanations, Jacob,” I said, quietly staring out the window as he maneuvered his way out of the driveway, being careful not to smash into any of the other cars. I turned around to face him when I felt his hand curl around mine, interlocking our fingers and bringing them up to his mouth for a kiss on the knuckles.

“I know, but I wanted to tell you so that we had no miscommunications. I didn’t want you thinking that I’m not serious about wanting to be with you. It might be early days yet, but I’m in this for the long haul, Sophia, and I need to know you’ll be right here with me every step of the way.”

The words were right there on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say them. Instead, I apologized for my earlier outburst and thanked him again for helping me out in the store. There was a flash of disappointment that he worked to hide quickly, and he gave our interlocked hands a gentle squeeze and held them on his lap the entire drive home. Guilt stabbed at me for not giving him the words he wanted to hear. I needed to work through this roadblock before our relationship imploded before my eyes.

CHAPTER 20

I must have dozed off because I didn’t remember getting out of Jacob’s car and walking up to my bedroom. He must have carried me up and deposited me on the bed. I flushed at the thought of him divesting me of my shoes and jeans.

He’d left the curtains to my bedroom open, the soft glow of the moon casting everything in silver light and the breeze sending the gauzy material fluttering like a ghostly figure. I shivered, the chilly winds washing over my sweat-soaked body. My sheets and pillows were soaked through and my hair stuck to my forehead and the nape of my neck. My chapped lips tasted salty. Some of it had even crystallized on my skin as the sweat dried. I still felt pretty weak and tired, but my fever had died down.

Someone had left a glass of water and two Tylenol on my nightstand next to my phone. After taking the meds, I stripped the sheets off my bed, removed the pillowcases, and took off what was left of my sweat-stained clothes, intending to toss them in the washing machine downstairs before going back up for a shower. Barefooted and wrapped in only a towel, I made my way downstairs in the dark, keeping an eye out for Chairman Meow. He liked to wander off, but he was usually back by now, sleeping at either the foot of my bed or on the pillow next to mine.

“Soph, is that you?” a gritty voice asked in the dark as I crossed the living room into the kitchen. A huge figure rose up from the three-seater couch. A blood-curdling scream ripped through the silent night before my mouth could catch up to my brain, which had already clocked that the dark figure was Jacob. My hands were already moving too, the laundry basket lying at my feet as I grabbed my jeans and tossed them at him, wishing it was something with more weight behind it.

He caught the pants midair with ease and rushed to turn the lights on, flooding the room with a bright yellowish-white glow that hurt my eyes. “Easy, babe, it’s just me!”

If you looked at my chest, you would have seen my towel pulsing up and down in tandem with my racing heart. I clutched the towel close to my chest before it unraveled.

“What are you skulking around in the dark half-naked for?” I yelled at him, my eyes glued to his ripped muscles. He was dressed in just his boxer briefs, his shirt, blazer, and pants hanging over the back of one of my couches. Chairman Meow was sleeping on the blazer, getting his cat fur all it. Blue-green eyes glared at me, his pupils narrowed to thin slits before he closed them and curled up to sleep once more.

“I wasn’t skulking,” Jacob began, rolling my jeans up and returning them to me. I tried, the goddess knows I tried, to keep my eyes from trailing a path down his washboard abs to the deep V at his hips and disappearing beneath the waistband of his Calvins. Mentally reciting the recipe for the energy tonic Piper always had me make for her, I attempted to rein in my wild thoughts and force myself to stare at his eyes and his eyes only. Eyes that reflected back the same heat that burned me up from the inside out—and no, I wasn’t talking about my fever. The sheer intensity of want and need coming from Jacob took my breath away. I wanted to let the towel drop and rub myself against his body, trace my fingers over the dips and grooves of his abs, to feel if his body hair was as coarse as it appeared or as soft as the hair on his head.

“I was sleeping when I heard you come down the stairs and I thought maybe something was wrong. How are you feeling?” He was asking practical questions, yet his voice was smoke and honey.

“I feel—” My voice broke and I had to clear my throat before speaking again. “I feel sticky, sweaty, and hot. But much better than before. What are you doing here?”

“I couldn't leave you all alone when you were feeling under the weather, could I? Your sister and Catherine both agreed that I should stay to keep an eye on you overnight,” he explained, gathering the blankets and clothes and putting them in the laundry hamper.

“They were here?” My eyes went to the coffee table where three coffee mugs sat.

He nodded. “Your sister says you should be fine with some rest and maybe some cold medicine to relieve the flu symptoms, but we had an interesting talk, the three of us.”

“About?” I prompted when it looked like he wasn’t going to bother explaining further. My stomach chose that moment to growl, and it wasn’t anything quiet or subdued. Jacob laughed and took the hamper into the kitchen.

“Go take your shower. I’ll make you something to eat and then we can talk.”

CHAPTER 21

It was around ten-thirty at night when I pushed away an empty plate, my stomach filled up with the omelets Jacob had made. We were seated on the kitchen stools on the same side of my island counter, with the windows cracked open as well as the door that led outside. Aside from the ambient sounds of nature floating in from the outside and the occasional clink of cutlery as we ate, the only other background noise was the low hum of the washing machine as it worked. Jacob stood up and gathered the empty dishes into the sink.

“Leave them. I’ll wash them tomorrow,” I said when he reached for the dishwashing liquid. Something told me he was stalling for time, and that made me nervous. Standing up, I reached into the cupboard for two glasses, grabbed some ice, and poured us each some ice tea. “Sit,” I ordered.

When he complied, I sat next to him and turned to face him so that both of his knees were on either side of mine.

“Now, tell me what you all talked about. Did you find out what’s wrong with me?”

Jacob gulped and drained his tea in one go, the ice cubes hitting against the glass when he placed it back on the counter.

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