Page 37 of The Secret Life of a Witch

“Look at me with pity.” I face forward in the seat. “I hate it when you do that. And while we’re at it, you should stop looking at me altogether.”

“Okaaay,” he drags out the word as he shifts the truck into reverse. “I’m just going to keep my mouth shut until you’re ready to tell me what’s really bothering you.”

The fact that he knows my anger isn’t fully stemming from him stealing my old buddy and kissing some demon floors me even more.

Gah! Why does he seem to know me better than I know myself!

“No, you’re going to talk to me,” I declare, reaching over and shoving the shifter into park. Or, well, I try to. Instead, the gears grind.

Hunter spits out a sequence of colorful words as he slams on the brakes. Then he reels around in his seat. “All right, start talking, or I’m going to make you walk home.”

“Of course you will.” My tone oozes sarcasm as I roll my eyes. I know I’m being a brat, but I’m hurting inside. What if he did betray me? What if he was never my best friend? “Newsflash, Hunter, I learned a long time ago that all your threats are empty. At least the ones you make to me.”

He narrows his eyes at me, but his lips threaten to turn upward. “Oh, did you?”

I cross my arms and raise my brows defiantly. “I did.”

His brow curves upward. “So, what you’re saying is that I won’t make you walk home if you don’t start telling me why you suddenly have a stick up your butt?”

I raise my chin. “Yep, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

We stare at each other inside the cab, each stubbornly refusing to look away and lose the staring contest we have silently entered. The longer we stare at each other, the more I start to doubt that Hunter was the one who told the hybrids where my sister’s body was.

This is Hunter, my best friend, who cares about me.

The sun is starting to descend around the steep mountains that encompass the town, casting a pink-orange glow across the sky. Add that to the lingering rainbows still hanging around from the rainbow storm and the hundreds of various colors spilling into the cab, it makes us both appear like we’re in technicolor.

“You look like a disco ball pooping rainbows,” I say stoically, in an attempt to get him to crack.

“Well, you always look like a disco ball pooping rainbows,” he quips with a clever smirk.

I gasp, pressing my fingertips to my lips. “You so did not go there.”

“Yep, I sure did. Don’t worry, though; I think rainbow popping disco balls are pretty.” Before I can even react, he’s opening his door. “But they need to be taught a lesson.” With that, he climbs out of the truck and strides for the passenger side.

I hurry and flip the locks, then stick out my tongue at him. “Ha, ha, you left the keys in the ignition, so the joke’s on you.”

“You really think that can stop me?” His eyes glimmer in technicolor as he reaches into his back pocket and produces his wand.

“Nice try, but the demon’s curse hit, remember?” I remind him, yet still inch my fingers toward the lock, just in case.

He grins self-assuredly, lines the tip of the wand to the window, and begins to chant an unlocking spell.

Sparks shower from the wand and glitter across the glass like tiny flakes of diamonds. The lock unclicks, and I move to tap it back down, but he beats me to punch and flings the door open.

I scramble for the driver’s side, knowing I’m overreacting. There’s no way he’s going to throw me out of his truck and make me walk home.

No way in all the witches in the world?—

He snags ahold of my ankle as I’m in the process of head-diving into the driver’s seat and drags me back.

I latch on to the steering wheel. “Seriously? You’re actually going to try to drag me out of your truck?”

“No.” He releases my ankle. “I’m not going to try. I’mgoingto.” His body is suddenly on top of mine so we’re chest to back to ass to … Well, you know.

My eyes widen in shock. The distraction is enough that he easily pries my fingers from the steering wheel.

“Hunter,” I grunt as he pushes back and flips me over onto my back so I’m sprawled across the bench seat. “This is getting out of hand.”

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