Page 39 of The Secret Life of a Witch

His brows pull together. “You need to do two?”

I hesitantly nod. “One for you to promise not to get mad at me for what I’m about to ask, and then one to promise that you’re telling the truth about the answer you give me for the question I have to ask.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes. “You can’t just trust me?”

“I want to—and I really don’t think it’s you—but I need to be positive.” I pause, chewing on my bottom lip, guilt choking me. “I’m sorry. It’s just that … this has to do with my sister.”

If he knows what I’m talking about, he makes no move to acknowledge it. Instead, he slowly nods. “If that’s what you need me to do, then I’ll do it.” He moves his wand between us. “We’re going to have to share my magic in order to create the contracts.”

He’s suggesting sharing magicagain? For the second time in one day? What is with him lately!

I nervously nod, wondering how this is going to work out for us since sharing magic can be an intimate experience and Hunter doesn’t see me like that. I, on the other hand, see him like that all the damn time.

What happens if I try to kiss him or something?

I swallow anxiously at the thought and fold my fingers around Hunter’s wand.

“I-I’ve never done this before, so you’re going to have to w-walk me through t-this.” For the love of all wizards, I sound like a nervous wreck.

“You don’t need to be nervous, Eva. It’s just me.” He strokes my side with his free hand, trying to comfort me. If anything, thegesture makes my nerves bubble more. “And I’ve never done this before, either,” he adds with a trace of a nervous smile. “You get to be my first.”

“I just hope I don’t disappoint you,” I tell him, thinking of my limited magic abilities.

He must take what I say the wrong way, because an artful smirk curves up his face.

“I’m sure you won’t. In fact, I’m betting you’re really good.”

It takes me a handful of glittery seconds to catch on to his meaning, and when I do, I swat his chest.

“Gross, dude.” But so not gross. Not even close. “Since when do you use your dirty lines on me?”

“All the time,” he admits shamelessly. “You usually don’t catch on, though.”

Unsure whether he’s teasing me or being truthful, I clear my throat and focus on making the contract. “So, are we going to do this or what?”

“Nice subject change,” he teases, and then grows serious as he slides his hand upward on his wand, stopping when the sides of our pinkies are touching. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

The silence that follows makes me want to bang my head against the truck.

“So … are you going to start?” I ask, worried he’s backing out.

He studies me for a skip of a heartbeat longer before swallowing and nodding.

His edginess immediately makes me more uneasy.

Why is he nervous? Because he really doesn’t want to do this?

Before my thoughts delve too far into that question, his lips move and the spell drips off his tongue like warm, melted chocolate.

I’m not great at memorizing spells, but I know enough that I’m almost positive he’s creating the first promise contract of not hating me when this is all over.

Once he finishes, his intense gaze carries mine. “Now, repeat exactly what I just said.”

I release a shaky breath and nod. “Okay.” Then I shut my eyes and whisper the spell softly.

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