Page 52 of The Secret Life of a Witch

He shakes his head. “Some of what I just said is from the intro to the Mystic Willow Bay Society handbook.”

I want to laugh at the absurdity, but his dead serious expression kills my humor.

“You act like you’re in this society.”

Reluctance crosses his expression. “That’s because I am. My father is, too.” He stares down at his hands as if they’re the most fascinating things in the world. “So are Ryleigh and her father and mother.”

Time literally stops. Dies. Freezes.

Okay, that’s not true. However, part of me wishes it would so that I don’t have to move forward and ask the next question.

My throat dries, and I force down a swallow. “You saidherfather. As in, just Ryleigh’s father, and not mine … Does she …?” Another forced swallow. “Is Ryleigh not my sister? Was she just pretending to be because she was working undercover—or whatever the hell it is you’re doing when you pretend to be my friend?”

“I’ve never pretended to be your friend. Was it part of my job? Yes. But you were too easy to be friends with, so there was never any pretending.” His gaze elevates to mine. “You made me really love my job.”

I will not let his words send my stomach into a fit of flutters. I won’t!

Of course, my stomach has its own ideas and goes mad wild, butterfly crazy.

Stupid traitor stomach. What the heck is wrong with me! This isn’t a good thing!

Shoving the flutters down, I glare at him. “So, you’ve been in this society thingy since you were, like, twelve? That seems a little young to be doing that sort of stuff, doesn’t it?”

Remorse flickers across his expression. “I was actually fourteen.”

“But you weren’t fourteen when I met you …” I trail off as he gives me another apologetic look. “You even lied about your age!”

“I had to,” he insists, reaching for me. “It was the best way for me to get close.”

I scoot away from him until my back bumps into the footboard. “So, everything was a lie? Every time we hung out, every moment we shared, every promise …?” My gaze flits to the stars on my ceiling then back to him. “Everything?”

His gaze is melded to mine as he shakes his head. “I think you know that’s not true.”

True. And the trust spell is definitely telling me everything’s just dandy. At least, what he’s saying. That doesn’t mean I have to be okay with it.

“No, the only thing I really know for sure is that you’re a liar and you’re old.”

His brow meticulously crooks. “Old? I’m only two years older than you.”

“Yep, two yearsolder.” I stretch my legs out and cross my arms, putting on a casual demeanor. “Which makes you old to me.”

He narrows his eyes, yet his lips threaten to tilt upward. “I know for a fact that you definitely don’t look at me as old.”

His words burrow under my skin, causing me to squirm.

Does he know I’m in love with him?

Unable to stand the discomfort, I change the subject. “You never answered my question about Ryleigh not being my sister. And I have a pretty strong feeling you did it purpose.”

“I might have,” he admits, both truthfully and shamefully. “Before I answer that part, though, you need to brace yourself.”

“Consider myself braced,” I lie. Well, I don’t mean to lie. I honestly believe I’m prepared for just about anything at this point.

Then he opens his mouth and utters, “Ryleigh isn’t your sister … And neither of your parents are your mom and dad.”

Suddenly, my world is spinning out of control.

And not because of the sleep spell.

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