Page 11 of It's In His Hiss

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself.” I can’t help but crack a smile. “At least you’re an interesting disaster.”

“Thanks, Gordy,” she says dryly, but I catch the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. She tapsher chin thoughtfully. “So, if Iama witch, do I get, like, powers? Can I fly? Turn things into frogs? Because I gotta be honest, I feelwildlyunqualified for this gig.”

I shake my head. “I think witchcraft is a little more complex than that.”

She snaps her fingers dramatically. “Darn. No instant broomstick privileges.”

Then, her gaze lands on apile of books on the counter. “What if I just… try something?”

I frown. “Try what, exactly?”

She wiggles her fingers over the books like she’s casting a spell. “Move, O Books of the Ancient Texts! Fly forth and reveal your secrets!”

Nothing happens.

She pouts. “Lame.”

Then—one of the books suddenly topples over.

We both freeze.

Alice gasps. “Did I just?—”

I glance around, skeptical. “Could’ve been gravity.”

Alice narrows her eyes. “Or could’ve beenwitchy prowess.”

The bookshifts again, and my snakesall go still like they’re listening.

Alice takes a slow step back. “Okay. Little spooky. Not gonna lie.”

I shuffle a step closer to her, drawn by the intensity in her eyes as she contemplates the possibility of hidden magic in her veins. Her brows are furrowed in concentration, and she absently bites her lip, lost in thought. It’s adorable and maddening all at once. The bookstore around us fades into a blur. It’s just Al and me in this bubble of revelations and rising tension.

“Gordy?” she says, her voice pulling me back from the edge of my thoughts. “You’re staring.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, my gaze dipping for a moment. “It’s just…you make thinking look good.”

“Is that a line from one of your dusty romance novels?” she asks, though her cheeks are tingedwith pink, and her eyes hold a sparkle that wasn’t there before.

“Maybe it’s a new one I’m considering writing,” I fire back, allowing myself a small grin. “The Tale of the Enchanting Bookworm and the Gorgon Who Loves Her.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re the star,” she retorts with mock arrogance. But then she glances up under long lashes, and the air between us charges with something unsaid but felt deeply.

“Stars are overrated,” I whisper, leaning in an inch too close. “I’d rather be the guy who falls for one.”

Her breath catches, and the sound sends a thrill straight through me. The urge to kiss her is like a physical ache, growing more insistent with each passing second. But a gnawing fear nags at the back of my mind, a worry about the creatures that crown my head, hidden beneath the knit cap I’ve hastily slapped over them.

My snakes hiss softly as if they can sense my desire, and their displeasure is palpable. Their cool scales brush against my scalp, a constant reminder of the danger I pose. What would happen if one ofthem bit her? If my gaze met hers for a fraction too long?

“Gordy?” Alice’s voice is soft, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I lie, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “Just thinking about things.”

“Like what?” She tilts her head, her curiosity piqued, unaware of the internal battle I’m waging.

“Like how much trouble we might get into if I’m not careful.” My words are light, but the meaning behind them is heavy with implications.

“Trouble’s not always bad,” she says, her tone teasing, yet I catch a flicker of daring in her eyes. She’s challenging me without even knowing it.

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