Page 246 of Castings & Curses

“What are you thinking about so loudly?” Arlo asked, taking a dollop of salve on his fingertip as he started to tend my wounds.

“Nothing. Just memories.”

“Good ones?”

“Hardly,” I replied, and snorted in the worst possible way. Arlo laughed and shook his head. I couldn’t see it, since I was facing the other way, but I heard his collar rustle with the movement.

“Tell me about it,” he said, tugging the towel lower in order to reach more of the semi-healed scrapes.

“I was thinking of my first boyfriend,” I said, feeling him still behind me.

“Oh? Pining for your lost love?”

“Lost love? Um, No. The relationship was doomed from the start. He was a real bully. Halfway through it, he started giving me orders. Like grabbing my food from me when we were out, even with friends, telling me loudly I shouldn’t finish this or that. It got really embarrassing. At the end, he told me I was pretty enough, but way too big to take seriously as a girlfriend.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yep. He was the son of an important wizard, someone my Dad did business with.”

“No one should ever belittle the person they’re dating to feel good about themselves.”

Arlo had a point. I understood that now, of course. I mean, I was younger when it happened, inexperienced. It hurt at the time, but it didn’t break me.

“Did he give an excuse for being a dickhead?”

“He said he needed a certain type of woman on his arm. I’d thought he was special, but he wasn’t. He was just messing around with me, wasting my time until he told me what he really wanted—”

“And that was?”

“For me to change. He wanted me to lose weight, dress differently, straighten my hair—a million other little things all just to suit his needs and feed his ego,” I whispered.

Arlo’s hands stilled on my back, and I instantly missed their warm progression. I don’t know why, but I always seemed to confess the most intimate things around this wizard.

As if he cared or something.

“Listen to me, that guy had a ton of issues and not a single one of them was on you. From what I have seen, you are nothing but kind, patient, caring, brilliant, and so beautiful it hurts to look at you.”

“You don’t have to say things like that to me,” I began, my pulse racing.

“I don’t have to, but I want you. You’re beautiful inside and out. That boy wasn’t for you, sweet Jade.”

“I guess not. But he was the first boy I dated. The first boy I slept with. It hurt at the time, but I got over it. He wasn’t the only one to say things like that. The last guy I dated had the same sort of criticisms. I make great friend material, and I sure am a good lay. Cute, fun to play around with, but not made for serious dating,” I confessed.

“Is that how you feel about yourself?” he asked.

I frowned.

Why was I even telling him these things?

Did I want him to pity me?

To give me a sympathy bone?

And was he right?

Did I think these things about myself?

Well, apart from me being cute and a good lay, there was only one answer.

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