Page 41 of Hexes and Exes

“What's the peace offering for?” If anything, I’m the one who should apologize for the most recent prank, but my phone chirps on the counter and there’s no way. He deserves all the glitter dicks in the world for the stupid messages. “How do I know you haven’t added laxatives or something to make me vomit?”

Bram’s face screws up in disgust. “Because I’m not a masochist; why would I want to watch that?” He shrugs, a hint of a smile tipping up his lips. “Besides, maybe it’s an apology for all the nipple pics.”

“Ha! I knew that was your fault. Why are they even coming to me?” I jam my finger into his hard chest and immediately snatch my hand back. I really should keep my hands to myself.

Bram doesn’t comment on my touch, but his lips twitch. “I put a post on Craigslist.”

My mouth hangs open. “Is that still a thing?’

“Obviously. People still need to find roommates and a third for their marriage.” Bram’s smiling so wide, I spot his dimple. Damn, it’s disarming. A man this dark and stormy shouldn’t have a dimple.

I snort and hold the door wide to invite him in. “I’m going to start forwarding them to you. If I have to see them, you should suffer too. These are not male model nipples. FYI.”

Bram heads over to the couch and sets the bags on the coffee table. His dark hair shimmers when he turns to stare at me. “I had to take three showers and I’m still sparkling.”

I cackle and head to the kitchen to grab a drink. “Still not even. Coke, water, or beer?” I call out.

“Coke, please.”

I peek over at Bram and find him pulling out containers of food. It’s Chinese. Damn, did he read my mind? I grab a few napkins and join him on the couch with our drinks.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got an assortment of stuff.”

I peer down at the takeout boxes and my stomach growls loudly. “I like all of it.” I grab the box of noodles and press it to my chest like a dragon with treasure. The chopsticks are poised in front of my mouth when I turn and stare contemplatively at Bram.

“I’m going to need you to eat this first.”

“What? Why?” Bram scoffs.

“I told you, laxatives. Bugs? I don’t know how far your perversion goes.”

Bram rolls his eyes and opens his mouth. I’m struck dumb, mesmerized by the fact that he’s waiting for me to feed him. He did it at the bakery earlier today too, and I almost combusted when he licked my finger. I don’t care if it was an accident, it was hot.

I hold out the bite, doubtful he’s really going to let me feed him. He leans in and eats the noodles. His thumb brushes against the corner of his mouth to catch the extra sauce. Why is that so damn attractive?

“How long are you going to wait to see if I croak?”

I shovel a bunch of noodles into my mouth. “I’m good,” I mumble and then swallow. “I guess if this is a set-up, at least you’ll be a victim too.”

Bram shakes his head and picks up another box before settling back onto the couch. His eyes drift up to the TV, where regency dancers spin around a ballroom. “What are you watching?”

“Do I hear judgment in your tone? I’m watching a show in my own house.” I steal a piece of chicken from his box. When I go for a second one, he uses his chopstick like a sword to stop me.

“Not judging. Just curious.”

I huff, because I definitely hear judgment in his tone. We’re quiet while we eat, and the couple on screen awkwardly flirts and tries to pretend they aren’t into each other.

“Are you okay after seeing your dad today?” Bram sets down his empty container and opens up his Coke with a pop and a hiss.

“Yeah.” I keep my eyes fixed to the screen, where a lot of intense eye contact is going on between the two leads.

“Lie.”

My head swivels around. Bram looks relaxed, slumped back on the couch. He’s changed out of his suit from earlier and is wearing a pair of jeans and a faded Prince T-shirt. His normally clean-shaven face is sporting a five o’clock shadow. His aura is a calm blue, and despite how agitated he was in his office earlier today, he looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him.

I set my noodles down and grab my drink to have something to do with my hands.

“It’s always stressful seeing my dad. We don’t have the best relationship.”

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