Page 23 of The Trouble With Spells
Frowning, I looked down at my feet, trying to understand what he was saying. “You still want to take me on a date. Afterthis?” My voice rose an octave, and I pointed between us.
He shrugged, “I mean, why not? You’re not planning to do any more spell casting, though, right?”
“Definitely not.”
“Then we should still go. And you promised your friend.” He heaved himself off the couch, holding out his hand to pull me to my feet. “Reschedule your client and we’ll talk about what our options are with the spell.”
Frowning at him, I said, “You’re being way cooler about this than I thought you would be.”
“Honestly, after everything else that has happened, I’m not even surprised.”
“And you still want to take me on a date?” I didn’t even try to keep the skepticism out of my voice.
He let out a little huff of air and ran a hand through his seriously messed up hair. “Not sure what it says about me, but yeah, I do.”
“Huh,” I stared up at the ceiling, “weird.”
“Says the witch who can’t cast a spell.”
He had me there.
Chapter Eleven
Michael
Callum and I were bound together.
Because apparently, he was a terrible witch, who couldn’t do spells without dire consequences.
Because that’s how my life was going.
But damn, he was cute.
And those eyes of his were stunning.
And I liked it when we held hands.
A small part of me wondered if he had cast a love spell over me, because I couldn’t remember ever being as besotted by someone so quickly as I was with Callum.
Even being bound to him, not being able to get more than ten feet apart from each other without my head exploding, didn’t upset me as much as it should have.
There were worsepeople to be bound to.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared up at the ceiling of Callum’s upstairs bathroom, thinking it could use a fresh coat of paint. The entire bathroom could use a fresh coat of paint. Updated tile. A new tub. The narrow room was pushing what I would classify as a full-size bathroom, and it was straight out of the nineteen sixties. Pepto pink tile and all.
“Dude, are you going to go or what?” Tapping my foot, I stared straight ahead, out into the hallway that ran the length of the upstairs.
“I’m trying!” Callum hissed, “You’re not looking, are you?”
“Not yet. Want me to hold it for you?” A smirk played on my lips.
“Not helping!”
The wind howled outside, shaking the old house with its force. “So, um…this walking tour thing?”
“What about it?”
Wincing as thunder rumbled loudly, I shook my head. “Is the weather any kind of deterrent? Do we need an umbrella? Not that it would help much,” I mumbled the last part under my breath.
