Page 93 of Charmed, I'm Sure
Magnolia was a vision—and a tease—as she danced around in my button-up from last night. The sleeves were rolled to her elbows, the hem brushing her thighs. Her hair was piled haphazardly on her head, swaying slightly as she sang along toLove Drunk. When she lifted her arms and swayed them above her head in time with the music, I lost any hope of keeping my cool.
The hem of my shirt inched higher, teasing me with a glimpse of skin just below her ass, and it took every ounce of self-control to stay put.
I stood there, watching, as an absurd sense of pride swelled in my chest. She moved around the kitchen like it was hers, not mine. My cheeks ached from smiling, but I couldn’t help it. She had me utterly captivated.
I was just about to make my presence known when she flicked her hand toward the sink. My words caught in my throat as water gushedfrom the faucet, and soap spilled into the basin. Then, with another wave of her hand, steam rose from a mug as a spoon inside it began to stir itself.
What the actual fuck?
Blinking, I rubbed my eyes, sure I was hallucinating from exhaustion. But then, with yet another flourish of her fingers, the music skipped to a new song mid-chorus.
My pulse thundered in my ears as my thoughts—slow as dial-up internet—latched onto one, unavoidable conclusion. Those rumors weren’t just rumors. Magnolia really was a witch.
How many times had she used magic around me without my noticing? Was she a good witch? Were bad witches even a thing? How many witches lived in town? Was it hereditary?
A thousand thoughts spiraled through my mind, but there was one that played on repeat.
“She’s really a witch.”
Shit. Did I just say that out loud?
Magnolia spun around, her wide eyes locking onto mine as her hands flew to her mouth. Everything stopped—the water, the spoon, even the air in the room.
“Taylor, I… I can explain,” she stammered. Tears welled in her eyes, and even from across the room, I could see her chest rising and falling in unsteady breaths. She lookedterrified.
“Mags—” I started, stepping toward her.
“I’m so sorry,” she blurted, backing away. “I never wanted you to find out like this.”
When she hit the island behind her, I quickened my steps.
“Taylor, I’m so sorry. I—”
“Shhh.Mags, baby, it’s okay.”
Her tears spilled over as she crumbled. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her close. Relief washed over me when she didn’t pull away.
Sure, it was shocking to learn witches weren’t just a fairytale. And yeah, dating one was… different. But she was still Magnolia.
MyMagnolia.
The biggest highlight was that she wasn’t green like that one from the play my mom and sister loved so much.
Or was that just theWizard of Oz?
Damn it, focus, Taylor.
Holding her tightly, I stroked soothing lines down her back until her breathing steadied. Then, lifting her by the waist, I set her gently on the counter and tilted her face up to mine, swiping away her tears with my thumb.
“Magnolia,” I murmured, “I need you to hear me. Are you a witch?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Cool. I don’t care.”
Her teary eyes widened in shock.
“I mean, I care a little that you didn’t tell me,” I admitted, pressing my forehead to hers. “But I understand why you didn’t.”
