Page 23 of Mistletoe & Magic
“Not yet,” Rowan says in her usual calm, vaguely menacing tone.
“What do you mean, not yet?”
“I mean exactly what I just said.”
I flop back against the pillows. “Rowan. He just accused you of being a psycho and threatened to sue our whole family.”
She hums, unimpressed. “I’m honored.”
“I’m serious. Did you do anything? Did you show up at his apartment? Hex him?”
“Again, no,” she says, then adds, “But I’d love to do lots of things to Derek.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, afraid to ask. “Such as?”
“Take him on a little field tripto a graveyard.”
“That’s it?”
“Alive,” she clarifies. “Bury him up to his neck. Give the crows something to chew on.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Rowan, gross.”
“Or,” she continues thoughtfully, “super glue all his dresser drawers shut. Put a single sardine in his car’s air vent. Replace the cream in his Oreos with toothpaste.”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“I like to be prepared,” she says, her voice all Wednesday Addams-satisfaction.
I sigh, smiling despite myself. “You’re terrifying.”
“You called me,” she reminds me.
“I did. And since I have you…what’s up with you and Finn?”
There’s a beat of silence. “…What are you talking about?”
“That pause was guilty,” I singsong. “You’re not telling me something.”
“Your phone’s cutting out,” she says immediately. “I can’t—hello?—can you hear?—”
“You’re in your yoga studio; I can hear the clicking of the heater,” I point out.
Another pause. “You’re imagining things.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
“I have to go,” she says, her voice low and deliberate, like she’s ending a business deal.
“You like him,” I say before she can hang up. “And you’re terrible at pretending you don’t.”
Click.
I stare at the phone, then laugh, shaking my head. My sisters are absolute chaos in three different flavors.
And apparently, still hauntingmy ex.
When I wake up, I take a minute to remember where I am. The room is beyond cold, the radiator clicking like it’s trying but failing to do its job, and for a second, I think maybe I’ve dreamed all of this—Junie, the farm, Remy’s permanent scowl.
