Page 45 of The Royal Street Witch
“No worries.” He throws the towel on the lawn and lies back.
“Has it happened since the last time?” The last time was three days ago.
He sighs, sensing my trepidation. “No.”
I sit up from the lounge chair as Bastian’s finger trails a drop of water down my shoulder. “It’s the potion,” I say, wracking my brain on why it’s happening.
“Maybe,” he says, sitting up next to me. “But it’s hardly any blood.”
“Bastian. That’s not good. Anything else new happening?”
“No, nothing. Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out. It’s my responsibility that my potions do no harm. Unless that’s the intent.”
He laughs at that and stands. “Now, that’s funny,” he says and picks me up in his arms. “I wanna see you wet.” Eyes squinting with mischief, he tosses me into the pool and I allow it, suddenly so hot.
I pop up and while staring at him, tie an invisible rope around his chest and pull him in with a clench of my hand.
Something isn’t right with the potion, and I have to fix it. But he entrances me, over and over. I lie awake at night, trying to predict how it will end, how my heart will be broken, and I can’t picture him not being in my life. I love being by his side next to his pool or dancing on Frenchman. A taste has turned into so much more.
“Were your eyes this green when you were alive?” They are more breathtaking in the sun, lighter, glowing aventerine’s.
“They were. Luc’s were even greener.”
I’m pulled into his arms, disbelieving there was another set of eyes out there greener than the ones I’m looking into. “I still can’t believe this is happening. That I’m allowing this.”
“What’s this?”
“Whatever you call this,” I say waving a finger between us.
“Dating? Going steady? Boyfriend/girlfriend?” He squeezes my ass as I scoff.
“I’m not your girlfriend.”
“Yes, you are,” he laughs. “You’re mine.”
“Stop. I’m not anyone’s.”
“God,” he says with a push. “You are hard to crack.”
Swimming toward the pool steps, I know what I have to say. “This can’t be boyfriend/girlfriend bullshit.” I step out of the pool.
“I know you like me.” He looks up to the sky with a squint, his hand shading his eyes from the sun, his long torso so golden and glistening. “I know you wanna be my girl.”
I towel myself dry and check my phone. “Your time is almost up, Vampire.”
“Say it! Say that you’re my girl.”
I grin with my mouth closed because he’s so ridiculous yet completely endearing.
“You need to get out of the sun, and now I’ve got a spell to fix.”
“You’re gonna say it one day, baby girl,” he yells as I open the sliding glass door. “You’re gonna shout it from the rooftops!”
Shout it from the rooftops, I think as I go over the ingredient list for the potion. Why I’m looking at the ingredients makes no sense. I know them all by heart. And there’s nothing I can change, nothing I can alter that will take away the nose bleeds yet keep the ability to be in the sunlight. Wanting to believe it’s a coincidence is wishful thinking if he’s never had them before.
“Your mom’s on the phone,” Chantal’s voice echoes, and I slam Winnie closed.
