Page 17 of A Touch Charmed

“Why won’t you let me see?” I circled her, giving her the grin that had gotten me more than a few dates without me even asking. “Is it a naked picture? Is that why you don’t want to show me?”

The tips of her ears turned red, but her expression remained impassive. “You think you’re being cute, but I bet you wouldn’t have the balls to let me draw you naked.”

I raised my eyebrows. That was not the prim and proper response of a politician’s daughter. I hadn’t been expecting a challenge, but I wasn’t about to turn it down. “If that’s what you want, I’ll strip right now.”

“Not necessary. There are plenty of acorns outside I can use for a frame of reference. They’re about the same size, right?”

I let out a barking laugh and was rewarded with the smallest of smiles. I should not have liked this girl, but I really, really did.

For the next month, I pestered her to show me her drawings. I’d sneak up behind her in the hall, whisper in her ear at her locker, pleased with the way she’d shiver, but she never gave me more than that. Until one day she asked me to meet her after school. The anticipation had me jumping out of my skin.

At the end of the day, I stepped into the art room, where Thora was already waiting for me. Not nearly as full of myself as I’d been the month before. “Tell me the truth, you’re just going to let me see one of your drawings so I’ll stop annoying you.”

She tapped a finger to her lips. “That is a side benefit I’d never considered.”

“Ouch.” I clapped a hand over my heart. “You know, there are plenty of other girls at this school who would be thrilled to have my attention.”

“Cool. Then go bother one of them.”

Not a chance. She had me all the way wrapped up already, but I wasn’t about to let her know that. She acted so above it all, like she didn’t need anyone. It scared me how bad I wanted to be the one person she’d admit she did need.

“But no one keeps me humble like you do.” She wore her hair in a neat ponytail, and I gave the end of it a playful tug. “Are you going to show me this picture or what?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “You have to promise not to laugh if you hate it.”

“I would never.” I mimed crossing my heart.

She lifted a page on her sketchpad and turned it toward me.

And I stopped breathing.

She’d drawn me, but not the me who walked these halls, loud and boisterous and confident in my place here. This version of me had shadows at his back. A cocky smile and wary eyes filled with doubt. The part of me that had come from the streets and was still clawing my way out of that gutter. The side of me I never let anyone see.

“How did you…?” I swallowed as shame and awe fought a war inside me.

Her face fell. “You don’t like it.”

“No, I do. It’s just…” I rubbed the back of my neck, at a loss for what to say. Anything dumb I might’ve said in an attempt to be charming felt so fake now. I couldn’t be like that with her. “I just wish you didn’t see me that way.”

Surprise lit her eyes. “Why?”

“Because that guy”—I gestured to the portrait—“isn’t good enough for you.”

“Finn.” Her expression softened as she set her sketchbook aside. “I drew this guy”—she placed a hand over my heart—“because I think he’s beautiful.”

That was the day I realized there was more to Thora than a gorgeous face and a cool façade, that maybe there were also parts of her that were a little lost and a lot alone.

“I should probably stop touching you now.” She spread her fingers over my bare chest, the feather-light softness of her hands raising goosebumps on my skin.

“That might be a good idea.” I probably should’ve taken a step back, but as long as I didn’t cross any lines, I saw no harm in letting her touch me like this.

“Just… give me a minute.” She swirled the tip of her finger around my nipple, and because my speed magic was in full effect, she moved achingly slow. Her touch trailed downward, over my abs. My stomach tightened in response. “So beautiful.”

She reached the edge of my sweatpants and my cock twitched. I was so fucking hard, if so much as a breeze blew in right now, I’d end up embarrassing myself. Her nail skimmed the elastic, which was my signal to put the brakes on before it went any further.

I grabbed her wrist. “Playtime is over, gorgeous.”

“I’m sorry.” She backed away from me in horror. I really tried not to take that personally, but fuck. That was not the reaction I usually got from women. “You saved my life in the woods and let me stay in your house, and I can’t stop throwing myself at you.”

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