Page 15 of Charmed

"Must've forgotten to wash it off this morning." She checked the cauldron to avoid his nearness. His playful side was one thing, his caveman another. But she had no clue how to handle a stoic version of Riley. "I'll get right on it once I'm done here."

Cursing, he stalked away, dropped his bag by the table, and came back. He cupped her shoulders and forced her to look at him. "I won't let us fail, if that's your concern. My brothers and I said we were all in. I'm right in front of you, trying, Fi."

"Yes," she hissed, then dialed back in order to prove to him her next statement didn't phase her. "Here you are. The great Riley Meath, doing your duty, placating me as if you actually want to be paired together. I don't have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times you've shouted, grumbled, or implied being matched would be the worst imaginable thing."

She shrugged out of his hold and grabbed the shovel. "Forgive me if I have a difficult time believing you." Tamping down the flames, she battled to control her tears threatening to bubble to the surface. She never cried. She unhitched the grate over the dying embers, brought her bare foot to the wall, and used all her strength to slide the cauldron onto the rack to cool. "I'm not your first choice, either."

Huffing, she glared at the steaming pot, hoping he'd just take the hint and leave.

No such luck. He clasped her hands this time and got all up in her business. "I hurt you by saying that, didn't I? That was never my intention."

"I don't have feelings, and if I did, you're not deep enough in my circle to hurt me."

He flinched as if she'd slapped him. Brows furrowed and lips parted, he darted gaze between hers. "Ouch. That was a cheap shot."

Yes, it was. Closing her eyes, she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I think that's my line." His lips flattened. "We even argue about apologizing. Look, things said in fear or frustration shouldn't be taken seriously."

"Words carry weight, Riley." She walked to the counter and snatched a glass bowl. Spooning a third of the batch from the cauldron, she kept her eyes on her chore. "Regardless of how they're meant, what's said inflicts an emotional response."

"What was your response?" He watched her shift back and forth, dividing the lotion into three bowls. "Fiona," he pleaded in a hushed tone that came too close to shredding her resolve. "What emotions did my words inflict?"

Shame. Humiliation. "Contempt, for starters."

"That's not exactly new, you disliking me."

She banged the bowl onto the workstation and glared at him. "I meant contempt within myself. I'm not responsible for your feelings, but never have I ever claimed to dislike you."

Wide-eyed, he gawked at her as if she'd simultaneously kicked him in the balls and done a lap dance. "If that's the truth, why do you give me such a hard time?"

"The state of your hardness isn't my problem, either."

His lids slammed shut. Jaw ticking, he shoved his hand through his hair and opened his eyes. Carnal interest and impatience looked back at her. "You're not jumping for joy to work with me. This goes both ways."

"An object at rest stays at rest, and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force."

His lips parted and he emitted the tiniest exhale in human history. "I can't tell if you reciting Newton's first Law of Physics is the hottest thing to date or if it makes you more intimidating."

She rolled her eyes. "You are the object at rest. I am the one in motion. The curse is the unbalanced force. Understand? There's your answer."

"And, as usual, a non-answer." He strode up to the other side of the workstation and splayed his fingers on top, eyeing her across the wood surface. "Just say what you mean for once."

As if he were ready for a reality check.

She added two drops of lavender oil, three drops of purple coloring, and one drop of her relaxation potion to a bowl, then moved on to the others. Two drops of jasmine oil, three red coloring, one romance potion in the second bowl. And lastly, two drops of orange oil, three of the same color, and one healing potion.

He cleared his throat, loudly, demonstrating he wouldn't be ignored.

Fine. "Just because you agreed to assist in breaking the curse doesn't mean you want to be a part. Fate threw you onto the destiny path after you've been playing in denial land. Meanwhile, I've been preparing for this my whole existence, and now that the day has come, I'm vaulting hurdles because you'd rather be anywhere else, doing anything else."

"You're wrong."

"Rarely." Cradling a bowl in the crook of her arm, she folded the new ingredients into the lotion batch with a spatula.

Even in the off-chance that were the case, there was still the other elephant in the room. He was physically attracted to her, dropped innuendo bombs often, but he would never act on it. Why? Because the problem wasn't that she didn't like him. Nope. He didn't like her. Not enough to don bravery and make a move. Or, getting to the ugly heart of the matter, he was ashamed that an attraction was there at all.

And she was supposed to be thrilled about their match?

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