He watches Lindsay with interest, his gold eyes sparkling as he looks her up and down.
“How could she be a werewolf without knowing?” Vyla asks, incredulous.
“Lots of weres shift later in life than expected,” he says. His rich voice is rumbly and warm, despite the shiver it sends through me. He also has a subtle accent that I can’t place. Nordic, if I had to guess. The man could narrate erotic audiobooks and make a fortune. I’d tell him as much if I weren’t worried it could be taken as sexual harassment, and I’m not going to risk losing the first job I’ve truly enjoyed in years. He’s so tall that he has to bend at the waist to lean on the bar, which he does, next to Lindsay. “Perhaps it hasn’t happened for you yet?”
She chokes out a laugh. “I’m in my forties, man. If I were part wolf, I think I’d know by now.” If she notices the way Rizlan is ogling her, she doesn’t point it out. Her focus is on Vyla. “A witch, though. That’s a possibility.”
I gawk at her. “Really? What makes you think that? Andwhyare you just telling me now?”
She chews on the inside of her cheek, thoughtful. “I have this vague memory of Dad telling me about his nonna, and how she’d have herbs drying all over the kitchen, and she’d recite things under her breath while cooking. How she’d break out these old books and teach him rituals for good luck.”
I know I’m staring, but I can’t help it. There are a million questions running through my head.
She jerks back. “What? It’s not like he taught me any of this shit. I have zero magical powers. I can’t even wrap a present without using nine pieces of tape.”
“What about Penelope? Did she practice any magic?”
Lindsay shakes her head. “Not that I know of.”
Vyla unrolls her impressively long, textured tongue and waggles it at Rizlan. “Ten bucks, dingus.”
Rizlan rolls his eyes playfully as he pulls out his wallet and drops two five-dollar bills in her palm. “Innocent mistake.” He pins Lindsay with a heated gaze. “I sensed a wildness in you. Guess I was wrong.”
Lindsay finally picks up on the flirtation, and she smirks, but holds up her hand. “I’m incredibly flattered,” she lets her gaze linger on Rizlan’s sharp jawline and wide chest, “but I’m not open for business. Maybe never again.”
He nods, patient and mostly unbothered, before heading back behind the bar and talking to Vlad the vampire at the far end.
I never get my chance to tell Lindsay about Winston. We have two more rounds––my last is a water, and Lindsay’s is aLong Island Iced Tea––before walking home. I’m not drunk, but I’m still in no shape to drive, so Lindsay stumbles and I hold her up on our long walk up the hill to Caraway Manor. Anything I tell her now, she likely won’t remember, so I promise myself I’ll tell her tomorrow over coffees and breakfast burritos at Hot & Steamy Coffee Bar.
I text Winston on the walk home that Lindsay still doesn’t know. That he’ll have to remain invisible until tomorrow.
Winston: I refuse to meet the morning sun without feeling your lips on mine. Sincerely Yours, Winston.
A fluttering warmth spreads throughout my stomach, and I don’t even try to hide my smile. Lindsay is singing “Creep” by TLC to herself between hiccups, and has no idea what I’m doing. I didn’t think this giddy feeling was possible for someone my age, but holy shit. The butterflies are there, and they’re multiplying by the second.
I miss you too. Meet me in my room once Lindsay’s asleep?
Btw, you don’t have to add a signature to each text. I know it’s you.
Winston: What is “Btw?” Sincerely Yours, Winston.
It means “By The Way.”
Winston: I see. Regardless, I won’t adhere to the shorthand ribaldry of your generation. It’s embarrassing. How are you not embarrassed?
Whatevs, old man.
Winston: Do not disrespect me, young lady. I’m not above punishing you.
My pussy quivers at the idea of Winston landing a firm hand on my ass enough times to leave a mark.
Mmm. I’m not above begging for that.
Seconds pass as I wait for his reply.
Winston: Come home right now.
I chuckle as I bite my bottom lip, buzzing with anticipation.
