Mor’s face takes on a pink hue, and I wonder if she’s embarrassed by her gaffe or flushing that pretty color because the man in front of her is someone she’s interested in.
Of course she is. He’s probably smart and funny, and he knows how to use the internet.
“No worries. I understand what it’s like to fall down a research rabbit hole.” He waves at her books. “But I also know that’s hungry business. You up for taking a break to get a quick bite? I have a few hours before I need to be back on campus for my next class.”
A class that he teaches. A class I wouldn’t even be qualified to attend.
“Food. Yes. That’s a good idea.” Mor pushes to her feet, only to bend backward enough to set off a series of cracks in her spine while also pressing her full breasts against the clinging fabric of her sweater.
Then her eyes meet mine.
“Hey, Bo, would you be okay with watching the library for an hour? If anyone shows up, looking for me, you can give them my card or tell them to wait until I’m back.”
I scratch the back of my neck, then fist my hand and tuck both of them into my pockets before Breen gets a look at my webbed fingers. “Sure.”
Mor hits me with a big, broad smile, and I stutter through my next breath.
“You’re the best. I can bring you something back for lunch.”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” I mumble.
“No trouble.” She circles the table and tugs out one of my hands, and then, like the webbing spread between my fingers bothers her none, she drops the skeleton key for the front door into my palm and tucks my fingers back around it. The metal is warm from being in the pocket of her jeans. “Remind me that I need to make you a copy of that.”
All I can manage is a nod, then remain standing as still as the statue I used to be as Mor falls into step beside the intelligent man escorting her out for food.
I’ve never been so jealous of another living creature in my life.
22
Mor
The problemwith going on a lunch date in a small town is that everyone at the café we choose knows me. The barista—who makes a new latte concoction for me without asking because she knows I rarely ever drink the same thing twice—flits her eyes between Jaylen and me. A little smile playing around her lips widens when he holds out cash for my order before I can remember what pocket I stuck my credit card into.
“You two take a seat, and I’ll bring your drinks out,” the siren sings. Okay, she doesn’t actually sing the words. If she did, we’d both forget what came out of her mouth less than a minute later.
One of the mythic’s interesting traits. Also why sailors used to crash their boats on rocky shores. They wanted to get closer, hear the music again, because they couldn’t recall the exact sound of it, only that it was the loveliest tune they had ever heard.
“Thanks so much, Lily.” Jaylen reads the moniker off her name tag as he stuffs his change in thedon’t tip cows, tip mejar.
Nice to waitstaff. Generous tipper.
Those are both green flags.
And still, when we settle at a two-person table by the window and exchange small talk about books we like and his work and mine, I search for a spark that’s not there.
It’s not that I’m seeking out a fated mate. There’s no definitive lore stating that witches have or should expect a destined lover. So, no, I’m not looking for some sign from the gods.
I’m simply hoping for a touch of attraction. On my part.
But no. Nothing.
I can look at Jaylen and say he’s good-looking. That he’s successful, that he’s generous.
But there’s no part of me that can picture us in a bed together. Not even kissing.
This is why I hate dating. It’s not that I don’t want a partner. It’s that I do, and no one, not ever, has felt right. Plenty of the people I’ve gone out with should have been tempting to me. For their mind, or looks, or personality. I’m not a virgin, having slept with a few in the hopes that would get the spark burning. But at the most, all I’ve ever ended up wanting was friendship.
Jaylen is the same. I could envision doing trivia nights with him. Inviting him over for happy hour on the dock. Maybe going to a bookstore together. Nothing sensual though.
