The longest conversation we’ve had was when I asked her about golden apple mythology. After a break-in at the library a few weeks ago, Ame found an apple hidden in a wall of the library that gave off intense power vibes, and according to legends, firebirds are fans of apples. But when Ophelia was done telling me one of the stories she knew, the woman scampered off, making it clear she liked to spend as little time in my presence as possible.
No need to focus on how that feels like a jagged wound to the gut.
She clicks her pen, tosses her golden ponytail over her shoulder, and flips open the cover of her journal. The academic preparation has my blood pumping hot through my veins.
“Could you please tell me some things that Jack Lim likes?”
She waits, pen poised, eyes on her paper, unaware of the spiraling despair in my brain.
She likes Jack?She’s here, asking me for advice on how to get to know Jack better?
Of course she likes the guy. He’s got that brooding werewolf energy that I could never re-create if I tried. I’m one hundred percent nerdy witch professor, and there’s no changing that.
Still, though I have no illusions it’ll raise my level of attractiveness in her eyes, I need to point out the obvious.
“I’m sorry, Ophelia. Jack’s in a relationship. With my sister Ame. And he’s … well, he’s kind of obsessed with her. Like bordering on unhealthy. But if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it because I want to keep my head on my shoulders.” The man has used decapitation before. “All this to say, you’re an amazing woman any person would be lucky to earn the affection of, but Jack’s not the best candidate.”
The firebird stares at me now instead of her paper, golden-brown eyes widening further as I ramble. My mouth loves to ramble around her.
“I’m not trying to seduce Jack,” she says when I finally shut up, her voice soft and melodic. “I want to get him a gift. Because he helped me. By taking part in slaying the sorcerer.”
“Oh. Oh. Yes. Right. Well, that makes sense.” I clear my throat. “And I’m an ass.”
Ophelia’s plush lips twitch in the hint of a smile. “You can redeem yourself by helping me.” She taps her journal.
“Of course. What does Jack like?” I lean back in my chair, twine my fingers together, and rest them on my stomach. My pondering pose, one student called it. “Well, as I mentioned, he likes Ame. A lot. Probably more than anything else.”
Ophelia raises her notes, turning them to face me.Ameis written in a lovely slanting script, underlined multiple times with stars around the name.
“Got it.”
I grin and think more on my brother-in-law. “He likes technology. He and his friend Niko watch soccer sometimes. He eats an ungodly amount of bacon every day. Hopefully, werewolves cannot develop high cholesterol.”
Ophelia bites her bottom lip, as if fighting off a smile as she flips a page. “And what does Ame like?”
“Jack,” I say, and my chest warms when Ophelia snorts. But it’s true. My sister isn’t as obvious about it, but I can tell she’s gone for the man. “She loves animals, especially her familiar, Lucky.” I almost addwhom you’ve met, but am proud of myself for stopping and remembering that Ophelia probably wants to avoid talk of her time trapped as a rabbit. “She also enjoys tech. Oh, and action movies.” I list off a few of her favorites. “Funny thing, they all star bald men. The other night, I overheard Jack asking if she wants him to shave off his hair.”
Ophelia gasps out a chuckle. “Oh no. Jack has such nice hair.” She waves toward my head. “Not as good as yours though.”
Silence falls between us as Ophelia’s sun-tanned cheeks flush a deep red, and I make a silent vow to never cut my hair again.
Do you want to touch it?I long to ask.Comb your fingers through it?
I’d curl at her feet for a chance to receive that kind of affection from her.
She drops her eyes and flips to a new page. “Do you know Niko?” She names Jack’s best friend and the kappa who rents one of the free rooms in the library.
I’ve said hi to the guy plenty of times when we lived in the same space, but he worked late hours at a restaurant in town, so we didn’t cross paths much.
“Not well. Best you ask Jack.”
Ophelia nods and makes a note. “Mor. What does she like?”
“Books, coffee …” I rattle off a few more things as Ophelia writes each down. “I can tell you about Anthony too. But he was still avoiding magic back then, so he didn’t do much to help.” I keep my voice light and joking.
My twin has changed his tune, working through his hang-ups after he fell in love with Zara Ironfeather—the town vet and a proud harpy.
Ophelia gives a slight headshake, then leans forward in her seat. In the small office, the change in position almost feels like she’s crowding me. Or it would if I didn’t have the overwhelming urge to pull her into my lap.
