It’s decadent. Rich, torturous, the thump of my heart so intense it beats into the ground. His mouth on mine has an explosive effect, my senses casting wide for a moment—picking up the wings of a bee settling onto a flower, each rustling blade of grass in a quarter mile radius—before narrowing tightly on every exposed inch of Alex’s skin, to the texture of his clothes and the way his irises contract when they’re above me. One corner of his mouth tugs as he watches thoughts rolling behind my eyes, but for once there isn’t any playfulness in the expression, only a quiet adoration he doesn’t try to hide. Emotion combusts in me without warning—my hand slides around the back of his neck to hold him to me, enjoying the slight weight of him that he allows to press down, a breeze stirring his scent through my hair. I think it’s possible that we’ve tumbled off the earth into heaven, to a distant somewhere in which I don’t have fears or insecurities; somewhere everything about this can be easy, and I can simply trust, let go. Before I get the chance to explore our heaven more thoroughly, however, he breaks away, fiddling with a lump in my pocket. “What’s this?”
“My charm bag.”
He drops it into his hand and stretches out beside me. “This doesn’t look like the ones you sell.”
“The ones I sell are more generic, one-size-fits-all. Tumbled red jasper for protection, gingerroot for prosperity, crushed rose geranium for calm, a quarter stick of cinnamon for luck. That sort of thing.”
Alex empties the contents of my charm bag. “What are these?” He rolls a handful of round black seeds.
“Oh. Uh. Dicentra King of Hearts.”
A slow grin spreads. “King of Hearts, hm?”
“I know what you’re thinking, and no way. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Sure, sure.”
I sneak another glance at him, which is a mistake. He’sglowing. He notices another item in the bag. “Is this...?”
I cover my face. “No.”
“Itis!” An alexandrite gemstone flashes with sunlight as he throws it up in the air, catching it in his other fist. “I want a charm bag, too. Full of nothing but King of Hearts and alexandrite, so that I can think about myself all day long.”
“Youwould.”
Alex pauses, deep in thought. He plays with my hair and I admire his profile, every perfect feature. Birds are twittering, sunbeams dreamlike gold-dust swirls. I would like to slip into this moment and keep the door locked forever. “I like how driven you are in your career,” he says. “Like me. But you’re still family oriented, too. Tight-knit with your sisters. I’ve always wished I had a little more family around.” He meets my gaze. I can tell this is a topic he’s been thinking about a great deal. He’s foraging for information in light, sensitive steps.
“Me, too. I have my sisters and niece, of course, but I’ve always wanted a house of my own that’s full to bursting with family.Happyfamily.”
My sisters and I don’t enjoy a close relationship with our parents. Our dad is go-with-the-flow, happy so long as no one bothers him with wanting anything, a hippie with long Willie Nelson hair who likes weed and Harley-Davidson motorcycles. A total mismatch with our high strung, no-nonsense mom. It was opposites attract for them, and sometimes that dynamic works, sometimes it doesn’t. At first, Mom found Dad’s side of the family fun and refreshing, vastly different from her own. She thought it was interesting to have a practicing witch for a mother-in-law. For a while, Mom kind of wished she were the witchy type, too, and tried to fit herself into that mold, emulating Grandma Dottie until she decided one day that she was tired of Dad, tired of Grandma, tired of anything related to magic, which never worked for her anyway. The truth is that my parents are good, nice people, on their own, individually, but they were not good, nice people together, and neither of them are the nurturing type. I’ve known from a young age that I want to be the exact opposite as a parent. I’m going to call my kids every week, no matter how old they get, just to tell them I love them.
“Exactly,”he says with a nod, letting out a long, slow breath. I think he’d been holding it while awaiting my response. “Lots of noise. Laughter.”
“Everywhere you look, somebody to hug. And pets.”
“Oh, definitely. You like dogs?”
“I love all animals.” I tear the leaves from my last strawberry and pocket them. “I’ll start your charm bag with these.”
“They have any meaning?”
“Things that come in threes are lucky.” I lay a palm to hisjaw, feeling the muscle beneath loosen. “Strawberry leaves meana romantic rendezvous.”
His gaze flickers from my eyes to my lips, then away into the sky. “A rendezvous,” he repeats quietly, turning the definition of that word over in his mind.A meeting, a date. Which technically is what we’re engaging in right now—but the word also evokes brevity. Having fun for a while, before it ends.
I have the sinking worry that I might be self-sabotaging, letting my fears dictate the future. But I don’t know how to stop. All I know is that whenever I catch myself basking in how good this life is beginning to feel, a cold voice slips between my ears, hissingIt’ll all be snatched away.Alex and Miles are the family, and I am the outsider, easy to dispose of after a while. After it ends.
Chapter Thirty-Two
WHITE PHLOX:
Tell me something about yourself.
We take a different trail on the way back, emerging on Bear Run, the road that cuts behind the library and the dentist office. Then we turn right, single file on the sidewalk. I used to ride my bike all over this town with Zelda—not so much Luna, thanks to the age gap—and a ride isn’t complete without a race through the Moonville tunnel. This tunnel is our most iconic feature: fifty yards long, burrowing straight through a high hill. It’s made of brick, the wordMOONVILLEcut into the front, grassy slopes on either side blanketed with more of our signature love-in-a-mist. Alex hunts for the best-looking flower and picks it, then tucks it into my hair.
It’s growing colder, especially in this haunted tunnel, and I shiver. Alex unzips his jacket without a second thought, folding it around my shoulders.
“You sure?” I ask, even as I zip it all the way to my chin.
