“He looked me dead in the fucking eyes and said the words, ‘not even King Arthur could pull me out of you.’”
“No!” I squeal, my hand shooting up to my mouth.
“Not even King Arthur himself…” Bo says, his face turning red as he struggles to catch his breath.
We both burst into fits of laughter so overwhelming that I truly can’t catch my breath, clutching my stomach and sputtering for relief. The imagery of Bo roleplaying as a witch to be seduced is funny enough, butthatline is possibly my new favourite quote. I’ve yet to get a tattoo, but I might consider it. In fact, I might request it as my epitaph. After all, it’llkillme not to tell Sarah.
I’ll resist.
“Oh my god,” I say, my voice weak as I wipe away tears.
“I didn’t know what to do!” Bo says, waving his hand out to his side as he lies back down. “I rolled for it, and the witchwasseduced. So I guess it worked?”
“Caleb gave it his all. I’ll give him that.” I try to take a deep inhale, but the laugh roils back up, taking my breath from me yet again.
“I thought Adamir was going to pass out. Poor thing.”
“I really like your friends,” I say on another long breath, steadying myself. “They seem great. An odd assortment, which I love.”
“Even Walter?” Bo asks. When he sits up to see me, he does a slight double take. His eyes hold on my face with a sincere appreciation that catches me off guard and has me swallowing air. I put two palms on my cheeks, feeling their warmth.Ah,that’s what he’s noticed. I’m blushing.
“Especially Walter,” I answer before clearing my throat. “Or should I call himHamish?”
“You do that sometimes,” Bo says, touching his cheek with a quick double-tap of his finger.
“Blush?” I look away, because often it gets worse when speaking about it. Or when beautiful men point it out. Both things. “Yeah… most people do,” I say, my voice softened.
“Maybe when they’re embarrassed. But you blush a lot… like when you’re happy too.”
“It’s annoying,” I say, pulling my hair off my neck to cool down.
“I like it,” Bo says simply. I turn my face back toward him. “It feels like checking a box. It’s the only way to know for sure my joke landed, or well, you know…” He swallows, his eyes fluttering closed with a rapid series of blinks.
“Know what?” I ask, tilting my head.
Bo scratches a hand through his hair, then bends forward as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks off to the side, his face disgruntled, as if he can’t believe the words about to come out of his mouth. “You, uh, you blushed on Halloween.”
I did alotof things on Halloween. My eyes narrow, my smile creeping up sideways.
“When you…came,” he adds, his jaw tight and eyesdefinitelyon my neck, where there’s no doubt a lingering pink hue.
Oh.
“Sorry.” His eyebrows pinch together, creating a deep line down the centre of his forehead. “I don’t know why I said that.”
I’d tell him not to worry about it, as flippantly as I can, but my throat is quite possibly swelling up. All I can feel is the pounding of my pulse in my neck.
“We should go to bed,” Bo says, his eyes raking over me while he leans farther away from me, as if he’s resisting. Telling himselfno.
I quirk an eyebrow, wondering if he knows he, perhaps subconsciously, propositioned me.
“Oh, no—nottogether. Sorry, not—” He drops his face into his hands, then runs them both through his hair, making it stick up funny. “Sorry,” he laughs out. “See? This is why you had to take the lead.”
Was it because of his awkwardness? I’d started to tell myself it was because he wasn’t all that interested. Still, either way, it’snota good idea. I swallow the lump in my throat. “We, uh, haven’t really talked aboutthat.”
Bo stares blankly back at me, his bottom lip pouted ever so slightly.
Shit, I’m really going to have to say this all out loud. Deep breath. In and out.
