Saxon is gorgeous, confident, interested and—if I’m reading this situation with his friend right—kind. But for whatever reason, everything that he is isn’t sparking anything major in me.
“I’d never be just a man, Leni, but yes, in the eyes of my pack, if I had won, I’d be taken.” The cocky smile on his handsome face doesn’t distract me from the impression that he likes this exchange.
I think he’s reading my questions as a sign of jealousy or deeper interest, but we’re not there yet. He’s still firmly inhit it and quit itterritory, not inI like you, so stop talking to other girlsland. I’m just trying to understand the dynamics that were in play that day at the stump and ensure I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes or inviting any more drama into my life than I’m already dealing with. I’m not over the moon for him or feeling some profound connection, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page with that before this goes anywhere else.
“So, if you had won, you’d be there playing house, but you didn’t, and now you’re here,” I recap, taking a sip of my coffee and watching him from under my lashes.
“Yes, I suspect a sneaky witch ensorcelled me, and I’ve had no choice but to pursue her in hopes of relief,” he teases, his voice a little lower, a hint of growl and delicious innuendo snaking through his words.
My inner fiend rises with a clearthat’ll do, and I do nothing to stop a cheeky smile from playing at my lips. “Ensorcelled, you say?” I exclaim with faux concern. “How ever do you know?”
I’m not sure why my flirting has taken on aSteel Magnolias-esque quality, but I do declare, it’s working for me.
Saxon laughs and I let the rich sound resonate through me. I recall what it was like to kiss him, to nip at his lips and feel him respond to me. The memories work to heat my blood, but out of nowhere, my thoughts shift to a different set of lips on mine, on the feel of different hands as they cupped my face and kissed me until I felt like I was home. My body comes alive at the new reel playing in my mind, and the contrast in my physical response is jarring.
What is wrong with me?
I shove the memory of kissing Rogan away, hard, but the damage is done. Saxon purposefully breathes me in, and I see the second he picks up on my hesitation, on the frustration and confusion tainting my interest and arousal. His brow furrows, and the heat banked in his eyes cools ever so slightly.
“What just happened?” he asks me gently.
I close my eyes for a moment and sigh, because as much as I want to answer nothing, we both know that’s bullshit.
“Witch emergency,” I tell him lamely, and after a moment, I see his eyes light up with understanding.
“Hmmmm, I suspected there might be something there. He was eyeing me pretty hard when I dropped your package off,” Saxon divulges, and I can imagine the sour lemons that would have been written all over Rogan’s face at seeing Saxon again so soon. “So were the two of you a thing? Are you still?”
“No,” I answer simply, hating the twinge the truth of that sends through me. “But it’s...complicated,” I add, knowing it’s accurate but not helpful.
I laugh at the absurdity of it all. A girl never wants to hearit’s not what you think, and I’m sure men could live without hearingit’s complicatedout of the mouth of someone they’re interested in. Saxon smiles and sits back in his chair. He runs a hand through his long auburn waves and considers me.
“Tell me about why it’s complicated,” he asks out of nowhere, and a rush of heat climbs up my neck as I stare at him, wide-eyed and floored.
“No!” I exclaim quickly, shaking my head and finishing the last of my witch’s brew. I debate for a moment going to get a refill just so I can escape the weirdness of this moment. But I have a feeling even if I made a break for the door, he’d come after me, damn persistent lycan.
“I am not talking to a guy I want to sleep with about another guy I wish I didn’t want to sleep with. Nope. I draw the line at beingthat girl,” I blurt and then immediately wish I hadn’t.
I look over at my guards, who are all scanning the place, looking vigilant but bored. Dammit. Why didn’t I think to come up with aget me out of heresignal until now?
Note to self: immediately come up with a signal as soon as I get home.
“I mean, I’m on board with the guy you want to sleep with part of that statement in case you had any doubts,” Saxon teases, and I chuckle and wish it were that easy.
“I normally would be too,” I confess. “And I’m trying, trust me…”
“I sense abutcoming,” he supplies with a warm smile, and I instantly want to smack some sense into myself.
Seriously. What. Is. Wrong. With. Me?
I could be in the bathroom right now with this dude, riding what I’m sure is a sizable dick, while judging the cleanliness of the facilities and chasing that O. But no, instead, I have the female version of a limp dick because Rogan Kendrick has fucked with my head. Limp clit? Is that a thing? Because it feels like a thing, and I have to say I amnota fan.
I scrub my face with both of my palms, beyond fed up with my own crap. I’m going to get that betraying bastard out of my head if it’s the last thing I do. But tonight is not the night.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Saxon, my gaze contrite. “Honestly, I’m saving you a lot of trouble here, because my life right now is a mess.” I throw my hands up in exasperation, wishing that what I’m saying weren’t true, but it is. “It was a mess before the missing witches, and now it’s so beyond fucked that it’s unrecognizable. You should run. Like, right now. You should bolt and never look back before my atom bomb of a life annihilates you,” I warn with a hollow laugh, completely serious. “Full disclosure, if you don’t run for the hills, I’m going to completely judge you. You should care more about yourself than getting entangled in my nightmare,” I tell him, and he laughs.
Saxon takes me in, his eyes alight with amusement and curiosity, his smile sexy and still not doing a damn thing for me.
Ugh.
