Phase two of my plan takes the rest of the weekend. By the time Monday comes around, the small box is burning a hole in my pocket. Making the earrings didn’t actually take that long once I formed the gemstones with my magic. Had to start over a couple times to get the right shade of red though. Not too bright like rubies, not too dark like garnets. I even tried labradorite—but none of them came close to the deep crimson of cuprite. Fitting for the world’s prettiest Bloodwitch.
When I see her in my Chemistry class, my breath nearly catches in my throat. Her eyes—they’re red. Well, before, her eyes were brown with a red tint. Now they’re red with a subtle deep brown. I try to temper my electric excitement at seeing her, smelling her, feeling the heat radiating from her body when I sit next to her.
“You had me worried there, baby girl. I was starting to think you were trying to avoid me.”
She gives me a side glance, opening her laptop and whispering as class starts. “I wasn’t avoiding you, Killian.”
“See, that’s what I told?—”
“I was avoidingallof you.” She glares at me, and I put my hands up.
“Okay you know what, that’s fair—Luther tried to kill you, you tried to kill him. Both of you lived. Let’s let bygones be bygones, what do you say?” I beam at her.
“Repeat that first part again?”
“Let bygones be bygones?”
“Before that.”
“Both of you lived?”
“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters under her breath.
“You’d be bored without my sparkle. Speaking of—I have something for you.” I reach my hand into my pocket, fidgeting with the box. It’s weird. I don’t usually fidget.
“Let me guess, it’s a letter of apology from Luther?”
“Good guess, but no.”
“A blank check for my pain and suffering?”
“Better.”
She stares at me. “What could possibly be better than free money?”
“An invitation,” I say, setting the red velvet box on the counter. She stares at me, then the box, then me again.
“To… what?”
“The Governor’s Gala. I’d like you to go with me. As my date.”
Her mouth opens and closes, speechless.
“Why?”
“If you haven’t caught on by now that I’m into you?—”
“You—but after—you left,” she hisses. “Then you pretended like it never happened.”
“I had to pack before we left for break.” And I was panicking, but she doesn’t need to know that. Panicking isn’t sexy. “And you could have texted me too—I figured sinceyoudidn’t say anything, you didn’t want to rehash it.”
After a moment, she sighs and says softly, “Fine. I get it.”
I push the box closer to her. “Come with me to the Gala.”
“I’m not going with you, Killian.” She shakes her head, and then it’s my turn gape like an idiot.
“Why not?”
