His tone slipped back into amusement. “I thought you witches were all obsessed with tea?”
“I like to go against the grain.”
Blaise’s smile widened, revealing a flash of perfectly white teeth. “Then I would love a cup of hot cocoa.”
“Fair warning,” I said, crossing to the fridge and pulling out the milk. I threw him a look over my shoulder, my voice dipping low, as I said, “My hot cocoa has been known toruinall others.”
Where didthatcome from? I didn’t think I’d flirted a single time in my life, and yet my succubus side had apparently decided now was the time to rear her head and seize the wheel without warning. And over cocoa?Like, seriously, Cat, if you’re going to attempt to flirt, do it over something that’s at least a little bit sexy.
Blaise leaned back against the counter, something heady flickering in his eyes. His voice was a low rumble as he said, “I don’t mind being ruined.”
His eyes widened, as if he’d surprised himself. A deeper flush spread across his cheeks, and he straightened, dragging a hand through his hair like he was reining himself in.
I busied myself, grabbing the pan and cocoa, determined not to dwell on what that gesture might have meant. Naturally, my mind went there anyway.
Did henotwant to flirt with me?
Was it nerves? Maybe I wasn’t what he expected? I mean, I was in my scruffiest outfit and had just traveled for hours. And an old Cheeto had fallen out of my hair as I’d bent over to get the milk out of the fridge, but he seemed to like me enough to flirt in the first place.
Maybe it was something else. Something to do with the scar. Or—
“I’m just... working through something in my personal life at the moment.”
A sudden shiver ran up my spine, sending my stomach lurching. Was the thing he was working through asomeonerather than asomething? Had I left it too long to summon him? Had he found someone else in that time?
Had he given up on waiting for me and moved on with his life?
“Caitlyn?” he said, cutting neatly through my spiraling thoughts. “You’re not actually stirring the cocoa.”
“Hm?” My gaze bounced from the rusty stain on the wall I’d been staring at, to Blaise, and then down to the wooden spoon—which Iwasstirring, just... about three inches above the pan.
“Sorry,” I said, lowering the spoon and clicking my fingers, trusting magic to do a better job at stirring than a witch teetering on the edge of a mild panic attack. “My mind wandered.”
Blaise chuckled, the sound so warm and easy it made something swell in my chest.
If he did have someone else, would I be able to let him go back to them?
Physically, yes. Of course. But would that homey chuckle haunt my dreams from now on? Would it always be Blaise’s face that slipped uninvited into my thoughts?
Or was I catastrophizing? The poor demon had just said he was dealing with something personal. Maybe I was reading far too much into it.
Still... would it be rude to ask?
I had a tendency to word vomit when I wasn’t prepared, though, so perhaps giving myself a moment—or two—was wiser than blurting it out where I stood.
“Marshmallows?” I asked, already heading for the pantry.
“Yes, please.”
I held the jar up to my face as I returned, inspecting it closely. Nothing looked suspicious. Still, the moment I caught Creep’s glassy stare from behind the kitchen door, I decided a second check wouldn’t hurt.
Tentatively, I held the jar over the sink and unlatched the clasp.
I somehow managed to internalize my scream as hundreds of tiny spiders exploded free.
It had taken me no less than three weeks to stop screaming every time I discovered another strange place Creep liked to hide her clusters of ready-to-burst spider egg sacks, and I absolutely refused to give her the satisfaction of shrieking in front of Blaise.
Instead, I cast a quick hover charm on the spider-infested jar before they could crawl up my arms, while biting back a curse.
