“Seven decades, more like,” I muttered under my breath.
“—and I’ll prove it to you with a smooth and successful journey—”
“To the local scrap yard?” I finished, unable to stop the chuckle sneaking into my voice.
Caitlyn mock-glared at me, but my mate couldn’t keep up the pretense for long. A split second later, she leaned down, her arms slipping around my neck as she pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.
My hands moved automatically, trailing down her ribs—somewhat hindered by the oversized denim overalls she was wearing—my body screaming to skip the snacks and the TV marathon and get straight to the—
A sharptinglecut off my thoughts.
Caitlyn spun around, staring in confusion at the coffee table, where a set of car keys now sat. “Um... thank you, Creep?” she said, her voice uncertain, as if she’d sooner believe a flying pig had dropped her keys than her newly benevolent house.
“Final offer,” I said lightly, “for me to be on snack-retrieval duty.”
Caitlyn shook her head. “Ms. Monroe and I have it covered. And I need to stop by the local magic shop to pick something up.” She grinned. “Besides, you’re on nest-making duty.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her.
She held up her fingers, ticking them off as she listed, “Blankets, pillows, bowls for snacks, soft lighting, laptop...”
I snapped a quick salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
With one last kiss to my forehead, my mate bounced gleefully out of the room and toward her death trap of a car.
***
As it turned out, unlike erecting a tent, I was a natural at nesting.
I had briefly considered constructing my masterpiece of soft blankets and plump cushions on the bed but ultimately settled on the living room couch. As much as I appreciated quick access to somewhere we could spread out for all our horizontal activities should the evening lead us there, I’d also witnessed the snack-induced chaos that was Ms. Monroe's dashboard and footwells. Spending the night picking popcorn out of my ass felt like a guaranteed mood killer.
Creep had already worked her unusually benevolent magic, lighting every candle I had found. After one final plump of the pillows, I settled into the nest, smiling to myself as I imagined Caitlyn’s reaction when she walked in.
A disembodied, trumpet-likeduh-duh-duh-duhfilled the room, announcing the arrival of my delivery from Witchmart. A sharpcrack, accompanied by a fizz-like sparkle of light just above the coffee table, caught my attention. A second later, a tiny box with a card resting atop it appeared just where the sparkling light was sputtering out.
I glanced at theThank you for your purchase!card, which doubled as the warranty card (Five years of snoreless sleep and spelless study sessions guaranteed!) and a discounted subscription to one of their partners (Fireball wine—50% off your first 3 months, 1 year minimum subscription), before scrunching it into a ball and shoving it into my pocket to throw into the trash later, promising myself that I woulddefinitelyremember to take it out of my sweatpants before they went through the wash.
The box of Hushbuds+ was, thankfully, small enough to also slide into my pockets. I wouldn't be using them for a few days anyway.
Still in love with someone elsewas probably enough for my mate to deal with tonight without addingAnd you snoreto the conversation.
My fingers traced absent-minded circles over the fleece velvet throw as I took in the room. Grime-free and dappled in candlelight, it was... beautiful. I’d never really thought about what my forever home might look like—and a creepy, semi-haunted manor certainly hadn’t featured—but sitting here now, I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
I loved my apartment. I was going to miss it. But it was Ambrose who’d made it a home.
I wondered how he’d take the news that I’d stumbled across my mate. His current job was due to wrap up in another couple of weeks. Would it be kinder to slip back to the apartment before he returned? Pack up my things quietly and just leave him a note? Or casually pop by, offer my best nonchalant“It was fun while it lasted, dude—hope it’s your turn next”and make a clean, awkward exit?
He’d probably prefer that to a long, painful sit-down where we picked apart everything that had happened. After all, for him, that night had been one of shame and regret. For me, it had been something else entirely.
A night of realizing I’d spent years beside a soul I could have fallen in love with.Hadfallen in love with.
Snap.
He squeezed your hand just as hard during the Samhain Summoning,a voice in my head reminded me.
And just like that, the memory dragged his soothing, familiar, bergamot scent back with it.
Snap. Snap.
