Stone crosses to a closet and opens it, taking a shirt off a hanger. My jaw opens slightly at how muscled he is. His arms have ridges and hills that flex with every movement.
I should not be staring at him, but I can’t help it.
He keeps talking, and I force myself to look away from his muscles and concentrate on his face as he puts on the shirt. A thought occurs to me: Is this how guys feel about boobs? Are they as entranced by them as I am with man muscles?
“One call,” he explains. “That’s all it’ll take to clear up this mess. You can do that, or I can tell the mayor’s office about his newest magical land coordinator.”
This. Is. Humiliating. There’s no way one bite of the Danish worked, and of course I’ve destroyed the coffee, and fat chance Stone will take food or drink from me again.
I’ve lost.
I’ll lose my job, my family will know my secret, and instead of thinking I’m awesome like Brittany, they’ll shun me for being weird and different—even more different than I already am.
Stone stares at me, no doubt wondering why I’m not answering. If he only knew that I’m contemplating all my life’s horrible choices and how each failure led me to this one moment, the moment where I break in half.
I mop up the last puddle of coffee from his desk and murmur, “I was trying to make things better, but I’ve only made them worse.”
What do I do now? Let the magic be destroyed, or allow him to reveal my secret?
There’s really no choice, is there? My decision is made.
“Wait,” he says, but his voice is garbled.
I glance up as Stone reels back. He claws at his neck, his face turning bright red. Worry sifts through me.
Is the potion working? What is it doing?
Is it . . . hurting him?
His eyes meet mine, and they’re wide with fear. Stone opens his mouth. Reaches toward me—
His knees buckle.
“Stone!”
I lunge forward as he crumples, face-first, onto the floor.
I don’t think he’s breathing.
A crack echoes through me as if my own bones are breaking. My lungs seize. A cold, slithering wave of nausea coils in my gut.
Oh my God.
I just killed Stone Maddox.
Chapter 11
Coco
I tuck my hands underneath Stone and try to flip him over. My God, he must weigh two hundred pounds. It takes all my strength to get him on his back.
I collapse against him and press an ear to his chest. Nothing. Oh, God. He’s really dead. I’ve actually killed him.
The taste of metal fills my mouth, bile claws up the back of my throat, and all I can think to do is bargain with God.Please, God, if he lives I will never touch magic again. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be nicer to people. Smell more roses. Anything, if Stone Maddox just lives.
I never should have opened that spell book. I should have listened to Cristina.
My gaze falls to Stone’s collar, where a triangle of white peeks out from underneath his button-down.
