Lifting Aspen out of his bassinet with a yawn, I sank to the ground, using the bed as a backrest before shifting my shirt. I adjusted my position until he latched lazily onto me, suckling happily and relieving the pressure that had me leaking onto the sheets. I snagged my phone from the nightstand, hoping to have a message from Hazel.
Nothing.
The approaching full moon made our sexual appetites more ravenous, and I was feeling the effects of it too, considering the steamy shower thoughts and dream I’d had about our neighbor. I was sure Hazel was having an amazing time, but I already missed her being around.
You coming up for air over there?
They better have a ribbed tongue or something.
Putting the phone on the ground, I stroked Aspen’s back as he fed, slowly shutting my eyes…
A tiny fist smacked my breast, jolting me back to alertness. I fumbled for my phone, then switched him to the other breast. Swiping the screen, I started typing out another message, probably sounding crazy already texting her again.
She would definitely be making fun of me later.
Atlas is coming in a few days. Think you’ll be back before then?
I don’t want the house to look like a shit show. You know he’ll see it as an opportunity to swoop in and play hero.
Once Aspen finished feeding, I got up with him, throwing on someGilmore Girlsreruns and dozing off in small increments on the couch while he hung out in his play center. After a handful of episodes, I loaded him into the stroller, figuring that walking the length of our neighborhood about five times would burn through some of my nervous energy.
Where was my obligatory text from Hazel letting me know she had found a sex wizard and that his magical staff had dickstracted her the last two days? Hopefully by this time tomorrow she would be sitting across from me at the table, regaling me with her sexcapades while we laughed over cups of coffee.
When my phone buzzed from the stroller basket, I halted, dipping down to dig under my diaper bag and extra blanket to grab it.
Thank Goddess.
Chuckling to myself about whatever ridiculously salacious message awaited me from Hazel, I tapped the darkened screen to see what she’d written.
The laughter quickly vanished, my gut clenching when I saw who the next was from.
Atlas
Anything I can bring for Aspen or the house this weekend?
I think we have everything handled.
Don’t be a dick, Oakley. He’s clearly trying to make the best of our situation.
Thanks for asking. Surprised you’re up in the middle of the night.
Atlas
Work’s been crazy lately. Think of it as co-parenting solidarity since you’re up with our son.
He was coming to visit Aspen and see how we were settling in since I’d made the decision to move us to Washington. My pulse quickened at the thought of him being here, seeing all the boxes strewn about. Seeing how much I didn’t,in fact,have it handled. But Hazel would be home by then. She’d be able to use her magic and would be the perfect buffer so I didn’t do anything stupid like run back into the arms of my ex.
I put the phone down before I continued to overthink my responses. Turning toward our house, I strolled along the sidewalk while the lanterns bobbed above us, casting their golden light onto the sidewalks. The street was completely silent, most of the houses shrouded in darkness. Guess no one else was sleep deprived and anxious enough to be out at four in the morning.
Only one house seemed awake against its sleeping brethren—the first along Blessed Crescent, a row of expensive luxury homes that looped around a paved, half-moon shaped street nestled behind the Coven Community Center. Nearly all the lights were on in the house, a silhouette flitting between the ones on the lower level. The lonecreakof the home’s front door halted me at the bottom of my driveway.
My night owl neighbor scurried to the side of her house, snipping herbs from the planters resting there. During the day, they would fly off to the best spot for sun or shade, depending on what each needed, returning home at sundown. The more finnicky plants resided within the community center’s attached greenhouse, only summoned to their owners when needed.
Aspen screeched from the stroller and her head snapped in our direction. Our eyes locked momentarily, and she stilled, clearly startled to see someone outside at this hour, her hand clutched around her clippings. I’d probably be freaked out too if I saw a darkened shadow staring at me. She readjusted her spectacles, as if wanting to get a better look at us, and I waved to break up the awkwardness, getting a quick nod in acknowledgment before the witch pivoted and hustled to her door. Ascending the stairs leading to her porch, glittering outlines of wards contoured her shape as she passed through them.
Interesting.
It was unusual to see so many handmade wards on a house. Most of the homes around here boasted top-of-the-line systems. Apparently one of the witches who lived on Blessed Crescent owned a home security and maintenance tech company.
