The Blossoms dideverythingtogether. They may have looked like the perfect suburban supernatural family but the sour scent of curdled milk that clogged my nose every time they were around told me otherwise.
“Ready to go?” Ace Irving called out to me as he came in for a high five. He and his wife, Heather, who was due with their sixth moon-blessed child, had moved to the neighborhood a few months ago after the previous owners left town.
“Always,” I beamed, glad when he took a spot near the front, his energy waking me up with a hit of citrus. He was the hardest worker in class, and I could always count on him to help encourage the rest of the group.
“Hiya, Lynx,” a sultry voice purred from behind me, self-confidence lapping over every syllable.
Please just go talk to anyone else.
“Hey, Aurora,” I said nonchalantly, bringing the neon-yellow elixir to my lips in an attempt to avoid having to talk to her or witness the way she ogled me. Aurora Wells lived in the largest house on Blessed Crescent. It was easily over three times the size of mine.
Her husband, Fitzgerald, was Artemis’s District Attorney, but with the ambition of a true politician. Aurora stayed home with their two teens, Atticus and Chrysanthemum, and ran the Nyx High School PTA and Athletic Boosters Club. Between her and Fitz, they were the epitome of a power couple in the supernatural community, always throwing elaborate neighborhood parties and hosting guests at their mansion.
She was also Starry Night Lane’s coveness, the coven’s matriarch—one of four within Celestial Haven. Which meant as much as I despised her attention, I had to play nice.
Snapping the shaker cup shut, I pointed to the rest of herfriendsthat were already huddled together and chatting. “Why don’t you go catch up? I’m just getting the last few things set up before class.”
I bent down to reach into the duffel, not missing the leering tilt of her gaze following my ass. She wasn’t even a little bit subtle about it, making my skin crawl. When she joined her friends, probably chatting about plans for the next neighborhood moonluck, I sighed with relief.
Slowly, the other residents of Starry Night Lane, where the ordinary witches like myself lived, trickled in. A few of their spouses dropped them off with a kiss before snagging coffee down at Luna’s. Ivy Hendrix and Jade Fisher rolled their strollers to the back of the pavilion so they could stay by their babies while they worked out.
Forest Delta, who lived next door, jogged over in a pair of shorts and no shirt, as if it wasn’t forty degrees and breezy at seven in the morning. He hopped around, never stopping his movement while he waited for class to start, probably because he was freezing—unless he couldn’t feel the cold.
I was still trying to pinpoint his gift, among a handful of others’ on the street.
The last few stragglers arrived and I told everyone we’d give it a few more minutes, craning my neck to see if any movement came from number 13. Maybe she was already out on a stroll? But when no foot traffic moved up or down Starry Night Lane, I called class to begin, trying not to let the disappointment set in that Oakley hadn’t taken me up on my invitation to join.
“Keep those shoulders down, chests lifted,” I directed while we warmed up with squats, feeling the release of tension when about half the group took the correction. For the few who didn’t, I moved in front of them, demonstrating before rolling my shoulders back, a reminder to loosen them up and keep them down. “Make sure it’s your legs that are doing the work. Your back will thank me tomorrow. Give me five more and then drop low and hold that deep position.”
I made my way to the front of the group and bent low. “You should still be able to see those big toes out of the corner of your eyes. Now pulse.” A handful of audible groans rang out, the best applause I could ask for.Hate me today, love me tomorrow.I always enjoyed the high I got pushing my clients and sensing those emotions alongside them as they overcame their struggles during the workout.
That’s when I sawherwalking swiftly down the sidewalk. She was dressed in leggings and a wine-colored zip-up jacket that hugged every muscle and curve of her body. Her auburn hair was tucked up in a bun. Hands gripped tightly around the handlebar of her stroller, dark-blue exhaustion swirled heavily around her mixed in with stress that clung to her with its gray static.
What was Oakley so worried about?
“How much longer?” Aurora asked, much too perkily, drawing back my attention.
I had no clue how long they’d been pulsing.
Whoops.
“Fifty more. Why don’t you count us back?” I said to her, waving Oakley over. She stopped for a moment, startled and a bit confused, but then wheeled Aspen up the community center’s walkway. “We just got started. Why don’t you join us?”
“Umm. I wasn’t planning on it,” she said in a hurried voice, averting eye contact. Laced between the other emotions she was giving off, lust filtered through the air like a blissful cloud of powdered sugar. I took a deep inhale, smirking as it wafted in my direction.
“And?” I arched a brow.
Flirting? Really, Lynx?
Get it together.
Off limits.
Her wide chestnut eyes glanced down to Aspen, knuckles pale around the bar. I pointed over to the other strollers, their owners grabbing waters out of them and taking a sip, checking on their littles. “You won’t be the only one. Why don’t you park over there and you can tend to the witchling as you need?”
She picked up her phone and swiped at it a few times, lips frowning slightly. The gray static shifted into charcoal fumes. Disappointment. “You sure?”
“Yes!” I blurted, like a clumsy idiot.
