“Lucky you.” He pulls a wand from inside his waistband and points at the window. Blue magic envelops it, and it slides open, silent as can be. “I felt like our magic was going to shred me from the inside out.”
He hoists himself up, crawling in with more grace than I could manage.
“You’re pretty good at that,” I say.
“I did my fair share of sneaking out when I was a teen.”
“Who knew you were such a rebel?”
He drops into the room and closes the window. Then he casts another spell. This one washes over everything—the window, the walls, the door.
“There,” he says in a regular, conversational tone, stretching his shoulders like he hurt them crawling in.
“Shhh!” I warn, cupping my hand over his mouth and looking fearfully at the door. “You’re worried my parents don’t like you now; imagine what will happen if they find out you snuck into my room.”
He takes my hand and kisses the inside of my palm. “This is a strange conversation for two people our age to have.”
“Rowan!” I whisper, desperately trying to shush him. Has he no notion of self-preservation?
“I muffled the room,” Rowan laughs. “Just like Ansel did before he dispelled his magic. I used the spell all the time when Ryder and I would stay up late at Marshall’s place playing video games.”
“That’s a handy trick,” I laugh, relaxing.
“It is.”
“How long does it last?”
“A few hours.”
Before I can respond, he pulls me into his arms, wrapping himself around me as though he can’t get close enough.
“Better,” he groans.
And it is. So much better.
“I felt like I was sick while you were gone,” I admit, clinging to him as our magic finally chills. “It was bearable for the first part of the day, but by evening, it was awful.”
“I’m sorry.” He nestles his nose against the crook of my neck and breathes in deeply. “Albany is apparently too far.”
“What are we going to do when you go to school?”
“I don’t know.”
He pulls back just enough to twine his fingers into the hair at the base of my scalp, and then he kisses me.
Kisses me.
There’s no warning, no little soft, nippy pecks leading up to it. Zero to sixty in two-point-five seconds.
I sure hope Rowan’s muffling charm works, because I make a very embarrassing, very needy mewling noise and drape my arms over his shoulders.
“Forgive me,” he says, his lips hot against mine. “I know we shouldn’t. Especially not here. I just…”
I bring my hand to the back of his neck, massaging his tight muscles. “You just what?”
His eyes find mine. With a dark catch in his voice, he says, “I need you.”
The confession is a jolt to my magic and my heart.
