She huffs, and I glance at her. It's almost painful to see her with her hair in waves, pulled back from her painted face. She's both gorgeous and unfamiliar, which doesn't make sense. We don't know each other. We're not friends, lovers, or anything other than random beings who were thrown together.
“Oh, don't be mad at him. Kitty Cat probably didn't mean it, did you?” She buries her nose into his fur and the cat has the audacity to purr. Little fucker.
“Sure he didn't. Why the summons? I'm no good with hair.”
She gives me a look, then sets the cat down. “I didn't summon you. It was just a slip of the tongue.”
I could slip my tongue into?—
I stop the thought before it can fully form. Between her innuendos and that dress, I'm sliding down a slippery slope. I clear my throat and glance away to survey her bedroom. It's less cluttered than the rest of her house. Whereas plants take up most of the shelves and windowsills in her living roomand kitchen, not to mention her summoning room, there's no greenery in here.
Every surface is covered in notebooks and paperbacks. Sketches of flowers plaster the colorful walls, and a string of small lights hangs from the ceiling. There's even a fireplace set across from her four-poster bed. The grate's cold and I channel the emptiness before I face her once more.
“What was the slip?” I growl, keeping my gaze on her eyes.
“Oh, um, well…” She blushes and lets out a nervous laugh. “I mixed up Omen with…” She mumbles something I can't make out, and I raise an eyebrow. She clears her throat. “Brandon.”
“Who the fuck is Brandon?” I blurt the question out before I can think better of it.
She laces her fingers together in front of her stomach. “Just someone I met at the coffee shop in town. He, uh, asked me out for coffee this afternoon. Actually, can you zip me up? I've been trying to reach it for the past ten minutes. Then my neighbor called and I got distracted.”
The last thing I want to do is help her get dressed up for a date. Not to mention I'll be incredibly close to her while I do it. I should walk away or disappear back to Hell. I could finally pass the fuck out. Once I get some sleep, I'll be able to purge her from my mind. She'll no longer haunt my dreams. She probably won't even summon me again.
Instead, I twirl my finger and a small smile flits across her lips. She turns slowly and I swallow hard at the strip of exposed skin. The fucking zipper almost reaches her ass. I should use my shadows, let them brush against her instead of my fingers. Then I’d only get an echo of sensation rather than my flesh on hers. With how tired I am, I doubt I'll be able to direct them. They’d go rogue and I’d have to deal with the consequences. Plus, the sensations will be so heightened right now, I'll have a hard time not throwing her on the bed—date be damned.
Gently, I grip the small piece of metal and tug it up. My knuckle skims across her flesh and goosebumps scatter in its wake. Her shoulders inch up, making it hard to pull the zipper all the way up. There's a small loop at the top and I brush aside a few stray hairs from her neck to hook the seams together. She glances back at me, swallowing hard while she forces a smile.
“Thank you,” she breathes.
I nod, not trusting my voice. This is bad. Very fucking bad.
She steps away and I shudder. By the time she slips on her shoes, which are way too high, I've pulled my emotionless mask back on. I wouldn't fool Dimitri, but Clara doesn't seem to catch it. The cat winds its way around my legs, meowing incessantly, and I scowl at him.
She bends, giving me an ample view of her cleavage once more. My mouth waters and I squeeze my eyes shut. A stabbing pain lances through my head and I wince. My heartbeat hammers in my chest, drums in my ears, and threatens to suffocate me.
“Mr. Handsome, you're such a good little kitty.” Clara's voice cuts through my panic and my breathing returns to normal. She doesn't even seem to have noticed I was on the brink of a magical meltdown.
“Why are you wearing that to a coffee shop?” I spit out, much harsher than I intended, and her head snaps up.
“Because I never get to wear dresses and this is one of the few I own. Now, I'm going to get going. Don't forget about Sunshine here.”
She wiggles her fingers at me. Whether she's mocking me or being genuine, I don't know and I shouldn't care. The cat pads after her, then turns at the doorway and hisses. Fucking cats. I wonder if he can sense my emotions—the ones I haven't fully settled. Some familiars can do that, though I didn't realize Clara had one. This fluffball seemed to have shown up out of nowhere.
I sigh as the sound of the front door closing echoes through the house. It takes everything in me not to go after her and tell her to stay here. I don't. Mostly because I don't have a death wish. I don't need someone in my life, especially not a witch.
I need to shut down any thoughts of taking things further with her now before it gets out of hand. Before I can't resist her any longer. If I keep reminding myself, maybe I’ll finally be free of this entanglement.
My head swims as I turn and call upon my magic to take me home. Shadows billow around me, casting me in a thick darkness. There's no pull in my stomach, no twisting of time, and no melding of dimensions. My eyes roll back and I can feel my body fall in slow motion. A softness engulfs me, and I have one thought before I pass out.
Fuck.
Ihad high hopes for this date with Brandon. I should have tempered my expectations. Going out with someone should be fun and carefree, at least for the first time. It shouldn't be weird. Except Brandon isn't making it easy.
He blabbers on across from me, his hands waving around. He's almost hit his coffee cup half a dozen times while he goes on and on about his fantasy football league. When he asked me if I knew what it was, I said I did, but apparently he heard, “tell me everything about it like I've been living in a cave for sixty years.” It's annoying and I gave up trying to steer the conversation to something else. I stopped listening twenty minutes ago.
Now I'm wondering how the hell I can get out of this disaster. I don't have anyone to fake an emergency phone call with. My friends are still away on another group family vacation. I got the text about the trip right before Brandon approached me a few days ago. I blame my distraction on why I didn't notice the redflags waving in my face. Brandon was probably throwing them at me, and I missed every single one.
I'm loath to admit the other reason I jumped all over Brandon's offer to take me out. My thoughts have been entirely consumed with Omen and I need something to pull me out of this loop.
