“Huh?” I ask, befuddled by my own musings.
“You asked what I’d prefer, and that’s it.”
“What is?”
“I’m going to make you come all over this island,” he says with a big, confident grin.
I choke on my spit then glance around us to see if anyone is eavesdropping.
“I’m pretty sure we’ll go to jail for that.”
“Only if we’re caught. And still, if we avoid children’s parks, we won’t get much more than a fine,” he says with giddy anticipation, then adds with a shrug, “Probably.”
“Probably…how do you know this?” I ask.
“I’ve read all the recent bylaws,” he says.
“Bastian, you’re not making me come anywhere on this island,” I say.
He leers, positively radiating excitement. “We’ll see.”
The ferry comes into the port with a gentle jostle. The attendants help us disembark and I’m glad for it, because I really couldn’t drive my car with visions of Bastian doing all kinds of naughty things flashing through my head.
We don’t drive far for the next pickup, and the author recommends the best restaurant for fish and chips when I tell her I’m a Pescetarian. We find a lot to park in for a few hours and take to the strip by the harbor. It’s a small stretch of about a quarter mile, but it’s lined with shops and restaurants. Scents of cooked fish and fried things trickles through the wind, inspiring my hunger—but I want to shop more!
Bastian’s hand brushes mine briefly. An electric shock travels through me from the spot and I gasp. He glances at me with a smirk, then grabs my hand. My face is on fire and my smile is unstoppable as we stride down the quaint street, Oscar trotting along just ahead of us.
There’s a textile store I have to go in, but they’ve got a strict no pets rule. Bastian, much to his dismay, is stuck outside with Oscar as I shop. He looks in the window with stalker-like intensity and I laugh at how both he and Oscar seem like statues.
When I tell the attendant about my shop, she squeals and pulls out her phone, showing me her Instaframe page. She’s already following Second Chance Fantasy and tells me she’d planned a trip for her day off on Wednesday.
We talk far too long about books as she leads me from fabric to fabric. So long, Bastian comes inside with Oscar and starts following us around. Jenn, the attendant, doesn’t shoo him off; too engrossed in our conversation to really notice.
In the end, I spend probably too much on some gorgeous faux leather and a glittery purple satin I don’t yet have a use for. I pick up some standard supplies too, and then we’re off and on our way, Jenn promising to visit next week.
A touristy shop catches my attention next, and I drag Bastian inside to force hats and t-shirts against him. He frowns as I hold a particularly bedazzled pink sweatshirt that says “Made on Madiland” against his chest. I giggle, then hold it up to me, and he smiles.
My chest aches from how full I feel, in the best kind of way.
We buy a few souvenirs, then head to the recommended restaurant. The fish and chipsarethe best I’ve ever had, and I have zero regrets about how much oil I’ve just consumed. We’re strolling along the other side of the street when my phone pings to let me know the last ferry will leave in an hour.
We bring the bags back to the car and Bastian helps Oscar into the back. I’m reaching for the driver’s door when he pulls me back. I yelp as he wraps an arm around my middle, hugging me tight to his chest.
“I have a promise to fulfill, at least in part,” he says, caressing my neck with his other hand.
“Oh, what’s that?” I ask, though I haven’t forgotten at all.
“I said,allover this island, and I meant it,” he says. “Use your magic to obscure us from view.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I say, fear tickling my insides.
“You can,” he says. “Do it now. I’m going to loose my wings.”
I suck down a breath and push my will through my hands.
Hide us.
Orange ekes out from my palms and swirls around our bodies. The magic settles and when I look down, I see nothing but the car and the asphalt.
