Page 60 of Hexed & Hazy

He lets out a surprised laugh and steps closer. “God. I was, too. I almost missed you. If I had been a few seconds later, you would have been gone. And I would lose my nerve.”

Of course, it’s fate—the fates have always enjoyed playing little games, and I’ve never felt them stronger than I have in this moment. A magical force has been driving us together all along, and I’m the thing that’s been delaying it.

But there’s one thing, one word he uses, that catches my attention.

“What nerve have you been working up?” I ask. “I’ve always known you to be quite a confident man.”

“I definitely try to be.”

Yet there’s something between us. Too much space. Too much left unsaid. I’m the one who needs to pluck up the courage this time, and I will.

I step closer.

He doesn’t back away.

“I’m sorry,” I say, “for making so many assumptions about you. I know you. My assumptions are about me—things I’m working through—not you.”

He shrugs. “You usually know me too well. You’re allowed to be wrong at least one time.”

I don’t care about whether I’m wrong or right anymore. Seth’s past is in the past; the present has been pushing us together.

For the first time in my life, I don’t care. No anxiety. No nagging thoughts.

I’m free. And I want to see what he sees in me—if there’s anything to see.

“I don’t want to assume anymore. I want to know you, and I want you to know me. It isn’t easy for me to let people in, but for you, I’ve always wanted that.”

He blinks. “I want that too. I feel like—like I already do. Don’t I?”

“Maybe I’m saying this wrong. About Laurel⁠—”

“It’s never been about Laurel. That’s what I came to say, and I mean it. My friendship with her is important to me. She’s important to me. But you are too. You always have been. I’m sorry if I didn’t make you feel that way.”

“Then who is it about? Why… why don’t you see how I look at you, Seth?”

He blinks. “How… how you…”

I force myself to hold my head high, and he lets out a soft, shaky breath, his intense gaze meeting mine. His lips part. Rather than look away as I have so many times before, I hold his stare.

“It’s not about that,” he says. “There’s no one. It’s just everything else. All the things you already know. My family. My hex. My everything.”

Warmth blossoms in my chest and spreads through my fingers. I take his hand, letting it flow to him, sharing everything I have. All of my magic. All of my love. “None of that is enough to make me stop wanting you, and that doesn’t mean you have to want me back, but I need it to be known. I can’t keep hiding.”

“I—I wouldn’t want you to.”

“Good.”

I stand on my tiptoes, giving him plenty of time to pull away, but he doesn’t. There’s no surprise in his features. His free hand moves to my cheek, resting there as my eyes flicker shut and our soft lips meet.

Gentle.

Determined.

Somewhere, someone gasps. They squeak, and we pull away, our eyes wild as Farrah Poole shuffles inside. If I had words to share, I would probably apologize to her—no one wants to watch a couple of people kissing on the sidewalk, no matter how brief it is.

But I’m wordless. Breathless. Instead, I laugh. Surprised.

And that should be the end of it, but it isn’t.