Page 57 of Until the Stars Fall

Far below, a door opened. Footsteps and low voices echoed through the room.

“I’m just saying,” Eyre’s voice floated up. “I absolutely love her, and I love how happy you are with her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy in a relationship, honestly. I’m just worried about you getting hurt.”

Hannah and I exchanged frowns. That would’ve been a good time to sit up and admit we were there, but instead of being responsible, normal people, we stared at each other.

Beck’s voice answered, assured. “Gemma would never hurt me.”

His misplaced loyalty was a knife in my heart.

“I don’t think she’d do anything on purpose, but you remember the last time you tried to date a woman who wasn’t a witch. You were miserable.”

I closed my eyes and held my breath, willing him not to out me. Hannah scooped up my hand and squeezed it, no doubt thinking my anguish was for not being a witch.

Beck said something I couldn’t make out before Eyre spoke again.

“I get that, I really do. But you, yourself, asked me to remind you the next time you tried dating a non-witch. So I’m just reminding you, as requested. You know how you always rush in. And as wonderful as she is, this could end badly. You’re her brother’s best friend, we’re all about to live together on a big tract of land. It could get messy and miserable for you both later. I’m looking out for her too, you know.”

“I appreciate you.” His footsteps moved farther away. “But I promise, I’m going in with my eyes wide open, not just my heart. I know she’s the one…”

His voice trailed off, and a tear slipped down my face, my neck, down into my hair. Hannah squeezed me, but I took no comfort. He thought everything was okay, but I was a monster.

Only pieces of Eyre’s words reached my ears. “What about...girl...not giving up on her?”

“Not at all! I’m tellin’ you…” Beck’s voice trailed off as the door opened and closed. Then they were gone.

Hannah and I frowned at each other while I tried to work out what that last part meant. Somehow being complicit with her made the eavesdropping feel like less of a transgression, but I saw my stewed-in-guilt feeling reflected on her face.

Hannah gave a sheepish grimace and sat up. “I guess we shoulda told them we were here.”

My tears fell harder, and she embraced me.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry! It was all good! Beck said he thinks you’re the one! Eyre likes you! And that’s his oldest friend, so you know her opinion’s important.”

“But she’s right! He’ll just be unhappy with me. I can’t ever be the witch he wants.” Even worse, I was about to kill the witch he loved and bring back a weak simulacrum.

Hannah’s mouth opened as if a new thought had occurred to her. “Oh honey, are you sad that you lost your magic?”

Her gentle words were a gut punch, consoling me for my lie to her.

She rubbed my back. “You’ve never wanted to talk about it, so I guess I assumed you were coming to terms with it in your own way. But now you’re extra sad because you’re with Beck, and you think he only wants to be with a witch. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Something like that,” I mumbled. This was my opportunity. I could tell Hannah everything. The truth about our parents, the truth about my magic. I could let go of my guilt but double her sorrow. No. I wouldn’t do it.

“Zola and Noah make it work,” she insisted. “Zola likes being the only witch in the relationship. She says it makes him easier to impress.”

She smiled hopefully at me. I knew she was looking for a laugh, but I didn’t have one to give. “I’m glad it works for them. But what if it doesn’t work for us?”

“Like Eyre said, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Beck so happy—which is saying a lot ’cause he’s generally such a happy guy—and he knows you don’t have magic. Don’t you worry, Gem. It’ll work. Y’all will make it work.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

My doubts and guilt hadn’t kept me from falling straight back into Beck’s bed, and all it took was a hug and a long kiss at the door. Less than five minutes later, we were out of our clothes, and after the stars knew how long of kissing and touching, I was surrounded by the bliss of him moving inside me as he breathed in my ear over and over, “Gemma, you’re amazing, so fucking amazing.”

And now he kissed me sweetly, his hands roaming my skin as if just touching me brought him joy and comfort. “You make me so happy, Gemma,” he said, filling my heart with buoyant joy. I slid my fingers through his beard, pulling his kisses closer.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” He dropped kisses on my brow, my eyelids, my cheeks. He searched my eyes, biting his lip. “I have a confession to make.”

A flame of fear licked my heart, and all my guilt and worry flooded back in. Technically, I had a confession to make, too. “What do you mean?”

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