Page 94 of Fairy Godmothers Aren't Cheap

“Half and half. One half good, one half for the animal I’ll be eating with.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a prim smile and then got up to grab a few plates from the kitchen. But before I could make it off the cushions, James snagged me, pulling me back against him, his arms around me, his lips nuzzling my neck.

I giggled and squirmed as his lips tickled me. He caught my earlobe in his teeth, his breath hot on my cheek. I wiggled until I was facing him and our kisses turned deep.

I’d planned sometime this week to institute and maintain some friendship boundaries, so I didn’t start doodling his name in my notebooks. The goal was to not be completely crushed when Estelle pulled all of my wishes off of James and he went back to his own state of free will again.

But this evening had been nice. Really nice. Chill and fun, even though we hadn’t done much. I didn’t want to let go of these moments. They were small, but felt so right. I liked cuddling up on the couch, and found I could think about family and marriage without getting that itching feeling in my legs. Maybe I had a dormant gene that allowed me to be a homebody like James?

If this was what a steady relationship was like, then I understood why Tamara missed it so badly. Hanging out with James felt natural and I began to think that maybe I could do this after all, while loving every second of it. The idea that I could maybe make something such as marriage work with someone like James tickled me more than the idea that unicorns might be real. Or had been. I still didn’t have a clear message from Estelle about their status. Real? Not real? Alive? Extinct? Maybe Josie knew.

I sighed in James’s arms, spent from our kissing.

Our pizza arrived, and we snuggled, eating our respective halves before burrowing in for more TV.

“James?”

“Hm?” His arm was heavy on my shoulders, but it was pleasant, like a weight securing me against strong winds.

This was another rare moment of quiet. Of calm. Of being happy exactly where I was. Not thinking about the next thing. Not itching to get moving or questioning what it all meant. I just loved being here. Nothing to say, nothing to tell. No big story or grand adventure. Just…being.

I didn’t want to dive into what I was feeling or not feeling. I didn’t want to pick it apart or understand it. I only wanted to enjoy this moment with him and to no longer be afraid.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling his arm tighter around me.

He kissed my cheek, saying nothing, simply holding me tight like he knew exactly what I’d warred against, and that right now, all of my internal weapons had been set aside.

I think this might be contentment.

Two hours later, feeling sleepy from the coziness of our cuddles, I sat up, stretching out my torso.

James didn’t have to work in the morning, but I did. I still had Tuesday onward to grind through. A wash of guilty soot coated my mood, familiar and bitter as reality sank back in. I turned to James. “You know that if I could fix your life, I would.”

I’d wished long and hard about James, asking Estelle to let him slip out of my life, and out of this mess. Untouched. Unscathed. Like we’d just been two bingo balls that had briefly bumped into each other in the space-time continuum. For a few days, I’d thought it had worked. But clearly, it hadn’t.

As I sat here, the week pressing on me, the yearning to spend every moment of it with James, I mentally begged for her help. I couldn’t say no to this man, and that meant I couldn’t protect him from the shrapnel of my life. I needed her to put the wedge between us that was supposed to be there. The one that would be there if I hadn’t made a big wish for him to like me back.

She needed to fix this. Now.

Even though it would crush me.

I put my face in my hands for a moment, elbows on knees.

Why couldn’t I just have this? This evening had been bliss. Such a reprieve.

But this wasn’t real. My boyfriend was under a spell.

James finally spoke, reminding me that I’d spoken earlier. “There’s nothing wrong with my life.”

He was frowning at me, the line between his brows a deepening canyon.

“I only meant that I bring chaos, and I ruin everything by?—”

He leaned in, placing his mouth over mine to shut me up.

His lips were like a Peter’s milkshake on a hot summer’s day; that first hit of cold on the back of your dry throat, an instant reprieve from all the crappy things in your life.

I sighed at the sweet sensation of his lips against mine, and then we found our rhythm, the syncing of our souls or something equally poetic and I was gone. Mind blank, my hands zipping up the hard plains of pecs in front of me.

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