Page 86 of Summertime Hexy
Certain.
The kind of kiss that saysI know who you are. I still choose you.
His hand cups my jaw, the calluses rough but his touch gentle. He kisses me back like he’s memorizing the shape of this exact moment.
When we pull away, breathless, I rest my forehead against his.
“I think we’re building something good.”
“We are,” he whispers. “We already have.”
And now, I don’t feel like a spark trying to escape the fire.
I feel like Ibelong.
CHAPTER 29
HAZEL
Sunday mornings used to be for sleeping in and regretting bad decisions.
Now they’re for smoothies made out of bloodfruit, half-exploded mushrooms, and trying to stop Derek from murdering a six-eyed goat with a superiority complex.
“Don’t stab it,” I say, holding out my hands like I’m trying to defuse a bomb. “It’s a baby. It doesn’tknownot to eat your boots.”
“Itatemy boots, Hazel.”
“Correction—itlickedyour boots aggressively.”
“It hissed and then spit fire.”
“That could describemebefore coffee.”
Derek gives me the look. The one that says he’s half in love with me and half certain I’m the reason his blood pressure’s abnormally high.
I grin.
He sighs.
We’re currently standing in the new enchanted creature enclosure we built behind the ward cabins. Technically it’s just a reinforced glade with charm-thread fencing, a minor levitationnet, and a bunch of very smug magical animals who know we won’t actually cook them.
Yet.
In the far pen, Milo is trying to wrangle a group of bouncing star-fleas back into their stasis jars with a net made of moonthread and sarcasm.
“Could younotlevitate the container over your head?” I shout.
Milo yells back, “They respond to authority! I’m asserting dominance!”
One flea explodes in a puff of glitter.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “That’s going great.”
Derek’s pacing now, still grumbling about his boots.
I sidle up beside him, holding out a smoothie cup. “Peace offering.”
He eyes it. “What’s in it?”
