Page 23 of Hexed, Vexed, & Undersexed
I wrinkle my nose at the sight of the ridiculous tunic, but notice it’s not the olive-green one from before. It’s bright purple, like my hair.
“Either I’m going to look like a rock star or Barney—not that it matters since I’ll stick out like a sore thumb regardless,” I conclude.
“You won’t look anything like that overstuffed dinosaur when I’m done with you, love,” Jake reassures.
“You’re going to be perfect; all of America will adore you,” Preston agrees, and Chance nods his head sincerely.
“Where have the three of you been all my life?” I tease.
A girl could get used to this kind of talk.
“What’s in the box?” Preston wonders, pointing at Gram-Gram’s gift I’m still holding.
“Huh, I forgot that I had this, but don’t think I’ve forgotten about earlier! You have something to tell me.”
My coach heaves a sigh.
“The box, Nora,” he prods.
“It’s a good luck charm from my grandma,” I explain as I open the gift. “Well, shit. . .”
I suck in a breath at the sight of the necklace nestled in the soft cloth that my gram-gram lined the box with. It’s a crescent moon pendant studded with crystals. The whole of it glows faintly. To the human eye, it appears to only be reflecting the lights, but to a true witch’s eye, I can see the magic resonating from its core. Gram’s powers are minimal, but there nonetheless. Beside me, Preston starts to chuckle.
“Your grandma is a wise one.”
“Why’s that?” I wonder with an arch of my brow.
“It’s your name,” he points out.
“Um. . . what?”
“Crystal Moon.”
Suddenly, his meaning becomes, well,crystalclear.
“This will help everyone to remember your name.”
“It’s so pretty—it suits you perfectly,” Chance compliments.
“Look at that glow! It’s like there’s a little light inside of the crystals,” Jake observes as he helps me fasten it around my neck.
I hum in agreement and let the two men work their own brand of magic while I stare at Preston in the mirror. He’s texting on his phone but casts glances at me often. I try not to fidget in my seat, irritated that he’s not telling me. . .whatever it is. Ugh. I hate when people do this because I always blow it waaaaaaaaaay out of proportion in my mind and play the ‘what if’ game.What if it’s this? What if it’s that?!Never mind I have no idea what either scenario entails—my mind freaks out regardless.
“Okay, almost finished,” Chance murmurs. “You have such a fresh, quiet beauty.”
I smirk.
“I don’t think anyone has called me ‘quiet’ before,” I joke.
“I can understand why,” Preston chuckles, and I flip him the bird in the mirror—because he can’t make my hand swell.
“Perfect!” Chance claps, clearly done, but Jake steps in my way before I can see the finished results.
“Almost, she needs the pièce de résistance,” he says in a fancy French accent.
I feel him slap something cool and wet against my bare arm—I’m wearing my standard tank and yoga pants in varying shades of black. I give Preston a look and Binx eyes Jake warily, unsure if he can trust what he’s doing. That makes two of us since I’m wondering what the hell is happening. After about a minute, Jake steps back and I see that he’s placed a temporary tattoo on my left bicep.
Of what, you ask.
