Page 12 of Witches and Wine
“Chelsea,” I answered, not stopping the pour until it reached the brim but didn’t overflow.
Bruce’s head appeared over the top of the couch and he suddenly sobered. “The red-headed broad?”
“Hey—” I grabbed an entire vine of grapes from a wooden bowl and hurled them at him, smacking him square in the forehead. “—don’t call her that.”
After Bruce sputtered, he raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. But is that who you’re talking ‘bout? The one you been texting and pining over?” A sly grin creased Bruce’s lips, and he rested his chin on his arm, supported on the couch’s back.
“She lives in the Cove now,” I continued, propping my ass against the back counter and slurping a quarter of the wine.
Bruce nodded until reaching the same epiphany I had, his chin lifting. “Wait. I thought she was human.”
“Me too. Clearly, she’s not.” I grumbled the last words and ran my fingertip over the grooved designs of the metal leaves on the drink’s cup.
Bruce scratched the back of his ear with a hoof like a damn animal, making me wince from fear he had fleas. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”
We’d been worlds apart before we knew of each other’s existence. When we met, she’d already been introduced to the magical world of myths and gods I hailed from, which had been far more a breath of fresh air than I could’ve predicted. Now, I’ve learned shewasa part of my world.
“No, Bruce.” Guzzling more wine, I flashed him a toothy smile. “This is fuckinggreat.”
The next day,I awoke from the strangest dream. One would think it’d have been of the scandalous variety with a specific wine god, but it was me staring out my apartment window from such an incredibly odd angle. It was as if I was leaning my head on the armrest of the couch or something. My head motions were also weird because I moved so suddenly and erratically. When I opened my eyes, I stretched my limbs into a star beneath my comfy pale green comforter and yawned.
Riley was perched on the couch’s armrest staring out the—I sat up and stared at my pet ferret. He was staring out the same window I’d dreamt about. How was that possible? He suddenly turned circles, his nose twitching, and abruptly stopped pointing out the window with his elongated body.
“Chelsea,” Dion yelled from outside.
He’d said we would get started this morning, but why would he be here this early? Glancing at the digital clock on my nightstand did nothing for my cause. I’d slept in. Really slept in.It was almost ten thirty. I couldn’t recall a time I’deverslept this late.
“Oh, Red,” Dion beckoned again, louder this time. “I’m going to keep embarrassing you until you acknowledge my presence.” He’d drawn out the first “e,” and by the tilt in his voice, I could tell he grinned through it all.
Biting back a smile, I scrambled from my bed and knelt on the couch, unlocking the window and pushing it open. Dion stood on the sidewalk in front of my building, clad in his usual combat boots, military jacket, torn dark jeans, and tightly ribbed tank top. I clenched my thighs together and leaned my forearms on the sill. “Didn’t think to knock on my door?”
“How could I?” Dion shielded his eyes with a hand from the sun. “I didn’t know which one was yours.”
Tapping my hands on the wood, I leaned out further, half my body through the window now. “I thought a man of your—” I paused, knowing most of the building and anyone passing by could hear us, and I didn’t want to blow his cover. “—caliber would have a way to tell?”
Dion scrunched his nose like he’d gotten a whiff of minotaur shit. “Like how?”
“I don’t know. X-ray vision? Like Superman?” It took everything in me not to sway my hips like a teeny bopper with a crush on a rock star with what this man did to me. And here I was again with zero make-up, and I couldn’t care less.
Dion laughed and shook his head. “Trust me. No one wantsmewith that kind of power. You comin’ down, or do I have to fireman carry you out of there?”
My stomach flipped over itself at that, and I tightly gripped the window’s molding. “Give me five minutes.”
Dion nodded as if he didn’t believe me. “So, in female code, does that mean an hour?”
“What?” I feigned shock, pressing a hand to my chest. His gaze zeroed in on the placement instantaneously. “Alright, thirty minutes tops. Do you want to wait inside?”
The words flew from my mouth before I had a chance to think about the implications of such a simple question rationally.
Dion’s hand dropped, and he arched a thickly sculpted brow. “In your apartment?”
I knew inviting him in was playing with fire, but it’d been so long since I took risks. Nodding, I lifted my chin. “Yeah. As long as you can grab the door in time for me to buzz you in. Three, two—” Not giving him another part of the countdown, I dashed for the buzzer, all outgigglingas I went and hit the button. The lower-toned sound indicating the street door had been opened resonated, and Iswoonedover a freaking door.
My heart raced as I waited for him to reach my apartment, my hands clasped under my chin. The deep thuds of his booted, heavy steps echoed down the hallway until they stopped, and his knuckles knocking on my door replaced it. “It’s me, Red.”
Pressing my eye to the peephole, I yelped when his face, distorted by the fisheye effect, stared back at me. “You’ll have to specify whomeis, I’m afraid.”
“You do know I can still get in there with the door locked?”
