Page 19 of Love's a Witch
“I’m used to seeing people fall forme,” Lyra clarified, not being remotely arrogant. She was just stating the facts. How she remained down-to-earth, I did not know, but somehow my stunning sister was just as sweet as she looked. “His eyes weren’t on me, Sloane. They were on you.”
“That’s because I’m in the driver’s seat.”
“Hardly. It’s because he wants to play spin the bottle with you.” Nova made kissy-faced sucking noises.
“What are you… a child?” I flicked a glance at the rearview mirror to see Nova enthusiastically kissing her hand. “Who even plays spin the bottle anymore?”
“I don’t know. I figured it was something you ancient folks played at parties in high school.”
“Ancient? Kindly go screw yourself, Nova. You’re barely two years younger than me.”
“Aww, did I strike a nerve, darling?” Nova beamed, happy with herself. “I’m told werewolves are quite bitchy around that time of the month.”
“I’m not going to be a werewolf!” I slammed the brakes a touch harder than necessary in front of our house and slid the front of the car neatly into a snowbank. “Lovely, just lovely.”
“I know a hot… muscular… dreamy”—Lyra panted the words, putting on a sex-bomb act, trailing a finger down her chest—“grumpy provost who will help you out of a jam.”
“I should have left you two at home,” I grumbled, getting out of the car and walking to the snowbank to assess the damage. The front of the car was tucked into the pile of snow, but not far enough that it would be an issue. At least I hoped not. Considering myself parked, I opened the back door to a grinning Nova and snagged some of the market bags.
“You love me,” Nova insisted.
“Nope. Not even sure you’re my sister.”
“We’re definitely sisters. Who else would put up with your attitude?”
“Myattitude? You make me look like sunshine and lollipops, dear.”
“Yes, that’s you. Just an explosion of sparkles everywhere you go.”
“Maybe not sparkles, but at least I don’t make people reach for their weapons.”
“Aww, thank you.” Nova paused at the front door, holding a hand filled with shopping bags to her heart. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Rolling my eyes, I pushed the door open, looking back at Nova as I stepped inside.
“Being intimidating is not a positive personality trait.”
“Maybe in your world it’s not.” Nova preened. Sighing, I turned and skidded to a stop, Nova slamming into me from behind.
“Surprise!” Broca sang.
The entire first floor had been transformed. Gone were the moldy sheets covering the furniture and the thick layer of dust on the baseboards. Streamers crisscrossed the ceiling, twinkle lights fell in curtains along the walls, and a pile of presents awaited opening on the living room table in front of the couch.
“Happy birthday, babes.” Nova smacked a kiss on my cheek and ducked away before I could swat at her with my grocery bags.
“Broca! You were supposed to be resting up. Not doing all this.” I hurried over to where Broca stood with her walker, in navy-blue high-waisted trousers and a sequined jumper.
“Pssht, it was hardly a bother now, was it? Just a smidge of magick and everything was put to sorts. Go on, go on, sit.” Broca waved me toward the couch.
“My birthday is tomorrow,” I pointed out, dropping the shopping bags on the kitchen counter and taking off my coat. After hanging it up, I moved to the couch and plopped down, staring at the pile of gifts. Anxiety kicked up. Gesturing at the pile, I opened my mouth—
“Yes, we know we have to move all the time, and we shouldn’t have bought you so much stuff and where will you put it and there’s no space and all that…” Nova waved away what she knew I was about to say.
“But don’t worry, we thought ahead,” Lyra promised, closing the front door behind her and dropping the rest of the bags in the kitchen. “This is an extra-special gift for our favorite witch.”
“Sixty percent of the time.” Nova slanted me a look, and I gave her the finger.
“We wanted to do something today, because we know the Charms will show up tomorrow to see what your magick is, and it’s just a nice moment with us girls, isn’t it? Family.” Broca eased herself into the armchair, waving away my offer of help. Once settled, she slapped her hands on her thighs. “Now, shall we have ourselves a wee party?”
