Page 45 of Must Love Libraries and Libations
I nodded.
“Oh, Prim. Did you… I mean, you’re wearing the same dress as yesterday and your hair looks like you’ve been thoroughly mussed.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “We were…close. Is it that obvious?”
“To me? Yes. To Winifred? Of course. To anyone else? Probably not. What happened?”
“I went to talk about the party, and everything went wrong. We got trapped in a hidden room by a rogue spell.”
“Rogue spell?”
I nodded.
“Interesting. Then…”
“Well, we talked. Really talked. And then we…” I gestured helplessly.
“Had amazing sex?”
“Not exactly, but close. Very close. And I told him I was falling for him.”
“And?”
“He said he was falling for me too.” The words came out thick with hurt. “But then this morning, he said it was all a mistake. That we were under the influence of wine and magic and weren’t thinking clearly. Maybe he was right. I don’t know anymore.”
Zarina sighed heavily. “You need tea,” she said, then went back behind the counter. “Comfort? Clarity? Or should I brew you something that’ll give you the courage to go back there and set his books on fire?”
Despite everything, I laughed. “Comfort, I think. Maybe with a side of clarity.”
She bustled around the kitchen, pulling jars from shelves with practiced ease. “Chamomile for comfort, mint for clarity, a touch of honey blossom for sweetness in bitter times,” she murmured, adding ingredients to a delicate porcelain pot. “And just a pinch of phoenix root for inner fire.”
“Phoenix root? Zarina, that’s expensive.”
“Hush. This is an emergency.” She poured steaming water over the herbs, and immediately the kitchen filled with a scent that was both soothing and invigorating. Returning to the table, she set the cup in front of me. “Now, tell me about this mistake business.”
I wrapped my hands around the warm cup she set before me, breathing in the fragrant steam. “He said people don’t think clearly under magical influence. That we acted on impulses we wouldn’t normally have.”
“Uh-huh. And what do you think?”
“I think he’s scared. He’s been alone for so long. He watches everyone he cares about age and die while he stays the same. I think the idea of caring about someone new terrifies him.”
“Do you want me to tell you what I really think or just say something to make you feel better?”
“Truth.”
“Then, I’m going to say something you might not want to hear.”
“Go ahead.”
“What you just described? Red smoke, my friend. So much red smoke.”
I bristled. “He’s not?—”
“A bad person? Maybe not, but he is a man who’s so scared of connection that he’ll hurt someone to avoid it. That’s a problem. And you know what the biggest problem is?”
“What?”
“He made you doubt yourself. You’re sitting here wondering if your feelings were real, if the connection was real, if you were thinking clearly. He’s got you questioning your own experience.”
