Page 104 of Hexed
All it’s going to take is one minor quake for the entire thing to blow.
So whoever is knocking on my door at—I look over at the clock—three in the morning better have a good reason for being here.
If it’s Fisher, I’m going to strangle him.
I tried to text him earlier, but my hands were too shaky, and telling anyone about why I’m so viscerally upset would mean actually talking about it, which is definitely something I don’t want to do.
Fisher knows nothing about my childhood.
He’s my best friend, but our friendship is more of the “sit in silence and respect boundaries” type, and avoidance of our pasts has always been a major player in why we enjoy being around each other. We both have daddy issues, and we both have unresolved trauma we handle in less-than-healthy ways. That’s why we connect.Talkingabout things would only make them worse, and we gravitated toward each other because we didn’t push the way others did. Didn’t judge.
And now, even after all these years, there’s a silent boundary in place, urging us to never break it opentoofar, or else we’ll ruin the years of silent acknowledgment that we’ve built.
Grumbling to myself, I throw off my blankets and make my way to the door, throwing it open.
Enzo.
Of course it’s him.
He’s looking at the ground, his forearm resting on the top part of the door. His hair is mussed, bits falling just over his eyebrow like he was in a fight and didn’t have time to fix himself up.
He’s dressed down compared to his usual suits, wearing just his button-up shirt rolled past his elbows, tattoos on full display.
Butterflies explode in my stomach at the sight of him, and like usual, I hate myself for it.
“What are you doing here?” I sigh. “I’m not in the mood.”
He looks up, his blue eyes piercing as they gaze into mine. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Well, I don’t want it,” I say firmly.
He frowns, and I try to close the door on him, but he kicks his foot out, wedging it into the frame. And I might be pissed, but I don’t want tohurthim.
“It’s rude not to accept gifts.” He clicks his tongue.
“Fuck off.” I smile sweetly. “How’s that for rude?”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
Shrugging, I lean my head against the edge of the door, ignoring the way my chest pulls tight. “For what?”
He licks his lips. “For having Aria ask you to be a bridesmaid. That was fucked up of me.”
“She’s your fiancée. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Will you let me explain why?”
I cock my head. “Will it make a difference?”
He stares at me like he thinks maybe it will, but in the end, he shakes his head, his arm still resting on the frame as he leans in farther. “Come with me? Please?”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip while I think about it. I want to, mainly because I wonder what he has for me. “I don’t like gifts; that’s more yourfiancée’s thing. Why don’t you give it to her?” Anger vibrates up my spine at the thought.
Enzo gives a half grin. “This is more of a you-specific surprise.”
My brows rise, curiosity spinning its web and trying to snare me. “I hate it, thanks.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
