Page 38 of Pushing Daisy
Daisy snorts. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” She places a hand on Sloan’s hips, holding her in place as she uses her other hand to push herself into a more seated position. Their chests graze as she takes in a deep breath, and again, the smallest point of additional contact sends tingles throughout her body. This has to mean something. Instead of voicing that, though, Daisy continues, “We aren’t the same. You’re a Wilks, former competition to my best friend for Premier Witch. You’re well-known and liked. I’m…me. Perpetual pariah and daughter of the illicit Hale Enterprise. This isn’t a good idea. Plus, you used to bully the shit out of me and made my life miserable. Whatever heat there may be between us won’t work and won’t last.”
“Wow. I think that’s a bit oversimplified. I’m certainly more than my family name. And I think I’ve shown over these past two days I’ve demonstrated that I’m a caring individual who’s grown since I was an idiot with no spine when I was younger. Haven’t you changed since then? Don’t you want to?” Sloan says, her voice no longer heated with desire, anger and frustration having taken its place.
“Princess. You just ended your friendship with those two twatwaffles less than twenty-four hours ago. It took you being stuck with me to realize they were a problem. As great as these makeout sessions have been, I’m still confused and unsure if I can trust you. Add in that I don’t know what I want, and it’s a mess up here,” Daisy says, tapping to her forehead.
Sloan pushes herself off Daisy’s lap and stands by the window, arms crossed, back tense as she looks out. The absence of her weight on top of Daisy leaves her feeling lost as if she is floating through space. Though temporary, Sloan’s physical connection seemed to have grounded her in the literal and figurative sense.
“Sloan, I’m sorry. I’m trying to be honest with you. I don’t want to do something I’d potentially regret, and I don’t want you to think there may be more here than some fooling around. We aren’t friends. We’re barely acquaintances,” Daisy says. She catches Sloan’s twitch. She hit a nerve, and while she doesn’t want to hurt Sloan, she knows she can’t jump into something without considering the history between them. There’s so much. So much pain on Daisy’s end, and so little accountability on Sloan’s. She may claim she’s grown, but Daisy can’t fully see it.
The mood in the room has shifted. The heat that sizzled between them only moments ago is replaced by an icy chill that Sloan may or may not be physically manifesting with her magic. Daisy runs her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm herself. A prolonged silence between them pulses with its own deafening heartbeat.
Sloan finally turns to face Daisy, but without looking at her, she says, “We should probably head down to dinner.”
Daisy nods in agreement. She moves to the edge of the bed, collects her clothes, and enters the bathroom to change, leaving a world of opportunity behind her.
CHAPTER 21
Sloan
Sloan holds the tag for a teabag in her hand and uses it to absentmindedly swirl the bag around her cup. After dinner, Daisy left for another walk, immediately shutting down Sloan’s offer to join her. The rejection stings. Poking at the hole in her chest, reminding her that she is unworthy and unwanted, even for a simple thing like a walk after dinner.
Their meal was awkward at best, punctuated by short comments about the food or the ambiance. Sloan wanted to ask more about Daisy’s ideas for the event. She wanted to offer her connections again and hopefully start to devise a plan that would help to bring the event to fruition. As far as she knows, Daisy has never planned a large event such as this, so she likely doesn’t know those smaller tasks to pay attention to— like any required licenses they would need to host the event here and insurance policies that would be required. But Daisy made it clear through her stunted conversation and constant glances at her phone that she wasn’t interested in any kind of in-depth discussion.
So now, Sloan sits alone in the dim light of their room, swirling her tea like she’s about to read tea leaves and reveal some secret prophecy as she agonizes over every moment from this weekend, trying to figure out what went wrong. More specifically, where did she go wrong?
They’ve made out twice now. Once a bit angrier than the other, but both times, it ended because Daisy pushed her away. They’ve fought only Hecate knows how many times, mainly because Daisy has been completely unreasonable and unwilling to hear anything other than her own thoughts. And as Sloan finally sips her tea, she wonders if the problem is more Daisy than her.
Daisy may be gorgeous with curves that Sloan would love to spend days exploring, but she can’t seem to get past her hang-ups to realize how well they could work together. They clearly have some kind of connection, so why not use it to their advantage? At what point should Sloan step away and tell the council it’s impossible? That she and Daisy simply can’t complete this together?
The thought of telling the council that she can’t do something is gut-wrenching. Admitting that she failed twists her insides like a corkscrew, pinching and tearing as it works its way through. And oh goddess, what would her mother say? She can hear it now. “Looks like you aren’t cut out to be on your own after all. I told you it was pointless.”
Sipping the last drops of her tea, Sloan lets her magic out, sending silver tendrils sprawling around the room to release the tension within. She slumps back in the chair, resting her head on the back, and closes her eyes. Her power answers readily. Eagerly, even. It flows throughout the room, acting of its own accord, picking at the decor and their bags. Breathing deeply, the frustration slowly melts away, dripping beyond her body and through the silver tendrils dancing around the room. She must admit this is one of the many benefits of being a witch. So much of who she is is tied to her power, which means she can use it to help regulate herself and her emotions by simply letting it loose to explore. As it navigates, pokes, and prods, it draws on and releases the energy within her, softening her emotions and allowing clarity to replace them. Despite the freedom gained by letting loose, the magic only acts in line with the owner and their desires. It reflects who they are and does not act outside of how the owner would choose. Unfortunately for Sloan, her power has picked up on some more inner thoughts about Daisy.
She sucks in a breath as the door abruptly opens. The tendrils of her magic freeze in place as if they have been caught in the act. “What the hell?” Daisy says, her voice thick with leftover tears.
Sloan pops an eye open and scans around the room. Yeah, that’s worth a question. Apparently, she should have been paying more attention to what her magic was doing, as she notes a few tendrils to her left have rooted through Daisy’s bag and are currently holding a pair of underwear, a bra, and what looks to be a bullet vibrator aloft. Interesting.
She sits up. “Shit. Sorry.” She snaps her fingers as both an admonishment and recall of her magic. “I wasn’t paying attention, and my magic went rogue.”
Daisy slams the door shut, marches to her belongings, and grabs them from the air as Sloan’s magic retreats at her approach. An almost giddy feeling works its way up from the offending tendrils, causing a slight smirk to form.
“You think this is funny? That you violated my privacy?”
“Kind of. I mean, no. Sorry.” Sloan looks down at herself and points a finger at her chest. “Bad magic. Bad.”
Daisy grunts and turns away, but Sloan still catches the accompanying eye-roll. “It’s not funny. Seriously. You’ve completely invaded my privacy.”
“Again, I’m sorry. I honestly wasn’t paying attention and was letting out some tension,” Sloan says, rising and stepping closer to Daisy. “Though it looks like you had planned to do some of that yourself. Do you need me to go for a walk for a bit?”
“Fuck off. I didn’t mean to pack that. It must have been left there from the last time I went away.”
“Uh-huh,” Sloan says, picking up a pair of Daisy’s underwear from the floor. She hooks a finger through the side strap and twirls it around with a mischievous glean in her eye. She’s tried so hard these last few days to play nice and be the new Sloan, but maybe that’s not needed here. Maybe what Daisy needs is a chance to go toe-to-toe with the Sloan she expects. The one she thinks she knows. Fuck it, let’s have some fun. “You know, it’s interesting. Petra was supposed to be here with you this weekend. I knew you two were close, but I didn’t think you were that close.”
“We aren’t. We’re friends.”
“Like how she and Lachlan were friends before she cheated me out of being Premier Witch?”
Daisy’s head rises slowly, her shoulders tense, and Sloan hears the deep intake of breath. That didn’t take as long as she thought it would. Sloan crosses a non-panty holding arm across her stomach and sticks out the opposite leg, readying herself for an onslaught. Only it doesn’t come. Daisy deflates as quickly as she rises to the challenge.
