Page 26 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
I spin to face the kitchen and push my hands against my forehead. Focus on something else. Anything else. Because I’m clenching and releasing my most intimate muscles like a damned warm-up.
Okay, enough is enough. Working with Elias will be a train wreck if I don’t sleep with him, and soon, because how else am I supposed to focus on my store with this distraction dangling in front of me? So, yes, the date is a good excuse to get under him. I take a deep breath and turn back around.
His smirk could start a forest fire. With the towel wrapped around the back of his neck, both hands holding onto the ends of the fabric, he stands like a piece of art. My eyes roam up and down his body, devouring his tattooed chest, then up again. Desire zings through my core.
“Fuck it. You wanna?” I ask and take a step forward. “I have plenty of condoms.”
Elias’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t say a single word. Maybe he didn’t expect me to initiate the whole thing. But, hey, I love sex. Porter may be my most texted number at midnight, with Tristan as my backup, but neither of them have the stamina that I’d imagine from an athlete like Elias.
And yet, even teetering on the edge of desire, I hesitate, remembering what waits beneath my own clothes. I’ve never cared about showing my skin to a partner. But for some reason, I’m self-conscious about Elias knowing about my eczema. His acceptance of my difference is vital; I wouldn’t be able to go on if he rejected me after seeing the spots and rashes on my legs. Could I truly allow myself to be vulnerable with him someday? Why does the idea of that make my knees wobble?
Crap. I can’t do this. He’s not the same as Porter or Tristan.
“I was joking,” I say, attempting a light laugh. “Go shower, Long John.”
He covers his briefs with his hands and backs away into the bathroom. When the door closes, I sink to the ground. Why in the Abyss did I offer to let him sleep here?
The next day, we stand on opposite sides of the kitchen, a counter between us. It doesn’t stop his gaze from scorching a hole through my soul, though. The way he’s looking at me is nothing but trouble.
“Alrighty, the second favor is helping me collect the ingredients for the antidote that would cancel out the purple poison,” I say, swiping on my phone, glad to be given an excuse to look away from his distracting face. “Here it is. Carrots, three seeds from a Futsu pumpkin, and holly berries from a raven’s nest, mixed with a spoon of yarn on a starry night.”
The traditional witch practices are also an option for Nergs. It’s looked down upon culturally for a Fuzer to dabble in witchcraft since Nergs believe it’s unfair if we have access to both. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Plus, it’s not like witchcraft has been proven to be authentic, so there’s no chance of knowing if an antidote will work.
He leans back against my kitchen counter. “So, from my expert spy skills, I gather you curse items with revenge paint? Am I on the right track?”
I bite my lip, hating how relieving it is that someone finally knows this secret side of me.
“You’re like a Fuzer Batman. You give us the power of revenge but refuse to let us curse our fellow kind and you’ve made sure the curses are mild and only last temporarily. It’s genius how you’ve protected yourself by using such specific wording in your spell.”
It never occurred to me that I’d enjoy his approval, someone who doesn’t have anything to gain or lose from my scheme. Not moving from his spot, Elias’s gaze trails after me as I prepare my coffee machine and search for my favorite mug.
“I admire how you shot down Alexandra’s request for a more powerful curse. That’s gotta be hard to deny a client.”
I avoid his eyes, so he doesn’t have the chance to see what I’ve buried deep for years. I didn’t only set up this business to save extra money, but to help Fuzers like me who have been bullied or used. I’m glad if my service strengthens our kind even a little bit.
“I have one lead.” I show my phone screen to him. “This is Alexandra’s ex. She works at Raven Slam coffee shop. I reached out to her last night when you were sleeping and she’s willing to chat.”
He mumbles something I can’t understand, then snags his car keys from the counter. “Let’s go.”
Except for the cemetery of empty water bottles, Elias’s car is surprisingly clean. As I settle into my seat, I breathe in the aromas wafting from the air freshener scent blowing through the vent. It’s a scent I can’t identify. Strawberry, maybe?
In the driver’s seat, Elias glances at my seatbelt, then gives me a thumbs up.
“Really?” I roll my eyes. “We’re not seventeen anymore.”
“Speaking of, we have some catching up to do.” His elbow bumps against mine. Neither of us move, and I wonder if his skin is also on fire at the spot of contact. “I propose a game! Ten speedball questions. No one leaves the car until we answer them all.” Before I even have a chance to refuse, he starts, “I noticed you sniffing my car. What’s a scent that reminds you of childhood?”
“That’s what you want to know most?”
“Answer the question, Sunflower.”
I sigh. “Laundry detergent and soap.”
He nods. “Favorite day of the week?”
“Monday, obviously. It’s the only day our store is closed so I sleep in,” I reply so fast it knocks the wind out of me.
How is he doing this? It’s the second time he’s gotten me to open up. Against all odds, I had voluntarily told him about Aunt Felice teaching me to knit. Where on earth had that come from? I’m not sure even Tinsley knows that about me. I feel inexplicably safe when it comes to Elias.
