Page 38 of A Witch's Guide to Surviving Halloween
Oliver’s head falls back in exasperation, and he runs his hands over his face again until they knot in his hair. “It’s . . . sour.”
I have to press my lips together to hold back the giggle building in my throat.
“It’s not funny,” he chides, but I can’t help it. Exhaustion from the last couple of days is starting to take its toll, and my face splits into an ear-to-ear grin as my shoulders shake.
“It’s a little funny,” I tell him quietly between giggles. “Maybe we can introduce your sourdough starter to our new bookworm. I think they’d be quick friends.”
With that, Oliver breaks. His face screws into an expression that speaks of his own amused disbelief at this absurd situation, and we both fall into fits of laughter. But when the chuckles eventually die out, we’re left with an awkward silence filled with unanswered questions and seemingly unsolvable problems.
“So, what do we do now?” Oliver asks, and I feel as though he’s asking about more than just the curse.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Grandma didn’t teach us much about curses, let alone how to break them. She always emphasized staying away from them altogether. When I was younger, I thought it was just common sense; now I realize there was more to it than that. Lucy thinks our only hope is to go about things the old-fashioned way: Solve the riddle, break the curse.”
His lip curls, and I can see the gears of his mind turning with thought. “My grandpa and dad taught me what they could. Shockingly enough, grandpa had a small obsession with breaking curses.” A laugh bubbles out of him at that. “But my hometown didn’t have much magic to speak of. Enough to learn by, but nothing like Ashwood Haven. All his lessons were more theoretical than practical.”
We fall into a thoughtful lull, listening to the sourdough starter whine and moan about loneliness and manners. Oliverstares in that direction, hand on his chin, eyes distant as if reliving those old memories.
“I’ll have to pull out some of my old notes, but I think I might have an idea. Can we do it tonight?”
“Oh, sure.” I cock my head at him, my words flat with sarcasm. “We can do that right in the middle of the movies tonight.”
He blinks at me. “What movies?”
I cross my arms over my chest, all the irritation I built up overnight flooding back. “The movies. You know, the ones you cheated your way into getting complimentary tickets to?”
A cocky grin splits his face. “Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. I won a VIP ticket to attend tonight’s movie fest alongside this year’s sponsor.”
I roll my eyes.
Men and their egos, I swear.
“So we sneak away. Who cares?”
A blush creeps up my neck at the thought of everyone seeing Oliver and I sneak off in the dead of night. After all the shit they were giving me last night about my love life? No thanks. “I do. Everyone will think we’re hooking up.”
His brows tick up, and that dimple in his cheek makes an appearance, a mischievous look that says he’s perfectly okay with that. That look sends my thoughts spiraling, wondering what it would be like to actually sneak off with him in the night. For him to grab my hand and lead me off into the shadows, closing the space between us and showing me what that kiss two nights ago would have felt like if we could have followed through.
But just like that, the already buzzing magic we’ve been keeping at bay starts to build. This whole time, we’ve kept distance between us, kept the conversation focused on the seriousness of this curse, but now that it’s turned flirty, themagic is starting to roil. Despite knowing the consequences, it pushes my thoughts and eyes further south. Moving from his lips to the full expanse of his chest, the sleeves of his shirt hugging his arms . . . and lower. When I feel the heat of his gaze on me as well, the magic starts to grow ever more antsy, becoming a crawling sensation along my skin, warning me away as it pulls me closer.
Oliver steps closer, narrowing the space between us, but the moment is immediately ruined by a screeching wail coming from the back room.
I stumble back toward the door, allowing the heat between us to cool off and the magic to begin settling again.
“So . . .” I start, determinedly holding his gaze and refusing to let my mind wander anymore. “Sneak away from the movie tonight. Got it.”
Oliver’s face is blazing red as he turns away, running that hand through his hair. “Got it.”
I rush out the door and back to Moonlit Pages. The moment the glass is between us, the town’s magic fades away, returning to a state of happy contentment.
Chapter Sixteen
“‘’Til truths unfold, and masks descend,’” Oliver mutters yet again, poring over the curse as if he hasn’t spent the last hour at the coffee bar reading everything we found relating to his grandfather and his family’s history here in Ashwood Haven. “I mean . . . It sounds like all we have to do is figure out whatever truth it’s referring to and we’ll be all set.”
“Easier said than done,” Lucy muses as she pours sweet foam over the top of a vibrant green matcha latte. “There’s no mention of a lie or a betrayal in there anywhere.”
She comes around the end of the coffee bar, handing the cup to Oliver, who sits on one of the stools. He takes a sip of the matcha, and I can’t look away as he uses his tongue to clean the light green foam from his lip before setting the cup down on the counter.
Oliver frowns down at the diary, reading over the curse again. “I don’t think it’s that simple. If it were, it’d be more of a hex or a jinx. Something easily undone with an apology and a quick reversal spell. But with the way the magic is acting, this goes way deeper than that. We have to figure out what it was thathappened between our grandparents that was so hurtful neither of them could own up to it, then we might be on the right track.”
