Page 77 of Livewire Witch

Then the girl beside me leans forward again to put her cup down, and I catch her scent.

Fruity and floral. So fucking delicious my mouth waters and my dick grows painfully hard.

Fucking hell.

Too much jerking off in the shower, I’ve clearly conditioned myself to grow hard at the smell of this woman’s soap.

I must let out a weird, pained noise because she turns to me with a concerned expression.

“You all right, Fab?”

I blink at her. Gape, really. I am an ineffectual fish.

I don’t know why I’m surprised that she knows my name. Especially when Roscoe finally finishes in the kitchen and drops another plate of sandwiches on the table. He immediately scoops the woman up and sits down on the floor, settling her into his lap.

This must be the girlfriend. The owner of the body wash and hair ties. The one that I’ve overheard moaning his name on more than one occasion.

She calls me ‘Fab’ like we’re friends. Like we know each other.

She’s also looking at me with so much concern and more than a little sadness in her eyes, it makes my chest burn.

“I’m sorry, I—”

I feel fucking hopeless. What kind of jerk doesn’t know his best friend’s girlfriend’s name? Especially when it’s clear from her expression that I should.

“You’re all right,” she whispers. “Nothing to be sorry about.” She then squeezes my hand, and it’s pure lightning going through my fingertips. The sensation is so unexpected I flinch and she drops my hand with a grimace. “My name’s Silver, I’m...”

“The most perfect witch in the world,” Roscoe replies, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck.

And that makes my chest squeeze tight, too. Maybe I’m having a delayed reaction to what happened last night. Or maybe the milk is off and I have indigestion?

Why else would I be feeling this way?

I force a smile and head to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. When I get back, I return straight to thesame position on the floor. Even though it isn’t comfortable and I’m basically torturing myself by trying to get another hit of her scent.

It’s very possible that the stress of everything that’s going on has broken me. I’ve turned into a raging pervert.

With a soap fetish.

I guess there are worse things.

“Silver,” I say and she jolts, staring up at me in a way that makes me feel like I’ve fucked up.

I didn’t get her name wrong, did I? She only told me what it was ten minutes ago.

“Sorry.” I smile and she gives me a soft smile in return, her brows furrowing slightly like she’s confused about why I’m talking to her.

Of course she is.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve been rude to you without meaning to, and I wanted to apologize. I’ve had a lot on my mind and I know that’s no real excuse, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

“Fuck, that’s cute,” Hanna moans from the sofa. She’s watching me make a dick of myself like it’s a soap opera she just loves to watch. She reminds me so much of Seb. I shoot her my middle finger and she cackles.

“You’re supposed to shut up and watch it all unfold, dummy,” Ember mutters to her. “Now, she’s gonna be all self conscious and won’t say whatever she was about to and it’s not half so entertaining.”

Rook gives them both a stern look. “Watch TV if you’re looking to be entertained. Quit being rude.”

I struggle to pull my attention away from the spat unfolding in front of me. The argument is lethargic, like none of them can really be bothered to do anything, but they’re sniping at each other, anyway. Although, it all seems pretty good-natured to me.Nothing like the toxic shit that my family used to throw at each other.

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