by May Dawson
11
“Well?” My grandfather demanded as soon as I walked into the house.
I held up my hand as he joined me in the foyer. “Can you get your own life drama please? I don’t need you to be this invested.”
He rested his good hand on the foyer table, as if he was trying to take some of the weight off his joints. As he eased his weight from one foot to the other, my heart ached as if it had arthritis too.
“Maybe I just want to know how your first day on the job went,” he said, “and I’m not asking about your weird love life.”
More gently, I said, “Not a love life. There is no love life.”
Brad was a dickhead, and I could see that, and yet my heart still hurt after our breakup. There had been good times between us. We’d met at college, and sure, I’d had to conceal who I really was from him—he couldn’t know I was a shifter. Over time, I’d started to conceal more and more. To dress the way he liked, and not in my Tinkerbell leggings. To try not to hum or sing constantly, because it was annoying. To not sink into my ‘sulky gloom’ as he called it, but not sing my way out of it, either.
But there had been good times too: long brunches and flowers and weekend-long vacations anywhere we could drive to, goodnight kisses and movie marathons.
“Mm-hmm. How was work?”
“Educational. Blake’s quite the bossy boss—he’s decided I’m going to learn to fix cars.”
“I thought that was what you wanted.”
“They hired me to be a receptionist. I know how to do that—I’m good at it.”
“Of course you are. And that’s something to be proud of. I’m sure you can be good at anything.”
“You’re my grandpa,” I reminded him as I headed for the stairs.
“Yep,” he said. “Which means I’m privy to some of your more epic failures. The time you got kicked out of summer camp. The Marshmallow Incident of 2014. Ballet class.”
“Great pep talk.”
“I’m saying, I wouldn’t lie to you just to make you feel better. You were the worst ballerina I’ve ever seen. Cute in a bun and tutu, but just a wreck. I’ve never seen a second-grader so bad at turning in a circle.... Where are you going?”
“As much as I’m loving this greatest-hits list, I’ve got to take a shower and get ready to go out.”
“Go out? Are you going with Lupine?”
No, but I needed to spend some time with the bestie of my youth ASAP. We had a lot to talk about. “I’m going to dinner with Archer. He’s giving me a tour of what’s new in Silver Springs.”
I could feel my grandfather’s triumphant grin behind me.
“It’s not a date,” I said.
But I had a feeling Archer might disagree.
I took a quick shower—it seemed ridiculous now that I’d showered before work just to crawl around engines all morning—and then, as I did my makeup, I texted Lupine.
What should I wear to a not-date?
She texted back:
Oh good grief. Archer, Blake or Dylan?
How did you know?
I know the four of you. It’s painful to watch.
Thanks. No input on what to wear then?
Jeans, sexy top, heels, magical cloak with power of Bowing to Inevitability. I bet Highway to Spells has one in your size.
I wasn’t sure if the sound that bubbled up in my throat was a laugh or a scoff. I tossed my phone on the bed.
Lupine had always been convinced that the guys and I belonged together. We’d gone to Stone Hill high school together for a few years, and she and I had quickly become best friends. The guys were around in those days…dating other girls…but we’d always chatted, especially when I went over to the orphanage to visit with Lupine.
Even though I was lucky to live with my grandfather, it had been nice to spend time with other orphans. Lupine and the guys understood that I always missed people I barely knew.
As much as I appreciated my grandfather’s ordered-in catering on the holidays, which we ate at the coffee table watching the Thanksgiving parade or a marathon of Christmas movies, I always wished for a house that was full of voices and laughter. Full of people. My people.
Maybe that was why the guys didn’t even seem to notice, or care, that I acted prickly. Maybe they felt that same constant ache, but they coped with it better than I did.
I sorted through my bag until I found a black tank top edged with lace. Dark wash jeans. Simple black leather pumps with a deadly heel.
I couldn’t make any promises about the cloak, though.
As I waited for Archer to pick me up, I read a few more chapters of Love Blooms.
The princess was on her way toward a happy ending, I could just feel it.
12
Archer
As I walked up the front walk to Lily’s house, her grandfather rocked slowly back and forth in one of the chairs on the spreading front porch.
“Hey there, young man,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. One of his arms was casted, in a sling. He was rakishly dressed, with a full head of white hair. I wondered if Lily had tied the bow tie for him or if it was a clip-on. I wouldn’t judge.
“Evening.” I shook his hand.
“You’re here to take Lily on a tour of Silver Springs.” He made air quotes with one hand. “Even though she was born in town.”
“Things have changed a bit.”
“Mm.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I wonder how much you’ve changed.”
“What?” Did he mean that Lily didn’t like me before, but she might like me now? I wondered how much she talked to him about my brothers and me.
Just then, Lily rushed out the front door. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, her parted lips glossy and coral-pink, and my heart lifted at the sight of her. I couldn’t help the smile that sprang to my lips.
Just as she stumbled in the entryway.
“What’s the rush, Lil?” Her grandfather asked, his voice amused.
I caught Lily around the waist, steadying her, before I realized she didn’t need my help. She’d already recovered. She looked up at me, her eyes wide. My hands gripped her narrow waist, and I dropped my hands as if she were made out of hot potato.
But she was not at all potato.
She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, always, with her spiraling strawberry blond curls and her heart-shaped face. But right now, in that tank top that showed off her curves, I realized she’d grown up while she was away from Silver Springs.
The two of us gawked at each other, and I wondered what she was thinking as her gaze raked over my body, then she jerked her eyes back up to my face.
Belatedly, as if she’d just registered his words, she said, “I was worried what you were saying to Archer. You’re questionable, old man.”
He scoffed at that, but he couldn’t actually deny it.
“Ready to go?” I asked, my voice coming out husky, and I cleared my throat.
She nodded. Carefully not touching, the two of us headed down the walk. I was keenly aware of her grandfather watching us go.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“I could eat,” she said.
The two of us walked past the park where we used to play. A couple of kids from the orphanage were on the swings, and I waved to them. Evangeline ran over to give me a hug, and I scooped her up for a big hug.
“Gum?” she asked hopefully. “Please?”
“Lupine would kill me,” I said, but her eyes twinkled as if she knew I was a sucker. I fished in my pocket and handed her a pack of gum—I always carried gum, but rarely chewed it, thanks to these kids—and made a shushing motion with a finger to my lips.
She pretended to zip her lips, and then she ran back to her knot of friends, already yelling, “I’ve got gum!”
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Please tell your best friend not to hurt me. I’ve promised her not to give the kids candy roughly eight-hundred-seventy-six times now.”
“You’re a sof
tie, huh?” she asked, bumping her shoulder against mine as she smiled up at me.
It was just a joking, playful touch. But her skin brushing against mine sent sparks skittering across my skin, and that smile made my heart squeeze in my chest.
“Little bit,” I admitted.
She had no idea.
13
Lily
We stopped in Jewels Café for drinks to carry with us as we did some window shopping on our way to dinner.
“What should I get?” I mused as I looked at the menu. The café hadn’t been here when I was growing up—when I was too young and well-rested to yet appreciate coffee—but I was glad there was a coffee shop now. Silver Springs used to have to depend on the gas station for their coffee-to-go needs.
And best of all, Jewels Cafe was run by an old friend. I was excited for her; I knew how much Amber loved this place.
It had to be Julian glanced at us over the counter. “There’s the pumpkin spice latte that’s always popular—”
“It’s summer time,” Archer said hastily. “Pumpkin’s not in season.”
“If it’s delicious, it’s always in season,” Julian said.
Archer shook his head, giving me a wide-eyed look that made me smile and left me curious at the same time. I wasn’t sure what he had against pumpkin spice lattes, but if the man had a deep aversion to gourds, I could honor that.
“Is there a name for being afraid of pumpkins?” I mused. “Like arachnophobia? Gourdaphobia?”
“I do not have gourdaphobia,” Archer said.
“Sounds like it,” Julian contributed helpfully from behind the counter. I flashed him a smile, and he grinned back at me.
“Want to pick something for me?” I asked Julian. I’d never ask that in a normal coffee shop, where it would put the barista on the spot. But Julian was different.
Amber came in then, the bells ringing above the door. Her eyes widened when she saw me.
“Oh, Lily!” she said, squeezing me in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too.” I hugged her back, realizing it was true, even though we’d grown apart since our summers at sleepaway camp together when we were kids. We’d stayed in touch, though—enough that I’d heard about the amazing Julian and the rest of her men. “I’m so glad you came to Silver Springs!”
“Are you staying?” she asked, holding me at arm’s length, gripping my shoulders. “Or is this just a visit?”
I could’ve sworn Archer went very still, waiting for my answer.
“I don’t know,” I said.
Two days ago, I’d been sure I’d be headed back to the city ASAP.
“But no matter what, I’ve got to go back and move my stuff,” I said, pulling a face. “My ex-boyfriend is a jerk. He’s probably defiling everything I own right now. Gluing my books shut. Cutting holes in my leggings. Rubbing his quite-possibly-diseased dick on my coffee mug collection.”
If he wasn’t terrified of me, that was. But I couldn’t tell anyone I’d tigered out on him. Shifting in front of any human was a definite no-no. Silver Springs was warded so humans didn’t see the paranormal elements that surrounded them, but once they were clued in, they could see the magic.
And there were good reasons for keeping Silver Springs a secret. Humans, as a general rule, do not love what’s different from them.
“Do you need backup?” Amber asked me seriously. “Say the word. I bet Sapphire, Rose and Lupine would be in too. We’ll round up some of our guys and we’ll get you all packed up and moved out.”
Sudden, unexpected tears stung my eyes.
“Oh Lily,” Amber said, and she crushed me in a hug.
I didn’t even know what to say; I was being so weird that I suddenly started laughing. I wasn’t sad exactly; it just felt so nice being home. Surrounded by people who were kind—maybe even people who cared about me. I hadn’t been prepared for that.
“I’m ridiculous.” I pulled away from her, dotting under my eyes with the heel of my hands and hoping I wasn’t smearing my makeup everywhere. Poor Archer was wide-eyed; he wasn’t prepared to deal with crying girls at the best of times.
“No, you’re not.” Amber said, holding out her hand to Julian, who tossed her a box of tissues. The two of them seemed perfectly in sync.
“We’ll get your stuff back,” Archer promised me. Typical man—he seized on the one solid thing he could put on his to-do list to make me feel better. “Blake and Dylan and I take Sundays off. Is that soon enough?”
“You don’t need to spend your day off with me too,” I said. “Jeez, you poor guys.”
Amber looked between the two of us skeptically, as if she knew something I didn’t.
Julian set two drinks on the counter. “There you go. Two unicorn hot chocolates.”
Archer made a face, and Julian gave him a stern look. “Don’t even play, man. I know how much you love hot chocolate, even if you pretend to be drinking plain black coffee.”
“You caught me,” Archer said, handing me one of the cups and taking a sip himself. “But I thought we had barista/client privilege and you were going to keep my secrets.”
While Archer was distracted, Amber leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I heard you’re working at Hot Wheels now. Good luck with those boys, Lily.”
“I’ll need it,” I said, lifting my to-go cup in a salute. Blake as a boss might drive me insane, and Dylan was distractingly sexy, and Archer was so quiet that he left me babbling. I wasn’t sure I could handle working with the three of them.
Amber just winked.
Once again, I had to wonder what everyone else seemed to know when they looked at these guys and me.
14
Archer
“It’s karaoke night at Vee,” I told Lily, curious to see how she reacted, and her eyes lit up.
Then, just as quickly, those beautiful eyes shuttered. I wondered what the hell was going on.
The more time I spent with her, the more I saw what Blake meant about a kicked dog. She was still full of life and that sharp wit we all loved, but there was something going on—a cloud hanging over her, soaking up some of the sunshine she’d always radiated.
“Do you think someone put a curse on you?” I asked, as abruptly as the idea occurred to me.
She frowned, turning to face me. We stopped in front of Beastie Besties; I’d steered Lily across the street so we didn’t have to walk right past Black Moon Magick. Something about that place gave me the creeps.
“That doesn’t happen in the real world,” she said, gesturing with her cup for emphasis. “People don’t go around putting spells on each other anywhere but Silver Springs.”
Thankfully, none of her cocoa spilled out of her cup, no matter how much she talked with her hands. That unicorn hot cocoa was really delicious, even though I would’ve denied my love for it.
“Sometimes it happens by accident,” I said. “That’s why I recommended against the pumpkin spice latte.”
“I wondered why you were so scared of pumpkins.”
“I’m not scared of pumpkins!” I filled her in on the backstory of the pumpkin spiced lattes and Jewels Café, and her eyes widened.
She held her cup out at arm’s reach. “Do you think the unicorn hot cocoa is okay? Or am I going to…”
She trailed off, eying me, and I wondered what she was thinking. Heat seemed to crackle between us, and I studied her lips as they parted, her wide eyes as they grew heavy-lidded.
She yanked her gaze away hastily and cleared her throat, clutching her drink to her chest.
“For sure.” I took another sip of the berry-flavored chocolate, pretending I was just fine. Completely unaffected. Even though her gaze sweeping over my body and the hungry way she’d looked at me—just for a few seconds—left me suddenly hard.
“Things have felt weird lately,” she said carefully. “Do you know what I mean?”
I shook my head. The attraction between us might be weird for her, but it was what I’d felt since we were
both gawky teenagers.
“Oh,” she said. “Okay.”
She flashed me a smile, that heartbreaking wide smile that transformed her face.
“Tell me what’s weird,” I pressed, but she just shook her head.
“Are you going to show me Vee’s?” she asked, and I had a feeling she was desperately changing the subject.
But I missed her voice, and the thought of her letting loose on stage and singing like I used to hear from her all the time…it made my heart beat faster.
“Let’s go,” I said. I would’ve offered her my arm, if she’d been any other girl, but I didn’t want to, well, make things weird.
But for me, things had felt weird—in a heart-fluttery way—since Lily and I were thirteen. I didn’t think that kind of weird was ever going away.
The bouncer stepped aside for us, and I led her from the sunny day outside into the pleasant darkness of Vee. Booths on each side had heavy red velvet privacy curtains, and as I imagined kissing Lily in there, my cock was suddenly painfully hard again. But I wanted us to have a good view of the stage, where two sisters were singing a duet—one more successfully than the other—so I pulled out a chair for her at one of the tables near the front.
We ordered drinks. With the karaoke, it was too loud to talk much except in between songs, but that was fine with me. I’ve never been a smooth one with words. Instead, I watched her rapturous, smiling face under the changing lights. Pink-tinged Lily. Yellow-tinged Lily. Green-tinged Lily. I adored them all.
I nudged her beneath the table, and she glanced at me.
“You should go sing,” I shouted over the music.
She scoffed at that. “You should go sing.”
“I’m tone deaf and a terrible singer,” I reminded her. “As you informed me during sixth grade music class.”
She pulled a face. “Young Lily had a big mouth.”
“Young Archer didn’t mind since she was right, but if you feel guilty now, you can make it up for me with a song.”
She shook her head at me, although she was smiling. “Isn’t it bad enough that Blake is so bossy? Is it contagious?”