by Sariah Skye
“I understand,” I said quickly, with a frown.
“Why not tell her?” The reflection asked.
“I’m…not sure how she’d react,” I replied, ashamed. “She’s already been betrayed by her mother. This might just be what does her in.”
The reflection sighed. “I understand the hesitation, it’s just rather…inconvenient. The kingdom grows impatient.”
“I know. Just…give me time. We’re training and she’s making progress,” I explained.
“Good.” The reflection blacked out, before blurrily coming into view once more. “You should hurry. Before long, all prospects of rebuilding will be for naught. There isn’t much more time left.”
“I understand.” I said, as the person in the reflection opened his mouth to speak again, before he disappeared altogether. The connection was lost.
I sighed, watching my past fade away once again. Like a distant memory. So close, yet…so far.
Soon, everything would come together. I only hoped Ava didn’t completely hate me when it did.
Chapter Four
“Seriously, are you okay?” Mathias questioned me, about two miles into our drive to the Fox Hollow coffee house in the populated city of St. Michael; it was the closest city to Wild Township. It was a smaller town, but not without its conveniences. He glanced over at me as he drove.
“Totally fine,” I said through gritted teeth, attempting to sound more jovial than what I felt. Being in such close quarters with Mathias and inhaling his signature scent of spice and ancient earth, and stealing glances of the attractive, enormous man next to me was driving me to madness. His business attire was fitted and flattering; Mathias was sure proof that a man could be exceedingly delicious and still fully clothed. The magic that was coursing through me tingled pleasantly in spots and tensed me stressfully in others. My legs were tightly crossed over each other as I leaned against the glass of the window, air conditioning vent pointed full-blast on me.
Mathias grumbled quietly but didn’t inquire further. “If it’s about the magic last night; Trystan said he was fine.”
I frowned. “Oh, he told you. Great.”
Sighing, Mathias turned to glance at me with concern, briefly. “What’s wrong? You can tell me, really. The magic stuff? We’ll figure it out.” He reached a hand out, setting it on my bare knee. It was supposed to be comforting, but all I could think of was how close his hand was to where I was…stressed…the most. All he had to do was slide it up just a bit more, and slide one of the long fingers under the band of my shorts, and—
Feeling a hot shudder pulse down my neck, and take residence between my legs, I quickly shoved his hand away. “Don’t do that!”
I immediately felt guilty, as he quickly gripped the steering wheel, looking like a wounded puppy.
“It’s just—uhh—” I began, trying to think of an excuse. It’s just you can’t even touch me, because if you do, I might become so damn aroused I explode again. And not in the good way! “It’s girl stuff. PMS…you know,” I lied, wrinkling my nose for effect.
“Oh. Oh!” Mathias’ grip loosened from the wheel, and he let out a relieved sigh.
I heard the noisy rumbling of Bash’s motorcycle behind us, and I looked at him from the visor mirror. He opted for a black bandanna again, aviator glasses, and trademark black leather jacket over his grease-stained tee. Immediately my mind started to wander back to that day we cavorted on his motorcycle…and all the times in my head we finished the deed.
Stop…thinking…about…it!
I was so relieved when we finally pulled into the parking lot; Summer’s black Jeep was parked outside the front entrance. Mathias pulled into park, and feeling panicked, I grabbed for the door handle the second we stopped.
“Ava?” Mathias called after me as I flung myself out the door, barely remembering to grab my purse.
“Bathroom!” I announced, frantically pointing for the glass door. I yanked it open and let myself in, Mathias hot on my heels.
I felt a hand on my shoulder as he followed me into the dimly-lit coffeehouse. “Avie?” His voice was brimmed with worry and concern.
I heaved a long sigh. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I turned to him. His face was furrowed. “I’m sorry. Girl stuff, you know? Not sure if I can make it.” I chuckled lightly. I didn’t really want to tell him that being that close to him, and not able to jump him? Torture.
He frowned. “I’m sorry. Must… suck.”
Bash’s motorbike engine roared outside and cut out. The door opened once more, and in waltzed the leather-clad, geeky biker. He stood in the doorway, and peeled off his sunglasses and bandanna, shoving them into an inner pocket of his jacket.
“Will you be okay?” Mathias asked quietly, clutching one of my hands, bringing it to his lips. He placed a sweet kiss on the top of my hand and kept it there as he expectantly waited my answer.
I swooned, my heart fluttered gently in my chest. “I’m fine, promise.”
Mathias smiled in reply. “Good. I’ll see you tonight?”
I nodded. “Tonight.”
He grinned and kissed my hand once again as Bash came up beside us. He went through the motion of officially handing my hand off to Bash. Mathias clasped him on the shoulder once and Bash acknowledged him with a nod, before he left the coffee house.
Bash lifted a brow expectantly. “Everything okay?”
I rolled my eyes, with a groan. “Yes. Just ah, girl stuff. Mathias doesn’t get it.”
Bash snorted. “Well, it has been a long time you know…”
I chuckled. “Since he had to worry about periods?”
He lightly punched my shoulder. “Stop!”
“I just need to—” I pointed across the lobby for a wooden door, indicating the bathroom. “Summer’s car is out front, but I haven’t seen her yet.”
“Right. Well I’ll just—” he motioned to the counter, set in the middle of the lobby. A glass case containing muffins and other pastries separated the prep area from the comfy lobby. A single woman manned the counter, her back towards the lobby as she tended to something on a counter.
I nodded at him and made my way through the maze of tables, chairs, and plush sofas to the restroom. I tried the handle, and it was unlocked.
“What the—” Summer’s voice inquired angrily, but when she saw it was me her attitude vanished. “It’s about time! I was just texting you!” She shoved her phone back in her black leather handbag and slid the handle up her arm to rest on her shoulder.
I pushed in the metal lock on the handle and tossed myself against the wooden door. Finally away from the guys, I let out a tense breath.
“Girl. You okay?” Summer asked, eyeing me. “You’re all flushed. Did you…” She waggled her eyebrows and made a suggestive motion with her hand.
I chortled sharply. “I wish!”
Summer’s mouth dropped open. “You mean…you haven’t fucked any of them yet!? Are you insane!?”
“Possibly,” I agreed, with a snicker.
Summer leaned against the sink, but she stepped aside when I stumbled over to it. I turned the faucet on cold and cupped my hands under the stream. I knew it would wash off my makeup, but I didn’t care. I splashed my face a good five times with the chilly water, dabbing it specifically on my heated cheeks.
“But—why haven’t you? Your dad basically told you to, right?” She asked, confused. “How can you be holed up in a house with all those penises, and not have boinked at least one of them by now? Didn’t your dad even say it was good for your magic?”
I shut the faucet off, looking up at her through the water that collected in my eyes. She handed me a wad of paper towels and I used them to dab at my face. The cool water was calming, and along with gentle breaths, I was almost feeling more normal. Almost.
“He did say that. But…” I felt the blush prick my cheeks again, ashamed to confess.
“What?” Summer prompted.
“I’m… scared.” I said, my voice
small.
“Scared?”
“All this… magic.” I motioned my hands over me. “I just feels weird, and it gets worse whenever I touch the boys.”
Summer scoffed. “So? That’s just being horny, Ava!”
“Maybe,” I said, somewhat unconvinced. “But…it’s not that simple.”
Summer crossed her arms over her chest, rumpling her white, graphic tee. “What isn’t?”
“I—” I began but I interrupted myself. I bit my lip. “I’ve shocked them, and just about knocked Trystan out yesterday.” I sighed. “Every time I get close…this magic flows through me. It’s intense. It feels good sometimes, but it’s strong. And then it gets…out of control.”
“I don’t really think you could hurt them. They’re all like big, huge, testosterone-filled mountains.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know how you deal with it. Must be dripping off the walls. No wonder you’re going insane.” Summer reached into her purse and pulled out a makeup bag. She motioned for me to sit on the toilet while she re-did the makeup job I just wiped off. “Now sit down, let me put you back together again, huh?”
I obliged, grinning up at her. “Thanks, Sum.”
“That’s what friends are for, right?” She pulled out a compact and a brush and started working. “Seriously though, you just need to talk to them; tell them what’s up. Maybe they can help you. And not just by gang-banging you and giving you mind-blowing orgasms,” she said, winking one of her brown eyes.
I groaned, not allowing myself to think it. “Not helping!”
She chuckled. “Honestly I don’t think there is anything you can say or so that would piss them off. They’re obviously into you so just relax.”
I shrugged, unconvinced. “Maybe, but…”
Not realizing I had turned away, Summer moved my chin back up with a firm hand. “Stop it. They are. Just talk to them!”
I knew she was right. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier.
I did feel better after our bathroom interlude. Summer fixed my makeup and even though I was dressed like a bum, with my skin clearer and eyes made up, I felt like a hot mess instead of just a mess. Well maybe not a hot mess…maybe more of a lukewarm mess.
We emerged from the restroom about fifteen minutes later and noticed that the small coffeehouse had become considerably busier. When I checked my phone, I noticed it was closer to noon, and people were coming in for lunch. The small lobby was painted in a soothing rust red, with an earthy tiled floor, and mismatched furniture set about the lobby. Several pendant chandeliers hung from the exposed-duct work ceiling (all painted in a cream white), and a mural of a happy, smiling fox in a forest, drinking a cup of coffee adorned the opposite wall.
That was normal. I’d been here with Summer a handful of times since we both “moved” out of the same house, as St. Michael marked the halfway point between Wild Township, and Summer’s work.
What wasn’t normal was the crowd of women surrounding a certain blond hottie that came in with me.
I narrowed my eyes. Bash was seated in a green, plush chair against the window, his phone in one hand, and a mug of coffee in the other. One woman—and I use that term loosely because she couldn’t have been more than eighteen—sat on the red chair nearby; only a small, black table between them. She leaned over said table, her decently-sized breasts laid out in full view, almost submerged in her salad, and gawked at him openly.
I gasped. “That’s my thing!”
Summer appeared confused, until I pointed at the young woman. She gasped. “Tit salad—that’s your thing!”
“I know!” I protested.
Another woman nearby with salt and pepper hair, probably in her mid-forties, sat a handful of feet away at a table. Her laptop was open, fingers poised over the keyboard, but she wasn’t paying any attention to it. No, she was ogling my guy from across the room.
My eyes narrowed a bit more as I glared between her, and the young whippersnapper with the salad boobs in the chair.
To make matters worse, the woman from behind the counter walked up to him with a sexy swagger, and asked him if he wanted any more coffee. Her hand brushed over her bare neck—she sported a trendy, brunette pixie—and lowered slowly to the hint of cleavage that poked out of her white, button up blouse.
Summer nudged me. “You’re growling, Avie.”
I felt a rumble from the back of my throat. Sure enough, I was.
“Down, girl!” Summer retorted.
I stalked across the lobby, right in the view of cougar-face, and boob-salad girl. Bash had been studiously ignoring the three various women but looked up from his phone as I stood before him.
He grinned, setting the drink down as he noticed me, hands on hips, motioning to the wanton bitches around him.
Bash opened up his hands. “What? I can’t help it!”
I snarled. Booby-salad girl had yet to notice me, so I lowered myself onto Bash’s lap much to his surprise. “Hey there,” he said, beaming with surprise.
“Hi,” I purred, winking at him. I turned and glared pointedly at the young girl across from us. I perched on one of Bash’s thighs as I leaned over the table. “Mine look better in a salad.”
She winced, her gaze not quite focusing on me. “Huh?”
Summer joined us. She stood in front of Booby-salad, hip crooked outward with attitude. “You’re in my spot.”
Booby-salad glanced up. Generally, Summer was a very pleasant person. But when she was angry, you didn’t want to be on the other end of her Latina ire. It was better just to get up and walk away. And the girl did just that, a look of fear on her young face. She grabbed her salad and her drink and scampered away to the other side of the lobby.
“Damn straight,” I said, titling my chin upward.
“What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining,” Bash said, his eyes growing heavy as he shifted me on his lap. Feeling secure, I nestled into him. His leather jacket was slung over the back of the chair, and though several faded grease spots remained on his arms, I didn’t care. I snaked an arm around his neck, placing the other on his chest. The expression on his face was clearly pleased.
Summer sat across from us, giving me a look. She motioned to me, then at Bash’s big smile when I realized her look clearly meant, “See?”
I didn’t know what she meant.
The waitress meandered through the lobby, her gaze focused specifically on Bash. “Can I get you something else?” she asked once again.
Bash glanced at her with indifference. “Nothing for me still, but my girl here would like a latte. Is that right?”
“Mocha latte,” I replied, grinning sweetly at her.
“A—latte?” She glanced in my direction, but her eyes went right through me. She paid attention only to Bash.
“Mocha latte,” he corrected.
“Sure.” She paused, looking over him with confusion. “Didn’t you have a black coffee before?”
Bash rolled his eyes. “It’s for my girl. Do you not see her, here?” He snapped his fingers in front of her.
She blinked. Finally, after a confused moment, her gaze finally landed on me. “Oh! I thought you were with the other one? The gorgeous body builder?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yep.”
“But… you’re with him now,” she said, pointing at Bash.
“Yep,” I said, grinning with saccharine sweetness at her.
She tried to speak, but nothing came out.
“Jealous, huh?” Summer quipped. “I’ll take a chai, by the way.”
The waitress’s mouth fell open so low, I thought her jaw was going to fall right off her face. “Sure…thing.” She gazed back over her shoulder once, before slowly walking away.
Bash let out a low whistle, followed by a round of laughter. “Wow, you aren’t kidding—you do get ignored!”
I threw up my hands in exasperation. “You see what I mean!?”
Still chuckling, Bash shook his head. “Yeah, I do.”
Summe
r snorted. “You have no idea. This is nothing. For Prom once, I set Avie up here with a male friend of mine…”
I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Oh god…”
“Kellan was his name. Avie had a crush on him for a while, but Kellan could never remember her—”
“—as always,” I said, smiling grimly.
“I showed him our yearbook with Avie’s picture. He’s all ‘Wow, she’s hot! Where has she been?’ I’m like, ‘Dude, she’s gone to our school since Kindergarten!’”
Bash quirked a brow, intrigued. “He seriously didn’t remember you?” he asked. “Like, did you guys have classes together or was it a big school—could he maybe have possibly just not had crossed paths with you?”
I exchanged a glance with Summer, and we both laughed.
“Kellan sat around her for half of school—his last name is Davis! Hers is Dawson. Get the idea?” Summer explained.
“We were always in the same classes, too. Oh yeah, our paths crossed.” I added with a frown.
Bash offered me a sympathetic look. “So, what happened?”
“Summer set everything up, all good to go, and he forgets to pick me up.” My tone was sour at the memory. “Summer and I go to the dance together since we weren’t supposed to have same-sex dates—”
“—so fucking stupid,” Summer interrupted, with a scowl.
“Agreed,” I said, nodding in agreement. “She was going to meet up Cara—her girlfriend at the time,” I pretended not to hear Summer grumble at the thought of her now-ex. “And when we walk in, there was Kellan with Emma Baldwin. He had no recollection of the date.”
Bash scratched his chin thoughtfully. The waitress had returned with a chai for Summer, but walked away before she could hand me my mocha.
I cleared my throat pointedly. “Um, that’s mine.”
The waitress scratched her head, glancing at the large, white mug of coffee in her hand. After a moment of me glaring at her, she finally noticed me. “Oh! Sorry!” With indifference, she set the mug down in the middle of the table and walked away—but not before glancing once again at Bash, running the tip of her tongue over her lips.