Fake Dating a Witch

Chapter 10

SIRONA

Grant has a great butt. Like, a superb, amazing, truly spectacular ass. Firm, round cheeks that I have regrettably not fondled or squeezed. I fully intend to change that tonight.

Currently, I have a delicious view of his ass as he hikes up the trail in front of me. Every step he takes, the fabric of his shorts pulls tight and my mouth waters a little.

It”s a gorgeous evening, absolutely perfect early summer weather. Well, technically late spring, since it”s not Solstice until next week, but June still feels like summer. We”re hiking through the forest out to the campsite my family has been visiting for decades. It”s in a state park and we could drive, but it”s always so much nicer to hike. It”s only about five miles.

Grant is more relaxed than I”ve ever seen him. And that includes high school. He”s looking around and grinning, occasionally throwing one of those smiles over his shoulder at me and making my pulse race more than is warranted by the easy trek. He”s clearly in his element out here in the woods, pointing out different birds or plants to me. I know them all too, but I don”t want to dampen his enthusiasm, so I go along.

And, of course, there”s his adorable butt moving up the trail in front of me.

Honey and Evan left about a half hour before us, so they”re probably already setting up the campsite. While I”m closer to Evan, since we were all in the same class in school, Honey and Evan are pretty good friends too. Though she doesn”t know about his unrequited love for my little sister. No one but me does.

Morgan and Bronwen are somewhere behind us. They hadn”t finished packing when Grant and I left, but they shouldn”t be too far behind.

Still, it”s nice to be alone with Grant after barely seeing him all week. It’s always busy this time of year, with preparing for the Solstice Festival the company hosts every year. It”s why our annual camping trip is always this weekend; we need a break in the middle of the chaos of getting ready.

So since our dinner where we agreed we would let things unfold as they may, I”ve barely seen him. He came to Sunday dinner last week, but we didn”t get much chance to talk since everything was about the Solstice Festival. Other than that, we had coffee before work on Wednesday. And that”s all I”ve seen him.

I”m desperate to do a little making out when we get a chance. To say I”ve been fantasizing about being alone with him in our tent would be an understatement. Fantasizing about, dreaming about, getting off while thinking about… All of those would be accurate.

My eye catches on a snake resting at the base of a large maple tree. In a teasing voice, since he”s been doing it the entire hike, I say, ”Look, there”s a grass snake.”

He startles like a ghost just slithered up his spine, jumps to the opposite side of the trail, grabs my shoulders, and shoves me in front of him.

What in the?—?

”You OK back there?” I ask over my shoulder.

”Snake.” He sounds like he”s being strangled. His fingers dig into my muscles hard enough it”s uncomfortable.

I fight a smile. It would be really rude to laugh at his fear.

”Do you have a snake phobia?”

His face drops to my hiking backpack, making it tug at my shoulders. ”Yes,” he mumbles. ”I am deathly terrified of the things. It”s ridiculous, I know. But...”

”But that”s why it”s a phobia. It doesn”t make sense.” I pat his hand. ”Do you want me to scare it off?”

”Yes, please,” he whispers.

As much as I love his touch, this is definitely not how I want it. ”You have to let go of me first.”

”Right. Sorry.” He lifts his head and drops his hands.

I step off the path and take a few steps toward the tree and the snake. The creature lifts its head and looks at me, then turns and slithers away.

”All gone,” I tell Grant as I make my way back to him.

He”s got his eyes closed. ”Thank you.” He pulls in a deep breath, puffing out his chest, then lets it go in a huff. He opens his eyes. ”OK, let”s keep moving.”

With another huffed breath, he turns and continues on the trail. I follow, trying to think of something to say that will cut the tension I feel like a bubble around us. I don”t need supernatural senses to know he”s still stressed.

”You know, snakes are a symbol of good health. That”s why they use it on the medical symbol.”

”Yeah?”

”Yep. So maybe it”s a good sign we came across one.”

He chuckles dryly. ”My still-racing pulse doesn”t feel like it”s a good sign, but I”ll take your word for it.”

I want to stop him and hug him. Comfort him in some way. But it doesn”t feel like we”re at a place yet in our relationship where I can do that. And given the circumstances, we probably never will be.

A pang of sadness tugs at my chest. Somewhere deep down, I know we could have something really good. Maybe even real love. But we have an expiration date, so that can”t happen.

I hold in a sigh. A familiar cluster of pines catches my eye. ”We”re almost there.”

He nods, then says, ”It was because of a snake.” He lifts his right hand and waves it around.

”Your accident?” I don”t want to say too much. I have a feeling he doesn”t share this story with many people. And I want him to keep sharing with me.

”Yeah. We were careening down this steep trail, and I just happened to glance to the side and saw one slithering along the rocks. And I panicked. Freaked the fuck out, lost control of my bike, went head over handlebars, and...” He waves his hand again. ”You know the rest.”

”I”m so sorry.”

He shrugs under his heavy pack. ”My own stupid fault. Over a completely useless phobia.”

I don”t know what to say to that, so I just hum a sound to confirm I heard him.

After a few minutes of silence between us, just the sounds of the forest around us, another snake thought occurs to me.

”Snakes are also a symbol of change and rebirth.” He probably doesn”t care, or thinks it”s silly. Just because he”s lived around witches most of his life doesn”t mean he believes in signs the way we do.

”Well, that snake in Colorado sure did bring on a metric fuck ton of change in my life. So does this one symbolize change as in my hand gets better so I can go back to work?”

There”s that tugging sadness again. I don”t want him to want to stay in Owl Cove and be with me. I”m well aware of where we stand.

But maybe a small part of me does want that.

”I don”t know,” I tell him as we crest a hill, and the campground comes into view. ”Just change.”

GRANT

I gotta admit, that first night a few weeks ago—was it really only a few weeks?—when I saw Sirona and Evan together at Brewitches, I was pretty disappointed. I thought they were together. And even though at that point I had no intention of starting anything with her, I still sorta didn”t like the idea of her with someone else.

Which might make me an asshole, but I can”t help that.

Now, seeing her with him, around her sisters and her cousin, it”s clear he”s part of the family. She interacts with him the way she would a brother. And I shouldn”t care, but it”s a relief. I have no real claim to her, not for more than a few weeks.

And I like Sirona. I want happiness for her. But I”m still glad she”s not with Evan.

Besides, it”s beyond obvious that he”s into Bronwen. Even I notice the way he keeps looking at her. Not just like he wants to drag her into a tent and have his way with her, but like he wants to just sit by the fire and hold her. Snuggle her.

If I notice that, it must be obvious to everyone. But Bronwen seems oblivious.

It”s comforting to watch Sirona with her family. Out here in the woods, they”re more relaxed than they are at Sunday dinner. Probably helps that their moms and grandma aren”t here. And apparently pets—familiars, they call them—don”t come on camping trips. It”s hard to imagine a cat enjoying this trip. It”s possible Morgan”s owl is around, just because owls like forests. I think. Bronwen”s goat is definitely not here. And I haven”t actually been introduced to Honey”s familiar, but there are no spare animals around, so I”m guessing she left it at home.

”How”s Koko faring without you?” I ask Sirona. I”m sitting on a log, and she”s on the ground in front of me, between my spread knees. I”ve been playing idly with her hair and yeah, it”s partly for show. To keep up our story. But I also really like playing with the soft strands. They”re like silk over my fingers. The fingers that can feel them, at least.

She shrugs. ”We can”t talk from this far apart.”

That”s got to be a relief. Koko seems like the sort of personality who would interrupt Sirona all day at work if they could communicate when apart.

”But she”s usually fine without me. Cats are pretty independent.”

”Wasn”t sure if witch familiar cats were different.”

She turns and smiles up at me. ”My last cat, before Koko, was way more needy. She died when I was fifteen, and we didn”t go on these camping trips back then. But she would get despondent just when I stayed overnight at Honey”s or something.”

”Remember when we went on the school trip to DC, and she drove your mom absolutely batshit for the week?” Honey laughs.

”In her defense, that wasn”t long before she died. She was a grumpy old lady by then.” There”s humor in Sirona”s voice as she responds.

”She was a grumpy old lady when we were little,” Morgan says. She”s sitting cross-legged in front of the fire pit, getting it going.

The sun is starting to set, and out here in the woods with the cover of trees, the light is fading. And my stomach reminds me it”s nearing dinner time.

”She was grumpy as fuck,” Evan agrees.

”Yeah, she hated you.” Bronwen laughs, then turns to me. ”She attacked him every time he came over.”

”We were definitely not friends,” Evan says. ”I like Koko a lot more.”

I haven”t made up my mind about Koko. She seems fine, but I still haven”t fully wrapped my head around the idea of a cat that can communicate with people. Or at least one person.

”Bowie is around somewhere, if anyone needs anything,” Morgan says, referring to her owl. Confirming my suspicion that the bird might have joined us.

Are owls birds? Or some other type of animal? I honestly don”t know.

”Leon didn”t feel like making the trip,” Honey says.

”And Leon is...” I say. Obviously her familiar, but I”m wondering what animal.

”My brown bear.”

”Leon the bear. Sure.” Why not? If I”ve learned nothing else hanging out with a family of witches the past few weeks, it”s that nothing is weird.

Honey grins. ”He”s blond too. Did you know brown bears come in several colors?”

”I did not.”

”See, our family is educational, too.” Sirona pats my knee.

Conversation moves on and Morgan gets the fire started. The easy affection between all of them makes me sort of miss my friends in Chicago.

Except, if I really think about it, we don”t have affection exactly. Shared circumstances, shared understanding. We”re all surgical residents, and I”d say I”m friends with a few of the faculty surgeons. But now I”ll be a year behind my residency class. With a whole new group of surgeons, some of whom I do know, but it won”t be the same. A lot of my friends will finish residency at the end of the month; I”m getting back just in time for their graduation. I know Leslie, the doc I”ve gotten closest to since we went to the same medical school too, has taken a fellowship at our hospital. So at least she’s sticking around.

I don”t know anyone in Chicago who isn”t directly connected to the Department of Surgery. And I”ll make new friends. Hell, once I finish my last year of residency, who knows where I”ll go. There”s no guarantee I”ll stay in Chicago. It”s doubtful I”ll be somewhere I can just drive home for a weekend. Less seeing my family. Less seeing Tyler.

Less seeing Sirona. Even if we won”t keep something going when I leave, I want to see her when I”m back in town. Whatever else happens, I consider her a friend now.

There”s an ache in my chest with these thoughts. I”ve fucking missed my family and Tyler so much since I left home after high school. Tyler and I were roommates all through undergrad at Northwestern, but then he came back here and I stayed in Chicago for med school.

Even Leslie, my best friend in the city, isn”t as close to me as Tyler. Or my sister Kelsey. And Sirona is very quickly moving up to that ranking as well. But I can”t remember the last time I texted Les. I”d have to check my phone. It”s been at least a week.

Whereas Tyler and I don”t go a day without some kind of communication, even if it”s just him sending me a meme and me replying with the ”haha” response.

I”ve never had the kind of easy, relaxed affection with my Chicago group as I”m seeing around me now. And I”m a part of if I”d get out of my head.

I don”t like this place in my head. Or the nagging ache in my chest.

Is this what loneliness feels like?

I make myself focus on the feel of Sirona”s hair and shoulder under my good hand. She”s solid and real. And here. I don”t need to think about being lonely right now.

She turns and looks up at me with a quizzical expression. Like she can tell I”ve been lost in uncomfortable thoughts. ”You doin” OK?”

I make myself smile. Focusing on her beautiful eyes helps make it more genuine. ”Yeah.”

”Did you hear Morgan?”

Shit, was I that zoned out? ”No, sorry.”

”She asked if you”d like to help her cook dinner.” Her eyes dart to my injured hand, resting on my knee. ”Do you think you”d be able to?”

I remember my fumbling attempt to cut hot dogs for Aileen, then picture dropping all the food into the fire when I inevitably can”t quite do what Morgan asks me to.

Fucking hand.

”Probably not,” I mumble, frustration a sharp burr in my throat.

She presses a kiss to the side of my knee. Like she knows I need soothing.

An inappropriate and ill-timed jolt of lust hits me. I picture the ways she could soothe me, using her hand or her mouth. My cock stirs and my balls feel heavy. Can we skip dinner, so I can drag her into the tent right now?

And again, like she knows what I”m thinking, her smile turns wicked. It”s subtle, a shift in her gaze. ”Maybe I can take your mind off it later.”

”Oh, gross, you two. Get a tent,” Morgan calls from where she”s sticking hot dogs onto sticks.

Sirona chuckles and turns back around to face her sisters. And because I want to, because it feels natural, not because of anything we”re trying to convince the group of anything, I bend down and press a kiss to the top of her head. Her hair against my lips soothes me enough for the moment.

”You”re just jealous,” I tease Morgan. I”ve gotten to know her and Bronwen well enough in the past few weeks to be at a teasing level.

Morgan rolls her eyes. ”Yeah, no. Even once this curse is done, I don”t need anyone else. I”m happy with things; just me and my ghosts.”

Bronwen snorts.

Sirona shakes her head subtly and Honey gives her a sad look. Evan”s half zoned out, watching Bronwen.

”You need more in life than talking to spirits for other people,” Honey says. She joins Morgan next to the fire, snaps her fingers, and there”s a plate of sliced vegetables in her hand.

Wow. That”s pretty cool. I want to ask why not just conjure cooked vegetables, but I also don”t want to interrupt the ongoing conversation.

”Not talking about it,” Morgan says firmly, gaze fixed on the hot dogs she”s now holding over the fire.

Again, the conversation moves on. And the longer we talk and laugh and just hang out, the more I”m certain I need to build something like this in Chicago. Or wherever I end up after that.

I can”t be so alone anymore.