Karaoke Chemistry: A Witchy Small Town Romcom (Sacred River Book 2)

10. Magnolia

IBARELY KEEP it together as I pass by Mrs. Hayes, praying to the Universe that the old woman’s sense of smell has dulled over the decades. Can’t do much about Riggs’s office, though, so I send a quick wish for a magnolia-scented breeze to float in and hope for the best.

It’s not until I’m back in my classroom and sinking into my chair, my legs still unsteady from the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had in my life, that it hits me.

I just got finger fucked in the principal’s office.

The heat that spreads through my body is enough to incinerate me. I grab my industrial-size water cup, shove the straw in my mouth, and start taking deep pulls of water. I cannot believe that just happened. One minute I’m thinking I’m in trouble somehow—never mind that it’s impossible, I make a habit of never doing anything to get in trouble—and the next minute, Riggs is calling me Seven and smelling me…and his thumb…and the words out of his mouth…

“I told you that you could have it your way. I didn’t say I wasn’t going to have it my way, too, Seven.”

I cough at the memory, and am whacking my chest and trying to breathe when one of my star students comes in ahead of the bell.

“You okay, Miss Rowan?” she asks, her brow furrowed as she strides over to me.

I wave her off. “I’m…fine,” I wheeze. “Perfectly fine. Thank you.”

She hesitates, and as the coughing fit wanes, she seems to relax.

I wipe the tears from my face and take a deep inhale. When I’m certain I can breathe normally, I smile. “How can I help you?”

Suddenly shy, she looks down and mutters her request. “I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to write me a recommendation letter for my college applications.”

My heart bursts as I press my hands to my chest. “Sunny, I would be delighted to do that.”

She beams. “Thanks. I’m really thinking about botany. Ever since your sister came and presented to the class, I’ve been looking into it, and it sounds perfect.”

Students begin filing into the room, signaling the end of our conversation. “Just get me the info and I’ll make sure it’s handled. Get it to me soon—no dawdling!” I smile.

She returns the smile and takes her seat, and I force myself to focus on my students for the rest of the day.

At exactly 3:38,eight whole minutes after school has let out, Ava comes into my classroom. “First day is over and it is time for margaritas and—” She stops and looks at me, raking her eyes up and down. She points at me. “What happened?”

“Keep your voice down!” I hiss.

Her dark eyes go wide. “What happened?” she repeats, closing the distance between us.

“Margaritas. I’ll tell you over margaritas,” I promise. Because have mercy, I need them.

It doesn’t take long before we’ve packed up and I’m following her behemoth of a Yukon to our favorite Mexican restaurant. There are two in town, but this one is farthest from the school, which definitely helps make it the favorite. It’s also closer to each of our houses, so that’s an added bonus.

We clink our glasses to each other and take a sip. I keep going, needing at least half a glass of the sour drink in me before I can say the words out loud.

Ava’s eyes get wider and wider as I chug. “Jesus, Magnolia, what is going on?”

Finally, I set my glass down. “Riggs called me into his office today.”

She shimmies her shoulders. “Ooh, called into the principal’s office,” she teases.

I raise my eyebrows.

“Wait. Wait. You got called to the principal’s office, or you got called to the principal’s office?” She looks at me suggestively.

My bracelets clink against each other as I take another massive hit of the margarita. “The latter.”

She squeals and bounces up and down in the booth. “Hell yeah girl he is fine tell me everything.” She angles the straw to her mouth and sips, her entire body wiggling.

“God, I’m so glad you’re talking to me again,” I sigh. “There’s still so much to tell you.”

“Yeah, well, it turns out I’m a lot more forgiving with the way my new man is giving me the goods.”

I laugh and tell her everything, going all the way back to the beginning of meeting him at karaoke and finishing with today’s, erm, moment, because the sugar-wrapped tequila has bounded into my veins exactly as I wanted it to, and I am nothing if not an answerer of direct questions.

I am also a lush when it comes to margaritas.

Which maybe I should have thought about before we ordered a pitcher, but too late now.

When I’m finally finished, I’m at the bottom of my second glass and Ava stares at me, trying to make it all make sense. “So you two have flirted for a year, and then you kissed, and then he”—she makes a vaguely inappropriate gesture—“you? In his office?”

“Yes.”

“With Mrs. Fucking Hayes on the other side of the door?”

“Yes.”

“Ho. Ly. Hell.”

I top her glass off and pour more for me. “Pretty much my sentiments exactly.”

“Dude is a kinky motherfucker.”

I suspect there’s way, way more where today came from with him, and the text that buzzes through confirms it.

Riggs

I can still taste you.

“Is that him?” Ava asks.

I smile as a blush stains my cheeks.

She snorts. “Yeah, you keep that shit to yourself. But honey,” she reaches her hand to cover mine, “how are you?”

I slam my drink down, sloshing the margarita onto the table. “I’m. Freaking. Out,” I say, doing some kind of hiss-squeal thing, “and I don’t know what to do!”

“Ah, there she is. I was wondering when Magnolia was going to show up.”

“It’s not just that, Ava! It’s…ugh,” I moan and bury my face in my hands. “What if I hurt him with the singing?” I peek at her through my fingers.

“Oh,” she breathes out, realization dawning. “You like him. Like him like him.”

I take a slurp. “I don’t want to, I swear I don’t, but there’s this spark thing? When we touch? And it’s bad news, because family legend says if there’s a spark when a Rowan woman kisses or touches someone, then that’s it. Poof. That’s your person. So, sure hope you like them.”

“Oh god, what if it would have sparked when you kissed one of the Smith twins!” Still laughing, she suppresses a shudder.

I make a face at her. “Mean.”

She holds her hands up and snorts a laugh. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself. Maybe that’s not real? Or maybe you two just have a lot of static electricity that has to burn off, and that just happens to be a thing when you kiss.”

I stare at her. “You know how ridiculous that sounds?”

She levels her own stare right back. “Probably as ridiculous as a spark indicating your forever love? Even better: it’s as ridiculous as the people you love being hurt whenever they hear you sing.” She folds her arms and leans back in the booth, entirely too satisfied with herself.

“You’re the worst,” I groan.

“I love you, too.”

We eat, and we finish the pitcher. And then there’s no way we’re driving home, so her new man arrives to pick her up, and Quinton shows up to get me.

He grips my arm to steady me as I fall into the passenger seat. “Damn, Magnolia, you did some damage in there,” he chuckles.

I close my eyes and hum. Then I fling them open, because the sensation of being on the ocean is far too intense. “Oh god,” I moan.

He laughs again as he pulls onto the road for home. “You’re twisted. I never thought I’d see the day when sweet Magnolia got lit.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” I say. “Sweet little Magnolia. Never does anything. Never gets suspected of doing the salacious deeds.”

“Big word you got there,” he grins at me before looking back at the road.

I swat him. “Hush. And it’s true. No one ever suspects me of anything. Which is good because whoo, boy, if they knew.”

“Knew what?”

I hiccup. “Knew my secret.” Belatedly, I realize I’ve said too much. “Just kidding, Quinton. No secrets. Not here. Nope. I’m sweet Magnolia.” Then I sing the words Sweet Magnolia to the tune of “Sweet Caroline,” followed by a rousing bah, bah, bah, and clamp my mouth shut again.

Thankfully, all Quinton does is laugh. “A little Neil Diamond comes out when you’re drunk, eh?”

I giggle. “Aw, you’re so Canadian.”

“Okay, sweet Magnolia,” he says indulgently. “We’re home. Do you need me to help you inside?”

“Nope.” I lurch up and haul myself out of the car. “You’re great, Q. Thanks.” I shut the door and make my way up the stone walkway to the house. I send a buzzy wish into the Universe for my sisters to ignore me, then head inside and up to my room without anyone talking to me.

It isn’t until I’m in my bed, two glasses of water chugged and a good old-fashioned aspirin downed, that I realize I’ve got a string of texts from Riggs, each one racier than the next. I squint at the screen and force myself to reply.

Magnolia

I’m very drunk, but all of this sounds delightful.

Three dots, or at least what I think are three dots, appear immediately.

Riggs

On a school night?

Magnolia

It’s all your fault

What you did to me

Who the hell does that

It was so hot though

Riggs

Oh, my girl is extremely drunk, isn’t she?

I think about caring that he’s possessively called me his girl, then I swat it away.

Magnolia

Not sure I can sing around you anymore, which makes me sad

Riggs

Why not?

I wince. “Dammit, Mags,” I whisper. “That was stupid.” I don’t have to tell him the whole truth, just a little bit of the truth. He seems like a careful guy. Man. Guy man. Man guy? Whatever.

Riggs

You still there?

I type the answer before I think too hard about it.

Magnolia

Because I like you too much.

Then I squeal and flop back onto my bed, my heart pounding in my chest. Crap! I just told him I liked him!

It feels like I’m twelve all over again, right before I told Andrew Scotts that I thought he was cute. Unfortunately, Andrew Scotts proceeded to make a face and declare that girls were gross, and witches were even more gross, and that since I was both of those things, I was absolutely the grossest.

Obviously, this was before I realized that twelve-year-old boys were assholes. Oblivious little assholes who were mentally still about ten years old and in no way, shape, or form ready for the awesomeness that was girls. Or other boys.

Across the room, something crashes to the floor. I surge upright, heart pounding. Before I can get out of bed, my phone buzzes, so I grab it and squint at the words that swim in front of me.

Riggs

I like you, too.

I grin at the screen so hard that I probably look terrifying. Then, deciding whatever fell isn’t a big deal, I turn my notifications off and fall into a dreamless sleep.