Chapter Five
“If you can’t get the hang of this, Elliot, I’ll bind your powers.”
He sighed. “Yes, Grandmama.” He wanted to fling his hands out and say Just bind them. I don’t want them anyway. It’s not like they work when it actually matters.
Elliot hovered his hands over the sedated dog lying on the vet table in his grandmama’s clinic. He’d been helping out here since he was a kid. Since the first time his powers manifested.
That fateful day in first grade when he’d healed a broken arm.
Healing witches were a family legacy on his dad’s side. Everyone had been excited that Elliot’s powers had manifested early because it was a sign he’d be extremely powerful once his powers matured on his eighteenth birthday.
Elliot, however, had been a disappointment.
His powers were erratic and unreliable. He’d turned eighteen three months ago and couldn’t even heal this dog’s broken leg.
“Maybe if you were a certain ridiculously reckless guy, I could heal you,” he mumbled to the dog.
But every time Elliot wanted to give up, to accept that his powers must have skipped him like they had his dad, he remembered the car crash.
Remembered how his healing powers had saved him from almost dying. Had jumped from his skin to save Damon too.
They hadn’t been enough to save Damon’s father. Damon would have a dad if Elliot weren’t such a shitty witch.
Elliot’s grandmama huffed after another five minutes passed and nothing happened. She waved a hand over the dog, and the bone and skin knitted itself back together.
“I’m sorry,” Elliot said, energy deflating. “I don’t know why I can’t do it.”
“You aren’t focused. Where’s your mind?”
Elliot wrinkled his nose, shrugging.
Grandmama hobbled over to the bench in the corner and slumped into the seat. She was paler than usual. Her normally mischievous eyes were tired and sunken. A lethargy hung heavy in her aura.
She looked like she had after she’d healed Damon’s mom’s broken pelvis after the crash. It’d taken weeks for her to recover after healing an injury of that extent.
“Are you okay?” Elliot asked.
“I’m fine. Just old. We had a hoarder situation earlier today. Healing eleven animals at one time might have overworked my powers a little.”
Elliot worried his lip. Another reason he needed to learn to summon his magic at will so he could take some of the burden off her shoulders. “You need to be careful. One of these days you’re going to burnout or have a heart attack or something.”
Grandmama waved a dismissive hand. “You should know better than to lecture me, boy. I will bind your powers.”
Elliot rolled his eyes and plopped down on the doctor stool.
Grandmama would never. She was just stubborn and prideful.
That stubbornness was why she still hadn’t given up on Elliot. For some reason, she still believed in him.
“I can tell your mind is elsewhere,” she said, refusing to take the hint that Elliot didn’t want to talk about it.
“Damon and I got into a fight,” he finally admitted.
She stared, waiting for him to continue.
“Apparently a girl in our school told him I was gay. He asked me, and I couldn’t lie to his face.”
Grandmama was the only person in his family that he’d come out to. It wasn’t that he thought his parents wouldn’t accept him, more that he just didn’t see the point. It’s not like he had a boyfriend or anything.
“He didn’t react well?”
Elliot gave a one-shoulder shrug. “He was upset.” After replaying the conversation in his head over and over, Elliot realized that Damon wasn’t being homophobic or rejecting him. “He was hurt that I didn’t tell him.”
Guilt gnawed at him every time he saw Damon in the hall, every time he thought about texting him, because being gay wasn’t the only secret he was keeping from him.
Elliot had wanted to tell Damon he was a witch for years, but if he did, he’d have to own up to the fact that it was his fault that Damon’s dad was dead. Elliot was a coward, too afraid of losing his best friend, so he kept his powers a secret too.
Grandmama hummed. “That boy has always been strangely possessive of you.”
“No, he hasn’t.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“He isn’t,” Elliot insisted.
“Okay.”
Elliot spun himself around on the doctor stool, staring at the ceiling. “I feel like crap that I’m keeping so many secrets from him, but now that he knows I like guys, it’s only a matter of time until he figures out how I feel about him.”
“When was the last time your powers worked?” Grandmama asked.
Elliot sighed and stopped spinning on the chair.
Guess they were done talking about Damon.
That was fine. He hadn’t wanted to talk about him, anyway.
“I don’t know. Like maybe over the summer?
Or no, Christmas break. I was able to heal myself when I cut my finger.
” Elliot wasn’t about to tell her about his boner-reducing spells.
Grandmama squinted. “You cut yourself at Damon’s house.”
“Yeah, we were helping his mom with dinner.”
She pursed her lips. “And before that, in the summer, what happened?”
Elliot narrowed his eyes, thinking. “I healed that dog who got run over by the car, remember? The one with the ruptured spleen?”
“And earlier that day you were with Damon?”
Elliot rolled his lips. “Uh huh.” He remembered that day vividly. They’d been invited to a pool party, which devolved into a game of chicken. Damon had lifted Elliot onto his shoulders. His big hands had wrapped around Elliot’s thighs and squeezed them to keep him steady.
After their team won, Damon had been elated.
He’d tossed Elliot over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.
Damon ran around the pool, shouting their victory.
He’d slapped his ass—in a very manly, platonic dudes in sports kind of way—but Elliot’s body didn’t recognize the platonic part.
When Damon finally put him down, Elliot’s body slid across his best friend’s wet, naked chest in torturous slow motion.
Elliot had to excuse himself because his lust-killing spell was not working, and in fact, his powers were churning in his veins, heating him from the inside out.
By the time he finally got them under control, his shift at the clinic was in an hour and he had to leave.
“The first time your powers manifested, it was because Damon was hurt,” Grandmama said. “He’s the key. Your powers react to him.”
“What?” Elliot asked. “No one else’s powers work like that.”
She shrugged. “Prove me wrong. Go make up with him and come back here. I bet your powers are jumping from your skin.”
Elliot shook his head. “I spend like every day with him. If he was the key, why don’t my powers work every day?”
Grandmama pinched the bridge of her nose, looking put upon. “Because I’m guessing that there is a very specific energy that you’re tapping into with him on certain days?”
Elliot blushed. His grandmama wasn’t really saying he needed to be horny to get his powers to work, was she? Horny for Damon because his powers certainly didn’t get boosted when he messed around in the backseat of his car with guys from school.
“Give it a shot. Let me know if it works.” Grandmama said. “But keep the details to yourself.”
Yep. That was exactly what she was saying.
Elliot had been a wreck for the past week and a half. He missed Damon so much. Going to his house. Sitting on his bed. Just being near him.
He couldn’t live this way anymore. He needed Damon in his life, and he didn’t want to hide who he was.
Damon already knew he was gay, so telling him that Elliot was a witch probably couldn’t be much harder…
And then Elliot could hang out with Damon again and know that he’d told his best friend all of his secrets.
Well, almost all of his secrets.
All of the secrets that actually mattered.
Elliot stayed after school on Thursday and settled himself on the uncomfortable metal bleachers outside the baseball field.
It didn’t take long to find Damon. Elliot’s eyes were magnetized to the long graceful lines of his body and the rippling of his muscled arms as he threw the ball to his teammates in the outfield.
The clouds parted, and the sun shined down on Damon like he was an angel. His brown skin glistened. His every movement, divine.
Elliot left his bag on the bleachers and walked toward the chain-link fence to get a closer look. Parents and other adults lined the edges, talking to their kids before the game.
He didn’t know how Damon knew that Elliot was there, but Damon turned and looked straight at him.
Elliot held his breath.
Damon grinned, and he tossed the ball to someone and jogged over.
Elliot hooked his fingers into the chain-link fence and pressed himself as close as possible. Being in Damon’s sightline made something inside of him feel lighter, his magic fizzing in his veins.
Damon pulled his glove off and tossed it on the ground. He grabbed the chain-link fence on his side, his hands just inches away from Elliot’s.
“What are you doing here?” Damon asked, out of breath, despite only jogging a few yards.
“I haven’t missed a single game in four years. Not gonna start now,” Elliot answered, his voice low and husky.
Damon’s eyebrows pulled together in gratitude. He nodded like a bobblehead. “No. You never have. You’re like my biggest fan.” His face fell. “Or…well, I guess, you were…before I fucked up—”
Elliot wasn’t thinking when he released the chain-link fence and threaded his fingers through the metal that Damon grabbed, effectively holding his hand from the other side.
“I’ll always be your biggest fan, Damon.”
Damon’s bottom lip trembled; his dark eyes became intense, searching, probing.
The corner of Elliot’s mouth quirked up. It wasn’t often he could leave Damon speechless.
Damon’s throat worked in a hard swallow.
“I’m so sorry for—” He glanced around at the people surrounding them.
Elliot expected him to pull his hand away, but he didn’t.
“I’m sorry for forcing you to tell me your secret.
You were right. I’m not entitled to know everything.
You deserve privacy, and I’m sorry. So sorry. I’m your biggest fan, Elliot. Always.”
Damon moved his other hand—the one that Elliot wasn’t holding—and he threaded his fingers over top of Elliot’s free hand.
His stomach swooped. At some point, their faces had gotten closer to the chain-link fence. They’d be close enough to kiss if the metal wasn’t in the way.
A whistle blew, and they startled. Damon turned toward the dugouts, and Elliot reluctantly stepped back, pulling his hands away.
“It’s okay, Montré,” Elliot said. “Go knock ‘em out of the park, yeah? I’m skipping studying to be here, so you better not let your biggest fan down.”
Damon turned back to Elliot with a crooked grin. “You got it, Croft.” He scooped up his discarded glove and jogged away.
Elliot tried (and failed) to not watch his ass in his tight baseball pants as he crossed the field.