Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Ethan's alarm went off and he swatted it silent before the sound could wake Mal. Through his bedroom doorway, he could just make out a tail dangling off the edge of his couch, twitching occasionally in whatever dreams demons had.
Probably something about good coffee.
The memory made Ethan smile even as other memories of the day before sat heavy in his stomach. He'd told Mal things he hadn't even admitted to Noah. About not feeling good enough.
And Mal had tried to help, in his awkward demonic way. That spell he'd cast on the ice cream was supposed to fix everything, though Ethan didn't feel any different this morning. Maybe magic just took time to work. Like bread rising, or library hold requests getting filled.
He went through his morning routine on autopilot, thoughts drifting between Kyle's abrupt departure yesterday and Mal's surprisingly gentle attempts at comfort. The demon who’d crashed into his life really wasn’t very demonic, was he?
Except that he would still collect Ethan’s soul when all was said and done.
Ethan couldn’t let himself forget about that.
He cast one last look at Mal before leaving his apartment.
Whatever magic he’d worked on Ethan, Ethan would find out soon enough.
The library always felt different before opening hours. Sunlight slanted through the high windows, turning dust motes into lazy constellations and the empty reading rooms held their breath, waiting for the day to begin.
Ethan loved getting to the library early to enjoy this time when it was just him and the books.
He was shelving a cart of returns in Literature when Dr. Wilson appeared around the corner, already wearing her stern expression. The ancient head of Reference Services had probably been old when the library was built, and she ran her department like a particularly strict ship captain.
"Good morning, Ethan." She peered at him over her glasses. Yesterday, she'd winked at him. Today, her usual frown was back in place. "Have you read the new Booker Prize winner we just acquired?"
"No, but I saw it on Kyle's desk a few days ago and thought about how pretentious the cover looks. Like they're trying too hard to seem literary." The words tumbled out before Ethan could stop them. "Actually, most literary fiction is just genre fiction in a fancy jacket. Like Anna Karenina is basically a romance novel about a marriage in trouble and a love triangle. And Moby Dick is enemies to lovers, if the enemy is a whale."
Dr. Wilson's mouth fell open.
Ethan's mouth fell open too.
Had he really just said that out loud?
To Dr. Wilson?
"I mean..." But instead of backtracking, he heard himself continue: "Pride and Prejudice is basically a Regency romance with extra commentary on real estate. And War and Peace is slow burn friends to lovers plus historical fiction. Not that there's anything wrong with that! Literary fiction just pretends it's above genre conventions while using all of them and…" Ethan forced his lips shut.
What was happening to him?
Dr. Wilson drew herself up to her full height, which still only reached Ethan's shoulder. "Mr. Volkov. Are you feeling quite well?"
"I feel fine except that I can't seem to stop saying everything I'm thinking and I think this might be because of the spell Mal cast on me last night." Ethan couldn’t stop. "And now you're looking at me like I've lost my mind which I probably have because I'm talking about demon magic to the head of Reference Services and your left eyebrow just went higher than I've ever seen it go."
"Perhaps," Dr. Wilson said slowly, "you should take a break. Have some tea to calm your nerves."
"That's very kind of you but actually I think I just need to hide in the stacks until this wears off."
Ethan fled, leaving his cart of books behind. He could hear Dr. Wilson calling after him, but he didn't dare stop. If he stopped, he'd just tell her more things. Things about how her cardigans reminded him of his grandmother, or how he'd always wondered if she slept in the library because she was always here first and last to leave.
He needed to find somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. Somewhere he could figure out what was wrong with him before he ran into anyone else.
His feet carried him automatically to his usual hiding spot between Religious Studies and the Occult section. The same spot where this whole mess had started. He pressed his back against the shelves and tried to breathe.
"Okay," he whispered to himself. "Okay. This is fine. This is… this is absolutely not fine because I can't stop talking and everyone's going to think I'm crazy and Kyle's going to hear about this and…"
"Ethan?"
Oh no.
Louisa from Acquisitions stood at the end of the aisle, clutching a stack of order forms. Yesterday she'd been all flutter and flirtation. Now she just looked concerned.
"Are you alright? I heard talking."
"No, I'm really not, but you shouldn’t worry because you never noticed me before yesterday. And I'm only telling you this because of Mal's spell."
She shot him an odd look as she puzzled over his words as if trying to decide if she should be offended. "What spell?"
"The magic spell that the demon cast on my ice cream last night."
Now he officially sounded like a crazy person.
Louisa looked at him like she thought so too. "I think I’m going to go do… something else." She turned around and left him there.
Ethan slid down the shelf until he sat on the floor.
Why did it have to be Louisa who found him?
Within half an hour, everyone in the library would know that Ethan was off his rocker.
He needed to call Mal. No, he needed to text Mal. Calling would be a disaster because he'd probably tell the demon exactly how cute he looked when he was sleeping.
Not that he could do either of those things because Mal didn’t have a phone.
Was the demon watching him, though, the way he’d done yesterday?
Was he laughing at Ethan’s unfiltered word vomit?
"I knew I’d find you here."
Noah's voice. Thank god. Noah would help him. Noah always helped him.
Ethan looked up at his friend. "Save me."
"Save you from what?" Noah’s bowtie had tiny astronauts on it today.
"The demon’s cast a spell on me and now I’ve lost my filter. Remember how yesterday it was difficult for me to talk to people? Now it seems I can’t shut up, and I say the stupidest things. Dr. Wilson's left eyebrow nearly achieved orbit."
Noah studied him for a long moment. "You’ve lost your filter?"
"Don’t you dare take advantage."
"You can't hide your thoughts?"
"Noah," Ethan nearly whined because his friend looked like he was about to ask a question Ethan wouldn't want to answer.
Not that Ethan had much of a choice, currently.
And Noah showed no mercy. "Why are you really into Kyle Edwards?"
Ethan bit his lower lip.
Why was he into Kyle?
"Because he's safe." The words fell from Ethan's lips. "He's so far out of my league that nothing could ever actually happen between us. I can daydream about him without risking real rejection because he'll never notice me anyway."
The silence that followed felt heavier than all the books surrounding them.
"Oh," Noah said softly. "Ethan..."
"I didn't know that's why." Ethan stared at his hands. "I really didn't know until you asked and it just... came out." His voice got smaller. "That's kind of messed up, isn't it?"
"A little bit, yeah." Noah sat with Ethan and bumped his shoulder against Ethan's. "You deserve someone who actually sees you, you know that right?"
"Please don't be nice to me right now. I might cry." He rubbed at his still dry eyes and took a shaky breath.
"I have to tell you, though, Kyle is so totally not out of your league."
"Right." Ethan stared at his hands. "I'm just a guy who reads romance novels and gets tongue-tied around attractive people. He's about to be published by Random House."
"You're also smart and kind and literally every person in this library has been falling over themselves trying to get your attention since yesterday."
"That's the spell though. Not me."
"The spell just made people give you the attention you deserve." Noah's voice went gentle but firm. "You're the one who remembers every patron's reading preferences. You're the one who special-orders books you think they'll like. You actually care about people, while Kyle's spent the last year treating everyone around him like we're supporting characters in his great literary journey."
Ethan hadn't expected that burst of honesty from his friend. "Noah..."
"If you put half the effort into actually talking to people that you put into avoiding them, you'd have a line of genuinely interested suitors around the block. No demon magic required."
"You really think so?"
"Yes, I do," Noah confirmed, and Ethan didn’t know how he deserved a friend like that, because he was sure Noah was being serious, even without being under a spell.
"We should get you out of here." Noah pushed himself up from the floor and held out his hand. "Before you tell any more uncomfortable truths."
"Or critique cataloging systems." Ethan let Noah pull him to his feet. "I told Dr Wilson that War and Peace is slow burn friends to lovers."
"You didn't."
"I absolutely did.
"Then you should really make a run for it now." Noah peered around the corner of the stacks. "Coast is clear. If we cut through periodicals, we can avoid most people."
Cautiously, they made their way forward.
"Maybe I should call in sick," Ethan whispered.
"With your current truth-telling situation? You'd probably end up confessing that you're actually being magically compelled to tell the truth by your demon roommate." Noah led him around another corner. "Actually, that might work. They'd think you were running a fever."
"I hate this." Ethan's hands twisted in the hem of his shirt. "I feel like I'm going to vibrate out of my skin if I don't tell everyone exactly what I'm thinking about them."
"Like what?"
"Like how your astronaut bowtie is adorable but also kind of crooked and it's driving me crazy that I can't fix it."
Noah's hand flew to his bowtie. "It is not crooked."
"It's tilted about twelve degrees to the left and every time you move your head it tilts a little more and?—"
"Okay, okay." Noah adjusted his bowtie. "Better?"
"A little to the right. No, too far. There. Perfect." Ethan let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being ridiculous."
"It’s fine," Noah assured him. "You’re giving me things to tease you about for years to come."
Ethan opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of the main doors opening cut through his thoughts and if he was saying anything, he couldn’t hear himself.
Footsteps echoed across the lobby’s floor. Familiar footsteps. Ethan knew that purposeful stride, had memorized its rhythm during countless hours of shelving nearby while pretending not to notice...
"Nope." Noah tried to steer him toward periodicals. "Absolutely not."
But Ethan was already turning, drawn by some masochistic impulse he couldn't fight. Or maybe it was the spell, forcing him to face what he'd been avoiding.
Kyle walked through the lobby as if he had somewhere important to be, wearing an expensive looking cream cable-knit sweater that perfectly accentuated the depth of his dark eyes. Ethan's heart did that familiar squeeze even as his mouth opened against his will.
"Noah." Ethan's voice came out strangled. "I can't be here right now. I'll say something. I'll say everything."
"Then let's?—"
But it was too late. Kyle had spotted them, and his face lit up in that particular way it did when he had news to share about himself.
"Oh no." Ethan grabbed Noah's arm. "Oh no oh no oh no."
"Just... try to think about anything except polite things," Noah whispered.
"That's not how thoughts work and you know it and also his sweater looks so soft I bet it would feel really nice if I hugged him." Ethan snapped his mouth shut as Kyle drew near.
"Ethan!" Kyle greeted him with a smile. "I was hoping to run into you. The most amazing thing happened after our coffee yesterday. My agent called?—"
"You left."
The words tumbled out of Ethan's mouth, soft but clear. His grip on Noah's arm tightened.
Kyle's smile flickered. "What?"
"You left me sitting there." Ethan's voice wavered but wouldn't stop. "You got in a cab and didn't come back. And I know your book deal is important and your writing is brilliant, and I’m not smart enough to understand narrative temporality or post-truth society or whatever other concepts you were talking about. But you could really learn something from romance novels too. Like how not to abandon your date at a coffee shop."
Noah’s hand settled on Ethan’s shoulder in support. Possibly the only thing that kept him from bolting out the door as Kyle stared at him.
"I..." For once, Kyle appeared at a loss for words. "I didn't realize..."
"That it was a date?" The truth spell pulled more words from Ethan's throat. "Or that I've had a crush on you for a year? Because I have. I love how passionate you get about books, even the pretentious ones I don't understand. I love that little frown you get when you're writing, and how your hair falls in your eyes when you're shelving the lower rows, and the way you always smell like new books and expensive coffee."
The silence that followed felt endless. Ethan's face burned. He wanted to sink into the floor, to disappear between the shelves and never emerge. But the spell kept him standing there, raw and exposed, waiting for Kyle to say something—anything—that would put him out of his misery.
Kyle stared at him, mouth slightly open. Several emotions flickered across his face in quick succession: surprise, confusion, and then... something else. Something that made his eyes light up in a way that had nothing to do with discussing literary theory.
"You've been watching me this closely?" The question came out soft, pleased. "All this time?"
Ethan's heart slammed against his ribs. "Of course I have. You're smart and talented and—" He pressed his hands to his mouth, but the words squeezed through his fingers. "—and completely out of my league, which is why I never said anything, because why would someone like you ever notice someone who reads romance novels for fun and cries at fictional weddings?"
"I had no idea." Kyle took a step closer, and Ethan’s heart beat even faster. "You really think my writing is brilliant?"
Noah made a quiet sound that might have been a groan.
"I mean, I haven't actually read any of it," Ethan admitted, the truth spell still working its merciless magic. "But I'm sure it's amazing because everything you say is so intelligent and sophisticated and I wish I understood half of what you talk about, but mostly I just sit there thinking about how nice your lips are when you're explaining things."
Kyle showed him another smile. This one had heat in it, interest. "Perhaps we should try that coffee again." He adjusted the strap of his messenger bag. "Somewhere we can discuss this more thoroughly."
Noah's grip tightened on Ethan's shoulder. "Ethan, don’t?—"
"Tomorrow evening?" Kyle stepped even closer, completely ignoring Noah. "I know a nice place we can go. Much more intimate than a coffee shop." His voice dropped lower. "We could talk about whatever you'd like. I could share my writing with you."
The spell pulled more words from Ethan's throat. "I'd like that. I'd like that so much that I'm actually terrified because what if I mess it up again? What if I say something stupid about secret baby plots or…" He swallowed hard. "Oh god, I'm doing it right now, aren't I?"
"It's charming, actually." Kyle reached out and straightened Ethan's collar, his fingers lingering and frying Ethan’s last remaining brain cell. "This honesty of yours. Refreshing, even. Most people try so hard to seem intellectual around me. But you..." His smile turned considering. "You're absolutely genuine in your appreciation."
"That's one word for it," Noah muttered.
"Seven tomorrow?" Kyle's hand was still on Ethan's collar, thumb brushing his neck. "You're off work by then, aren't you?"
Ethan nodded, focusing all his energy on keeping his mouth shut because whatever words would come out now should never be uttered in a library.
"Perfect." Kyle finally stepped back, but his eyes stayed fixed on Ethan. "Oh, and Ethan? Wear something nice. I think green would look lovely on you." He turned and walked away, resuming his purposeful stride.
The moment Kyle disappeared around the corner, Ethan's knees gave out.
Noah caught him before he could collapse entirely. "Easy there. Deep breaths. We’re almost out of here."
"What just happened?" Ethan let Noah steer him toward the parking lot. "Did I really just tell Kyle Edwards about how I watched his lips move?"
"You told him a lot more than that." Noah fumbled for his car keys. "And he ate it up like it was avocado on toast."
"He asked me out again." The words came out faint, disbelieving. Noah finally got the passenger door open and Ethan practically fell into the seat. "After I word-vomited all over him about his hair and his intelligence and..." He buried his face in his hands. "Oh god, what have I done?"
"Based on Kyle's reaction?" Noah sat in the driver’s seat, his voice carefully neutral. "Exactly what he wanted. Nothing feeds a narcissist quite like exaggerated adoration."
"Noah!"
"What? The truth spell's catching." Noah started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "Kyle Edwards just discovered he has a groupie before his great American novel even released."
"I'm not a groupie." But Ethan's protest lacked conviction. He stared out the window, not really seeing the passing streets. "I just told him everything. Everything I've been keeping inside for a year." He licked his lips. "And he wants to have dinner with me."
"While you're wearing something green," Noah added. "Don't forget that part."
"He thinks it’ll look lovely on me." Ethan's voice held a touch of wonder.
Noah glanced at him like he wanted to say something else, but he just turned up the radio and kept driving.
Ethan sat there, replaying Kyle's lingering touch on his collar, that heated look in his eyes. All this time trying to get Kyle to notice him, and all it took was Mal's truth spell making him spill his most embarrassing thoughts.
Maybe the demon’s magic wasn't so bad after all.
Ethan was going to thank him once he got home.