Rowan
Seth needs to put some clothes on.
He’s sitting in my room with just a towel wrapped around his waist, and—we probably should have thought about this before, but it’s too late. I won’t make him wear dirty clothes after bathing. Unfathomable.
So, he’s in my room. Practically naked. On my bed.
I’ll never be able to get the vision out of my head—his large biceps, broad shoulders, chiseled chest, and the V-shape that disappears beneath the towel. He’s all lean muscles, and while I’ve seen his chest before during trips to the lake, it’s different to witness him in my bed.
Luckily for us, he lives nearby.
I shove my frozen fingers into my pockets and shuffle across the street, desperate for a moment alone and a bit of fresh air.
I’ve seen way too much of him tonight, and though I pride myself on having impressive sovereignty over my mind, it’s wandering without permission. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, really, being this out of control.
I bounce on the balls of my feet and knock on the door, waiting for Liezel to answer.
She’s surprisingly swift, all things considered. The door swings open as she greets me with a bright smile. “Ro! What are you doing here?”
“Picking up a few things for Seth,” I mutter, certain my face is scarlet. “He’ll be coming home soon, he just needs—well…”
Underwear. He needs underwear, but there’s no way I can say that to her face. How can I explain why without mentioning the hex?
She chuckles. “It’s good that you’re here. I’ve been waiting for him to help me with something, but you’ll do.”
I shut the door behind me, and she drags me inside—their home is a bit cluttered with Seth’s shoes and workout equipment, but squeaky clean otherwise. He works hard to keep it that way.
“What’s wrong?” I glance over my shoulder. Maybe Seth should be here for this, whatever it is.
“Can you get this open?” She holds out a thing of ice cream—the kind with the screw-on top. They’re notoriously hard to open, in my experience, and I can only imagine how her lack of muscle control makes it harder for her.
My heart tugs.
“Of course.” I shake my head. “Sorry for keeping him so late. You know you can always come over, right?”
She waves a hand. “I know, I know, but there’s no need for something like this. Don’t baby me.”
It’s rare for her—so kind, nearly motherly—to be sassy with us, and I can’t help the puff of laughter that passes through my lips. I take the cool ice cream in my hands and twist the lid once, twice, grunting.
“Not so easy, is it?”
“They make these things impossible to open. Not very disability-friendly. I’ll have to write the company a strongly worded letter.”
“And I’ll sign it too.”
I twist again, and it finally comes undone. I wrap a paper towel around it and give it to Liezel. “Do you need anything else while I’m here? I can do the dishes, help you get changed—”
She gives me a knowing look. “I don’t need anything. Go take care of Seth.”
Great. My face is hot again.
Take care of Seth… well, I’m doing my best, but it seems the hex will not be so easily broken. It would be too good to be true if it were, but I can’t help but feel like a failure.
Could have done better. Should have.
I shake off her words and the accompanying look and go to his room to grab what I came here for. It would be too easy to curl up in Seth’s warm bed and comfort myself with his scent—the scent of musk and, somehow, sunshine, even in the gloomiest time of the year.
I don’t. I run home, knocking on my bedroom door like I’m a stranger. Considering how this night has gone, I feel like one.
“Come in,” Seth calls from the other side of the room.
Inhaling deeply, I open the door and shove my hand in, offering the clothes—sweatpants, boxers, and a T-shirt.
“C’mon. It’s your room. You don’t have to stay out there.”
I count to three and go inside. And there he is—sitting on my bed with a towel wrapped around his waist. Gods, he’s so strong—strong enough that I know he could throw me around.
No. No. Where did that come from?
“Um. Here.” I hold out the clothes and turn my head to the side, averting my gaze.
“Don’t get shy on me now.” From the corner of my eye, I witness him smirking—something I’ve seen him do before but never in my direction. Flirty. Frustrating. “You already saw me in the bath.”
“I’m not shy.” I lift an eyebrow, forcing myself to meet his darkened gaze. “I just want you to get dressed. Can you please do that for me?”
He stands up and approaches, tenderly taking the clothing from my grasp. I nearly hang onto them too tightly, but I’m no match for Seth. My empty hands drop to my sides, my chest rising and falling as if I’ve run a marathon rather than dragging my feet up the singular set of stairs.
“Can you turn around?” His voice becomes a low rumble, almost unrecognizable.
“Of course. I-I can leave.”
“You don’t need to do all that.”
He laughs, and the spell is broken as I turn, blazing, and cover my face with my hands.
It’s so juvenile. As if I’ve never seen a naked man before—and I have.
Men, women, and other genders. No one has ever made me as flustered as Seth does.
The only thing that calms me down is the rustle of his clothing as he gets dressed.
If I have to think about his bare chest and how I touched it for several excruciating moments, I may faint in his presence.
“All done,” he says.
I hold my head high and turn to him. He’s still holding the damp towel, and I nearly reach out to take it before thinking better of it.
“You can put that in my hamper.” I gesture vaguely to the wicker basket in the corner of my room.
“Thanks.” The word doesn’t carry much meaning until he drops off the towel and turns to face me, his eyes full of an intensity I didn’t realize Seth could carry. “For everything. I feel terrible.”
“What is there to feel bad for?”
“I dunno… for being a jerk and getting myself hexed because of it. For needing your help.” He laughs, but it’s not the laugh I know and love. His shoulders don’t shake, his eyes don’t crinkle. He runs a hand over his face. “Maybe I should give up on love.”
Before I can stop myself, I scoff. “When have you ever looked for love?”
His eyes widen.
The thoughts were supposed to be just that—thoughts—but now they’re voiced, and I’ve likely hurt his feelings. Not only have I failed him as a witch, but also as a friend.
Then again, he shouldn’t be so surprised; he said it before. He was never looking for love. I can’t imagine him having a serious relationship. All of my relationships are serious. Sometimes too serious, leading to heartbreak on either side.
Perhaps that’s what Seth was trying to avoid, but if someone felt the need to hex him, it seems he failed.
I’ve always assumed it was his feelings for Laurel that made him incapable of giving his heart away, and perhaps that’s still the case even now that she’s picked someone else. It’s hard to say. Either way, it’s none of my business.
I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.
I wince. “Sorry.”
“No, no. You’re right.” His smile tightens. “I’ll, uh—I have to go see my mom.”
I nod. “She asked about you.”
“I bet.” He heads for the door. “She doesn’t like it when I’m out this late without telling her. Gets lonely, you know.”
In the moment that he walks away, I scramble desperately to find something more to say. Something that would make him stay. But there’s nothing.
“I know.”
“G’night.”
“Seth?”
He turns his head, his expression soft and tired.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” There’s a plea in my voice. I hate how weak it makes me sound. Absolutely pathetic. “We have a lot of other things to try next.”
Don’t give up on me so soon. I can do this.
He smiles, soft but genuine, and my heart can finally settle. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”