Chapter 15
LIZA
Hex & Honey is packed to the rafters, as usual. There's a queue out the door—tiny witches in rainbow sweaters, two mermen arguing over a punch card, and a harried mom trying to wrangle twins armed with levitating sippy cups.
The place could survive the apocalypse as long as Clover stayed behind the counter.
I join the line and pull out my phone. Three unread texts.
Cassian: Busy?
He includes a photo of the world's saddest police-station coffee pot. And, somehow, a second text complaining about the first coffee pot.
I smile before I can stop myself.
When it's finally my turn, Clover leans across the register.
"Rough morning?"
"Dealer's choice," I say. "Heavy on the serotonin."
Her eyes narrow immediately. "Town council rough or wolfman rough?"
My cheeks heat. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Liar."
She boxes up a coffee cake and slides it toward me. Then adds a tiny blue cupcake.
I point. "No."
"Yes."
"Clover."
"It's free."
"That doesn't answer the question.”
"It wasn't a question."
I stare at the cupcake. The cupcake stares back. I'm pretty sure it's enchanted.
"I don't trust that look."
"It's harmless."
That is exactly what someone says before turning you into a frog.
Clover laughs. "It's not a love potion."
"Good."
"It just lowers inhibitions."
I pause. "That is not better."
"Relax." She waves a hand. "If you don't want the cupcake, don't eat it.”
I should leave it. Instead, I tuck it into my tote.
Clover grins like a woman who already knows how this story ends.
Outside, the wind smells like saltwater and rain. The walk back to Town Hall should clear my head. It doesn't. Because my phone buzzes again.
Cassian: Busy?
I type back before I can overthink it.
Me: You offering to help with the rough day?
The response comes immediately.
Cassian: Always.
Cassian: Dinner tonight? I'll bring something.
My stomach does an embarrassing little flip.
Three weeks ago, I would've spent an hour decoding that message. Now I know exactly what it means. He wants to see me. The realization still makes me smile.
Cassian arrives just before sunset. Two knocks before the door opens. Like always. He's wearing dark jeans and a charcoal henley with the sleeves pushed up. The man makes running errands look criminally attractive.
His eyes meet mine. Immediately soften. Every single time.
"Hey." The low warmth in his voice settles somewhere beneath my ribs.
"Hey."
He steps inside, and try not to stare.
Fail. Completely.
His mouth twitches. The jerk.
"Long day?"
"The council spent thirty minutes debating banner colors."
"Monsters."
"I know.”
He laughs and I hand him a mug of coffee. He takes it without looking away from me. Which suddenly feels like a mistake.
The apartment seems smaller than usual. Warmer. The air between us carrying its own sort of electricity. Then he notices the pastry box.
"What's this?"
"Clover had an idea.”
His expression immediately becomes suspicious.
"That's concerning."
I hand him the cupcake. He studies it. Then me. Then the cupcake. Then me again.
"What did she tell you?"
"Nothing useful."
"Liar."
I sigh. "She said it makes ‘it easier to get through the awkward stage. It’s like a gentle nudge.”
His eyebrows lift, and for a second, neither of us says anything.
"You want a nudge?" The teasing disappears from his voice and the question lands between us.
Honest. Real.
My pulse stumbles as I whisper, “Maybe."
His gaze holds mine. Steady. Patient. Dangerously warm.
"I like where we’re going, Cass."
“So do I."
"I just don't want to mess it up."
The distance between us disappears.
Not completely. Just enough.
His hand settles over mine. Large. Warm. Careful. "Liza." The way he says my name should be illegal.
"You're not going to mess this up."
I swallow. “What if we move too fast?"
His thumb brushes my knuckles. The gesture is impossibly gentle.
"Then we'll slow down."
Something inside my chest loosens. Because that's Cassian. No pressure. No expectation. Choice. Always choice.
"I've been worried about the opposite."
My breath catches. "The opposite?"
His laugh is soft. Almost embarrassed. "That I'm being too patient."
Heat floods my face. "Oh."
"Yeah."
Neither of us looks away. For a long moment, the only sound is the crackle of the electric fireplace. Then I rise onto my toes and kiss him. Softy at first.
His hand slides to my waist.
Mine catches in the front of his shirt.
The kiss deepens. Slow. Unhurried. The kind that makes the rest of the world quietly disappear. When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine.
"Still want dinner?" His voice is rough.
I smile. "Probably."
"Probably?"
"I'm trying to remember what dinner is."
His laugh vibrates against my skin. God help me. I love that sound.
A few minutes later we're sitting at the counter with takeout containers open between us.
Neither of us is paying much attention to the food. Or the conversation. Or anything resembling normal behavior. The cupcake sits untouched nearby. An innocent blue menace.
Cassian glances at it. Then at me.
"Think we need it?"
I follow his gaze.
Then shake my head. "Not even a little."
His smile is slow. Dangerous. The kind that makes my stomach flutter. He breaks the cupcake in half anyway.
Offers me a piece.
"Just in case."
I take a bite. Lemon. Honey. Something warm and magical beneath both.
Cassian takes a bite too, and for a moment, nothing happens.
Then we both freeze. The warmth blooms outward.
Not overwhelming.
Not uncontrollable.
Just enough to make it impossible to ignore what was already there.
"Clover."
"Clover," he agrees as our eyes meet.
The kitchen suddenly feels very small. The air feels thicker. The distance between us feels ridiculous. Maybe it's the cupcake.Maybe it's not. Maybe Clover didn't create anything at all. Maybe she just gave us permission to stop pretending.
Cassian sets the wrapper aside. Slowly. His gaze never leaves mine.
"Well." I swallow.
"Well." The corner of his mouth lifts.