CHAPTER ELEVEN #2
As if she can read my very thoughts, which would be impossible. She’s just a dog.
“Don’t start.”
Her ears droop harder.
I can’t think about leaving right now. Can’t think about how, after only a month back in Crescent Cove, this place already feels more like home than the city ever had.
I reach for the bookstore door.
It doesn’t budge.
I frowned and try again.
Locked.
That’s when I notice the sign hanging in the window.
THURSDAYS: OPEN AT NOON
I check my phone.
10:15 a.m.
My stomach growls loud enough that Gin looks up at me, tilting her head as though wondering why I hadn’t fed myself more than coffee and let my stomach get to the point where it loudly protests.
If she had her way, she’d eat a dozen times a day until she was so round she couldn’t fit through the front door and would still want more.
“Well.” I sigh. “Change of plans. Let’s grab lunch before I pass out dramatically on the sidewalk.”
The café is only down the street, but after the unfortunate exploding-water incident, I’m not emotionally prepared to face the judgment of every barista in town.
Even if she insisted it wasn’t me, I know I wasn’t the only magical creature in Crescent Cove with an affinity for water, but I wasn’t going to push my luck.
Toast and Tide Diner sounds safer. Maybe they have outdoor seating where Gin and I can eat instead of taking the food to go.
I pull up directions on my phone and start walking. Gin trots happily beside me until suddenly she surges forward hard enough to yank my shoulder.
“Whoa, Gin. Calm do—”
I slam directly into something solid.
Not something.
Someone.
Warm hands catch my shoulders before I can stumble backward.
“Easy there, Wren.”
My stomach immediately flips.
Elliot.
Of course it’s Elliot.
Because apparently the universe enjoys publicly humiliating me now.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt, glancing up and immediately regretting it.
He’s wearing a faded navy T-shirt stretched across a chest that should honestly be illegal, board shorts hanging low on his hips, sunglasses pushed up into damp dark hair like he’d just come from the beach.
Sunlight bronzes his skin gold, and the corner of his mouth tips upward into that lazy, crooked grin that makes coherent thought abandon ship entirely.
Meanwhile, I’d nearly tackled him into traffic.
Wonderful.
“Catherine,” he says slowly, amusement dancing in his deep brown eyes, “what are you doing here?”
“Well, I came to the bookstore because I finished the books I bought and then I finished the ones you brought me, and I wasn’t making progress with my magic, so I thought maybe I’d take a break and come into town for new books, but the bookstore’s closed until noon, so now we were going to get brunch and—”
I stop to inhale.
Why am I like this around him?
“Wait. I’m rambling.” I press my lips together. “What are you doing here?”
“Here?” He looks around theatrically. “In the town where I live?”
I glare at him.
His grin widens as he crouches to scratch Gin behind the ears. “Hey, beautiful girl. Miss me?”
Gin immediately rolls onto her back for belly rubs.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter.
“She has excellent taste.”
“Well, that’s debatable.”
He rises back to his full height, towering over me with infuriating ease. “To answer your question, it’s my day off. I’m running errands. Relaxing. Existing peacefully until someone assaulted me on the sidewalk.”
“I did not assault you.”
“You hit me chest first with surprising force, actually.”
“You’re built like a brick wall!”
“That sounds suspiciously like a compliment.”
Heat floods my face.
“It wasn’t.”
“Mhm.”
I hate how smug he looks.
I hate even more that part of me likes it.
“Oh.” I try for nonchalance. “Well. I guess having a day off makes sense.”
“You should try it sometime.”
“I have been taking breaks, thank you very much.”
“Really?” He crosses his arms, brows lifting. “You’re telling me you haven’t opened your laptop and checked your email obsessively every single day since you got here?”
I open my mouth, then close it because technically obsessively was subjective.
His smirk deepens like he can read every thought crossing my face.
“Oh my goddess.” He chuckles softly. “You absolutely have.”
“Only a normal amount.”
“How many times a day?”
“That information feels private.”
“Catherine.”
“Maybe… a few.”
“A few,” he repeats skeptically.
“A dozen-ish.”
His head tips back as he laughs, sunlight catching the sharp line of his throat, and the sound hits me square in the chest.
Warm, easy, and dangerous. Everything I do not need right now.
“You’re unbelievable.” He’s still grinning at me. “Come on.”
“What?”
“You said you were getting brunch.”
“I was.”
“Good. I’m starving.” He takes the leash gently from my hand before I can protest. “And before you say no, Gin already picked my side.”
Gin trots happily beside him like they’ve been best friends for years.
Traitors.
Both of them.
“Just because—”
My mouth snaps shut.
Over Elliot’s shoulder, heading this way with the same arrogant swagger I’d hoped to never see again, is Brody Braxton.
My entire body goes rigid.
No.
No, no, no.
Of all the people in Crescent Cove.
Brody strolls down the sidewalk like he owns the damn town, sunglasses pushed up into sandy blonde hair, phone in hand as he laughs at something on the screen. Older now, broader through the shoulders, but still carrying that same smug energy that used to make my life miserable.
My high school bully.
The boy who spent years making snide comments about my clothes, my quietness, my “weirdness.” The same boy who’d suddenly decided senior year that tormenting me wasn’t nearly as fun as trying to date me.
As if I’d ever say yes.
Pretentious asshole.
The air prickles sharply against my skin.
Magic stirs uneasily in my chest.
Not now.
Please not now.
I can’t lose control here. Not in the middle of Main Street. Not in front of Brody freaking Braxton.
The last thing I need is him running around town telling everyone Catherine Prescott came back to Crescent Cove magically unstable.
“Elliot,” I say quickly.
“Hmm?” He’s still watching me with that lazy, amused look, like he’s enjoying how flustered I get around him.
“Do me a favor.”
“One that doesn’t involve bodily injury this time?”
I glare at him, but panic is already buzzing beneath my skin. Brody’s getting closer.
Fast.
“Hold my hand,” I whisper, shoving mine toward him. “Act like we’re on a date or something.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“Wait, what?”
He starts turning to look behind him, but I grab his jaw with my free hand and yank his attention back to me.
“Don’t look,” I hiss. “Just do me this favor, and I’ll buy you lunch.”
“Lunch?” His mouth twitches. “Wow. You really know how to spoil a man.”
“Elliot.”
His teasing softens immediately at whatever he sees on my face.
His hand slides into mine. Warm. Strong. Instantly grounding.
The nervous static of my magic eases so quickly it nearly steals my breath.
“There,” he murmurs. “Better?”
I swallow hard and nod once.
“I just… there’s someone coming I’ve known since grade school, and I really don’t want him knowing I’m single or why I’m here or honestly anything about my life because he’s insufferable and—”
Next thing I know, the world tilts.
A startled gasp leaves me as Elliot sweeps me off my feet.
One second I’m standing there rambling; the next, my back hits the warm brick wall with Elliot braced over me.
My pulse absolutely detonates.
His arm cages me in above my head while the other wraps firmly around my waist, holding me flush against him.
“Like this?” he asks softly, eyes sparkling mischievously.
Oh, he’s enjoying this.
His voice drops low and rough, warm breath ghosting across my cheek as his fingers flex possessively against my hip.
My brain completely short-circuits.
“Elliot—”
He leans closer. Closer.
Until all I can smell is ocean water, sunscreen, and him.
Then his mouth brushes the curve of my jaw.
Not a kiss.
Worse.
A slow, deliberate tease that sends heat spiraling through my stomach.
My breath catches sharply as he trails another along the sensitive spot beneath my ear before dipping lower to my neck. The scrape of his stubble against my skin makes my knees wobble.
This man.
This absolute menace.
I clutch the front of his T-shirt as his mouth brushes my pulse point.
“Relax, Wren,” he murmurs against my skin. “You’re shaking.”
“That’s because you’re insane,” I whisper breathlessly.
More like driving me insane. How does he turn my world upside down in one move?
A soft chuckle vibrates against my throat.
The sensation nearly melts me into the sidewalk.