Chapter Twelve #3
“I… actually like it,” I noted, taking another, larger sip.
“That’s fantastic!” Rowena exclaimed, setting her already half-empty cup on the end table. “I’ve successfully converted a non-believer.”
I scoffed. “Tea isn’t a religion.”
“To us herbalists it is.”
That made me roll my eyes and shrug in reluctant agreement. “What’s in this tea anyway?”
“It’s my new blend,” Rowena explained. “It’s Chai tea with the pumpkin spice blend and some maple syrup. If it’s popular with customers, I’ll make it our signature fall blend every year for Halloween.”
“It certainly tastes like fall,” I agreed. “But you know what this means?”
Rowena raised her eyebrows.
I grinned deviously. “Now I need to get you to try coffee.”
Rowena pursed her lips, and I gave a teasing smirk.
“Fine,” Rowena huffed, finishing off the last of her tea. “Tomorrow, though. I’ve already had three cups of tea today, so I’m at my caffeine limit. Now let’s get back to work on those cookies.”
After a while, once I’d gulped down several frosted cookies and more pumpkin spice tea, our cookie-decorating project began to unravel.
It started with Rowena telling me I had frosting on my face.
When I asked where, she reached out with her finger and plopped a smidgen of the purple goop on my nose.
“Right there,” she grinned, mischievously crinkling her own nose.
My mouth nearly fell open. Rowena was always so aloof and reserved. This was the wildest, most playful thing I’d seen her do.
And of course, I couldn’t let her win, which resulted in ten minutes of chasing each other around the café with frosting on our fingers.
Wild shrieks of laughter filled the air, and I had to keep my adrenaline down so I wouldn’t be tempted to shift.
Exercise always drew out the wolf within me, wild with energy and hunger.
But as I chased Rowena, with her bare shoulders and back nearly within arm’s reach, my wolf form was feeling a very different kind of hunger.
I had Rowena cornered, my frosting-covered pointer finger raised menacingly in the air. She froze, her eyes darting back and forth as she scrambled for an escape plan.
A wicked grin crept across my face. I had her now. And there were, admittedly, a lot of places on her body I’d be happy to smear frosting on.
I lunged forward, but before I could catch her, she made a move I hadn’t anticipated. She leapt over the back of the high-backed chair, which stunned me because of how tall it was, and tumbled off the seat onto the floor.
Face first.
“Rowena!” I exclaimed, scrambling around the side of the chair and crouching down next to her crumpled form. She was hunched over, her back and shoulders facing me, and she hadn’t uttered a sound. I pressed a hand against her back, my stomach twisting as I feared the worst.
If she injures herself from our little game, I swear…
Then Rowena shot up off the floor, which sent me scrambling backwards. Though before I got too far, she managed to grab my shoulder, steady my face, and swipe more purple frosting on my nose.
“I really fooled you!” Rowena cackled. “I win!”
Rowena was beaming, her eyes glistening as she reveled in her silly little victory.
But I wasn’t even concerned about her game anymore.
All I could focus on was how close our bodies were.
How she had her fingers curled around my shoulder, her purple nails leaving the faintest indents in my white undershirt.
How running around the café for ten minutes had left Rowena’s hair a wild mess, her cheeks flushed pink, and her chest heaving from exertion.
My gaze trailed from her face down to her neck, then down to her collarbone and her corset-concealed breasts.
Some wild, insane, feral part of me wanted to take her right there and then on the floor of the café. To give in to what we clearly both wanted, then bask in the afterglow where we finally revealed all the deep, hidden parts of ourselves.
But that could never happen.
We both fell silent. The current record on the record player had run out a while ago, leaving us alone with nothing but the sound of wind rustling outside.
Finally, the antique wall clock clicked, and five loud, hollow ringing sounds echoed through the café.
“It’s five o’clock,” Rowena stated in a flat, informative tone.
I startled, rising up off the floor and onto my feet. “Already? Damn.”
Rowena nodded, understanding my concern. “You should head down to the village square. The event starts at five thirty.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. I stood there, still as a statue with my ears ringing from the clock and my eyes locked on Rowena.
Panic flooded my brain. But it also filled me with a sense of determination.
Do it , it urged.
The worst she can say is no.
“Are you…”
I saw Rowena’s shoulders tense before I even finished my question.
“…going to the pumpkincarvingcontesttonight?” I spat out the rest of my sentence so quickly, the words muddled on my tongue.
Rowena was frozen for a moment. But then she sighed, the strained muscles of her collarbone softening until they were no longer visible.
“Um, no, I’m not. But I hope you have a wonderful time. I’m sure everyone will be excited to see you, and–”
“You should come.”
Silence. The sun had been setting for a while, but now the café suddenly seemed much darker. I couldn’t even hear the crackling of the fire – it had been reduced to embers in the fireplace.
“Oh,” Rowena’s gaze fell to the floor. “I appreciate it, Nettie, but…”
“To be honest, you’re my only real friend in Wisteria Grove,” I blurted out as the skin on my neck and chest flushed with nervous sweat.
“That’s… not true,” Rowena replied. “Juniper and Adrian and Mabel will be there.”
“I… don’t really know them that well. I’d like to, but I’m nervous to go out there and socialize by myself.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, wringing my clammy hands against my dress. “I’d really love your company.”
You’re pushing it. My chest and neck burned even hotter.
Yes, I had nefarious motives of wanting to know why Rowena was an outcast. But every word I’d said to her was true.
I was still a newcomer in this town. I needed to make an appearance so no one would get suspicious, but as someone who spent their whole life on an island, interacting with near-strangers was foreign to me.
I didn’t want my ears and tail to pop out if I got too nervous.
And I did want Rowena’s company. More than anything.
“I…” Rowena’s voice trailed off. There was something hidden behind those dark, glossy eyes. It looked a lot like fear, and a little like pain. She swallowed, and the muscles in her face softened. As if something had clicked into place in her mind. “Okay. I’ll come.”
“You will?” I hadn’t expected my pleas to actually work.
“Yes,” Rowena replied, though I noted there was no excitement or joy in her tone. She brushed past me, walked into the back kitchen, and returned with her black cloak shrouding her shoulders.
“We should get going,” she instructed, opening the front door and gesturing for me to follow her. “You first. I’ll lock up.”
As I stood out on the front porch, the autumn evening air chilling my heat-soaked skin, an anxiety-filled smile crept across my face. I’d done it. Rowena was coming to the festival with me.
But as I heard the faint shouts of other witches further down the road, dressed in their cloaks with pointy hats perched atop their heads, I began to wonder if this was a good idea.
Rowena had secrets, and I wanted to find out what they were.
But part of me was still afraid of the truth.