Chapter 27 #2
Over the next week or so, I busied myself with everything I could think of to resist the temptation of stopping by the shop.
I ran, I read, I baked even though I didn’t know how, I watched documentaries about religious cults and unsolved crimes and the deep sea, I called Ivy, I drank a lot of wine. None of it helped.
Through it all, my thoughts found their way back to Oliver. What he was doing, whether he was thinking of me. How much I wanted him to change his mind. How his hands felt on my body under the hot spray of the shower. How much it hurt that he didn’t believe me. How much I could see it hurt him, too.
How he saved me.
When the night of the full moon finally rolled around, I found myself wishing I had more time. I wasn’t ready to see him again, and yet, I was desperate to see him again. And conflicting emotions were notoriously problematic for magic’s sake.
But we didn’t have time to wait for the next full moon, so it was now or never.
Lola had found a full moon festival through her tattoo artist, so we were all prepared to head to Shoreditch tonight to check it out (save Vera, who wasn’t at all interested in crowds).
The instructions for the spell weren’t specific regarding what kind of Full Moon Ceremony I participated in, so the Shoreditch Park Full Moon Festival felt just fine.
And best of all, it was a masquerade ball theme. Which meant I could let my guard down a little and actually try to enjoy it, safe behind the cover of my mask.
We’d agreed to meet at the Old Street Tube station at ten thirty, so I put the finishing touches on my look and prepared to head out.
I left my hair down, another security blanket, letting the curtain of messy waves obscure my face.
Hopefully, between the unassuming black dress and the oversize mask Lola had dropped off earlier this week, no one would recognize me and I would be safe to get the job done.
I grabbed yet another cold brew on my way to the train, preparing to be awake until sunset tomorrow.
Which, if you asked me, felt highly unnecessary.
But I wasn’t one to question the spell’s requirements, and I was willing to do whatever it took to get Vera back into her human body, so I had to get in the mood for an all-nighter. Fast.
The Tube roared east, and I kept my face buried in the copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray Oliver had been eyeing when he was at my flat, partially so no one would see me and partially because I couldn’t put it down.
I was usually more of a true crime girl, but something about Dorian’s predicament, watching himself age in a portrait when in life he still felt young and beautiful, felt eerily similar to the experience of the modern celebrity.
I felt for him in a way I didn’t usually for rich white men in classic novels.
And Oliver had been eyeing it, so naturally I wanted something to talk to him about.
When I got off the train at the Old Street station, I didn’t spot any of the others right away, which gave me time to finish the chapter I was on. I found a corner out of the way of foot traffic and leaned my shoulder against the wall, burying my face in the book while I waited.
“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.” Oliver’s voice cut through the buzz of the station, coming to me like a dream.
“What?” I asked, fighting the smile that was already stretching across my face. Apparently, I couldn’t stay mad at him. Though I wasn’t sure how badly I wanted to.
“Lord Henry,” he said. “Say what you will about Oscar Wilde, but the bloke knew what he was talking about when he wrote that line.”
His voice was rough, somewhere between want and restraint. I could tell even in the crowded station. The sound ran through me like a shot of tequila, and I was already craving another.
“Hi,” I said, tucking the book under my arm and letting my eyes wander from his head to his toes.
Navy wool coat, sport jacket, white button-down open at the collar to reveal the slightest bit of chest hair and the glint of his chain, tailored pants, and perfectly shined shoes.
I took my time looking back up, though I couldn’t deny the pull of his gaze.
“Hi,” he said. “Before you say anything, I owe you an apology for the other day. I was rude, and you didn’t deserve that. Belief systems aside, I should have tried to be more open and more respectful about what you were telling me, and I was the opposite, and I’m sorry.”
I didn’t realize I’d been waiting on those words until they washed over me like warm water. “Apology accepted.” I sighed, relieved. “Thank you. And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time.”
“Say no more. I deserved it.”
I wondered if this meant he was coming around to the idea of magic, but I knew better than to ask. I wanted this to be a nice night. I didn’t want to risk ruining it with a disagreement. Instead, I decided to move on. Starting with the way he looked.
I held him at arm’s length to get a better view, making no effort to hide my admiration.
“Like what you see, do ya?” he asked, his smile slow and indulgent.
“Can’t complain,” I said, though the reality was I more than liked what I saw. Was drooling over it, maybe. Paralyzed by it. Already memorizing every inch of it.
“If I look even half as good as you, I’ll take it.” He offered me his elbow, and I ducked my head so he couldn’t see how hard I was blushing. It was already like our argument hadn’t happened, and although I was certain it was bound to come back, I was relieved we didn’t have to rehash it now.
And he must have felt the same, because he dropped his lips to my ear and whispered, “Seriously, Willow. I know I’m probably supposed to keep my hands to myself, but that dress is going to make it a proper challenge.”
“You strike me as someone who likes a challenge,” I said, keeping my eyes trained ahead. If this was how we were starting the night, I was hopeless to hold on to even a shred of control. It was slipping through my fingers like silk, and I was powerless to stop it.
“Lucky for you.”
I glanced up at him, watching mischief dance in his eyes like flames. Shame on me for thinking staying up for two days was going to be the hardest part of this night.
Fortunately, Min and Lola came into view before he could say another word that threatened to turn me to liquid before the night even began.