Chapter 39
Ithink I’m dying. My cheeks are on fire.
I can’t swallow. All because Cal’s thumb is aimlessly caressing the back of my hand while we sit at the table and he tells me about his day at the firehouse.
I’d tell him about my day, but his touch short circuited my brain, and all I can think about is his hands.
He calls this phase one of teaching me how to flirt. Physical intimacy scares me, so we start with the basics.
I shouldn’t enjoy the sensations as much as I do.
“What if he doesn’t come to the bar tonight?” My voice wobbles when I finally push words past my lips.
Cal gives me a deadpan stare over the top of his beer. “When have you known Dane to skip a weekend at the Hex?”
“I guess.”
“Sienna, relax. I’ll take care of you.”
“I’ve never held someone’s hand this long before.”
“I know.”
I swallow my nerves. “Thank you for doing this. I appreciate you. And I swear I will go to your cousin’s wedding.”
“You don’t have to. I know how much you hate leaving Driftwood Pointe.”
My cheek twitches. “Do you blame me?”
“No. If my magic was like yours, I would want to stay too.”
Cal is a mage whose magic tends toward protective spells. That’s part of why he’s a firefighter. His powers help him smother a blaze and rescue its victims more easily than a normal human.
No visions.
No catatonic freak outs that could land him in a psychiatric hospital.
“You never told me why you didn’t leave after high school,” I say.
His gaze settles on my face like he’s cataloguing every eyelash. He’s never looked at me so intently before. I want to break eye contact, shrink away, but this also feels like a test. Like if I’m flirting with Cal, I would get lost in his eyes too.
So I make myself.
He has a small scar partially hidden in the scruff along the angle of his jaw.
His silver eyes are as clear and crisp as a full moon.
A tattoo is barely visible beneath the collar of his shirt, but I haven’t seen his bare chest since we went skinny dipping, so I don’t know what it is or how long he’s had it.
I’m tempted to run my finger along the fabric and investigate. The intensity of my longing shocks me. I can’t give in to that sensation.
But…
Does he have other tattoos I don’t know about?
Scars? He’s been injured on the job, so there must be a few.
He probably has a six-pack and that delicious V that disappears below a man’s waistband.
I blink to break our connection. I can’t shatter the barrier between us.
Not with Cal.
I don’t know what I would do if I saw his death.
I can’t live with that.
There was a minute in high school, right before Everett, when I hoped Cal and I could be a couple. In a vision, we went to prom together. His cheek pressed to mine as we slow danced to One Direction felt like the pinnacle of romance.
But that prophecy didn’t come true.
He asked someone else—the girl he gave his virginity to and then dated for the next two years—and I sat home eating Haagen-Daz and watching Practical Magic with my mom. That was when I learned my prophecies don’t always come true like my kissing curse visions.
Besides, being friends with Cal is better than the alternative. He always respects my boundaries. He doesn’t joke or make light of my visions. The closest we get is that he nicknamed me JR because of my No Kissing on the Lips rule, like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.
“I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else. This is home.” He squeezes my hand.
Right, I asked him a question before my brain took a detour to wondering about his… nope. Friends. Friends. Friends, Sienna. Only, always, forever best friends.
Cal looks like he wants to say more to answer my question, but instead he laces our fingers together and kisses the back of my hand. “Dane’s here.”
The cauldron in my throat expands.
Where Cal is muscles and sinew, Dane is elegance and precision. His black suit is tailored to his trim waist and emphasizes his long, lean legs. But the mustache he’s been growing for the last few months looks more like a fuzzy caterpillar.
I’m not sure what I think about it yet.
I search the memory from my vision. Did I feel the scrape of facial hair when the man kissed me? I don’t remember.
Cal tugs my hand. “Ready for stage two?”
I nod.
He tucks his thumb under my chin and turns my face away from Dane and toward him. “I need to hear you say the words, Sienna. Hex rules. My rules too.”
I lick my lips. “Yes, I want to keep practicing.”
His gaze drops to my mouth then up to my eyes.
“Then come here.” He flips his chair around and backs it against the wall.
He sits and tugs me into his lap, so I’m sitting sideways.
We’re in a dark enough corner that someone would have to squint to find us.
The perfect place for a new couple to flirt and cuddle during a night out on the town.
One hand rests across my lap, securing me in place, and his other weaves under my tank top to massage my lower back. The sensation is so erotic, I let out a breathy moan totally inappropriate for where we are.
It’s a little back massage, but the movement of his fingers is intoxicating.
He rests his cheek on my shoulder. “That’s it.” His raspy voice is deeper than it was a minute ago. “I got you.”
I rest my head on his. “What are we doing?”
“Flirting.”
“But Dane—”
“Can wait. This is about you.” He kneads and strokes my skin as the hum of the bar envelops us in warmth.
Cal and I have hugged, we’ve sat hip to hip on the sofa, but nothing ever as intimate as this.
His thighs are solid and strong underneath me.
His hand on my back is the perfect mixture of deep pressure and light caresses, so perfect that I want to drag him home for a full body massage.
Candles. Lotion. Silk sheets. A hum rumbles deep in Cal’s chest, and I almost believe he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
I feel eyes on us and scan the bar. My gaze catches on Dane’s. He’s watching us with his glass pressed to his lips, but he isn’t drinking. It’s like the sight of us has frozen him in place.
We’re Medusa, and he’s in our clutches.
Cal’s hand shifts, squeezing my hip. “What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”
I don’t break eye contact with Dane. “He’s watching us.”
Cal hums low in his throat. His lips brush my shoulder. “We still good? You want this?”
I break eye contact with Dane and press my forehead to Cal’s. The intensity in his eyes makes them glow even brighter. “I feel sexy and confident when you touch me.”
He holds me tighter and presses open mouthed kisses to my neck, my jaw, my cheek while his hands continue massaging my thighs, my hip, my back.
He’s everywhere, and I shouldn’t lean into him or want him to continue, but it feels so good to be touched. To be caressed and rubbed and worshipped by a man with strong hands and a fierce heart.
Long-dormant parts of my body—the ones aroused last night—are waking up and wanting more.
But Cal won’t take us there. He doesn’t want me like that. He never has.
My massage fantasy will live entirely in my head. This is just practice so I’m comfortable when it’s time for me to use these moves on Dane.
That’s still what I want, right?
Cal nuzzles my collarbone. “Doing okay? You tensed.” His teeth scrape my skin, and fire pulses straight to the apex of my legs.
I am not okay. I squirm to relieve the pressure, but that doesn’t help. Cal’s touch ignites and overwhelms.
“I… umm… I need a drink.” I grab a glass from the table and chug it in three quick mouthfuls. The bitter liquid cools my throat.
“Sienna, no—” Cal grabs the cup.
Bile replaces the chill. My eyes roll up in my head, and he holds me tight against his chest as the vision takes me.
I’m here at the Hex. Cal and I are standing toe to toe, screaming, yelling, fighting with each other. He’s wearing the same white T-shirt and dark pants he’s wearing now, so this will happen later tonight.
His face is red. Sweat beads at his hairline, and he jams his finger toward the door as angry words spew from his mouth.
I can’t hear what he’s saying, but his body language tells me everything I need to know.
He’s furious with me. Angry in a way I’ve never seen him.
The me in my vision yells back. I’m just as angry with him as he is with me.
Our erotic backrub transforms into absolute hatred in a matter of minutes—maybe hours.
How? Why? But I can guess the answer.
I shouldn’t have asked him to help me. I should have trusted myself and my vision to make my night with Dane come true.
Did I destroy my best friendship for a chance to break my curse?