Seth
Dave likes Rowan. Huh.
Dave and I were never a romantic match—at least not from my side—and when he admitted his feelings, it kind of ruined our friendship. I tried not to let it get between us, but he was clearly awkward around me, and there was no fixing it. When he asked for space, I gave it to him.
It’s been half a year since we stopped talking, and he never tried to clear things up. As much as I miss hanging out with him, I don’t think I can be the one to start our friendship up again.
And based on our conversation, I don’t think he’d want me to.
Still, after everything, I thought my attraction to Dave was over. So why is jealousy gnawing at me when he smiles at her? Looks at her? Talks to her? When I think about him taking her out, there’s a pang in my chest, and I don’t know why.
I’ve never seen Rowan date anyone. She goes to every Starbrook event alone. That doesn’t mean she’s never dated, but I didn’t consider what this would be like.
Maybe they’d be good for each other. They’re both smart, hardworking witches. He makes her blush. He’s a good guy. And she’s good too—so good. Anyone would want to be with her. It’s not much of a surprise that he likes her. Or that she likes him.
But it’s a relief when she agrees to hang out with me, at least for tonight. There would be a big, useless mess for me to clean up otherwise.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks as we weave through the icy, quiet streets.
“Not far. Just to the park.”
I can tell her that without giving too much away. It’s cold enough that my fingers sting by the time we finally make it, and the tip of her nose is red. Rowan bounces on the balls of her feet, burying her hands in her jacket pockets as I lead her into the greenhouse.
We step inside, and the warmth from the heaters wraps around us. Flowers of every color fill giant pots, and the aroma is intoxicating.
Rowan squints at me. “What are we doing here?”
“Um…” I rub the back of my neck and walk away, bringing out a big mason jar of water. “Look, I know you’ve been busy with me, so you probably didn’t realize it’s a full moon. I thought this would be a good way to make moon water without freezing. I don’t know. It’s stupid. Is it stupid?”
I know how Rowan gets. She’s always been the type to lock in on one thing—whether that’s work or her witchcraft—and right now, she’s forced to lock onto me. Now that she’s turning down a date with Dave, that only adds to my guilt.
Her eyes crinkle ever-so-slightly. “You think I forgot the moon phase?”
I laugh nervously. “Maybe that was stupid, too.”
“No.” She steps closer, and with each step, each inch she crosses, makes my heart race. “Not stupid. You’re right. I didn’t have time to prepare any of this… but what do you know about preparing moon water?”
There’s a small smile in her voice, a slight lilt, and I finally let myself peer at her. Her gray eyes sparkle in the moonlight, as if it had been created just to illuminate her.
“Um… I did some research.”
“Very impressive. Then you must have discovered that making moon water in the cold changes its properties. So, this is quite useful.”
“Yeah. Totally.”
Not. I had no clue. And, okay, maybe I didn’t do as much research as I should have, but at least I’m being useful. Her words, not mine.
“You did a great job. I knew we could make a researcher out of you yet.”
I hate that her praise makes me hot. Or maybe it’s just the greenhouse.
“It’s more than water.“ I shuffle away to pick up a tray. “Crystals. Herbs. Flowers. But the moon does most of the work, right?”
“Right. And none of these crystals are water-soluble. Very good.”
Rowan doesn’t dish out praise for free, but she is now. I can’t deny how hearing the words very good coming from her is enough to make me melt.
I clear my throat. “Thanks. Let’s set this up?”
It doesn’t take long to get ready. I’ve already prepared three jars of water, and Rowan chooses the crystals and herbs to add to each one.
By the time we’re done, we’re standing close enough that our shoulders touch.
When her cool fingers brush against mine, it feels all too natural to wrap my fingers around hers.
She gasps. But she doesn’t pull away.
“We can keep them here overnight,” I say. “I already got permission.”
She turns her head to look at me, and I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.
“You thought of everything, did you?” Her thumb brushes against the back of my hand.
My mouth is dry. Maybe I should be drinking the water instead of letting the moon have it—or whatever the point of moon water is. Even after researching, I’m not sure.
“I tried,” I croak.
“Why do you have the key to this place?”
“Uh… Donnie lets me hang out here sometimes. Help him out with the plants. Kind of like cat-sitting. But… not cats.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in plants. There are a few in your room, right?”
I nod. “I wasn’t until recently—and I mean, I’m still not… not the best. But I’m learning. It’s nice to have something to focus on. To grow something. Make something. Do you… want to see one?”
She hums under her breath. ”I’d like that.”
Rowan knows too much about me. She knows that I do everything for my mom. Alone. Take care of her. Drive her to the doctor’s appointments. Cook and clean. When my sisters visit from college—twins with almost as much energy as I used to have—it only gets more chaotic.
But I have a few things that ground me. Taking care of my body—and recently, learning to take care of plants. She’s the first person other than him I’ve talked to about this. Maybe that’s why she inspects me, her eyes dragging over me as if she’s trying to memorize something.
I lead her toward my pride and joy, my newly thriving calathea. “This… is… okay, I haven’t actually named it, but this one is mine.”
“You name them?”
I scoff. “Of course.”
“Wise man.” She coos and runs her fingers over the leaves. “You know, in my practice, plants are nymphs—minor goddesses of nature. I think she would be a beautiful one.”
“That’s nice of you. She’d be flattered, I think.”
Rowan tilts her head to the side, giving me a look I know all too well—scrutinizing, curious. It’s a Rowan look, so entirely her.
“I enjoy seeing you as a plant man. It’s a good look for you. Hands in the dirt. Do you wear overalls?”
“No. Never.”
She hums and bites her lip, her gaze never wavering. “You would look good in a pair, I think.”
I roll my eyes up to the stars. “Stop looking at me like that. You’re making my face hot.”
“Not sure how when it’s still so cold in here.”
She mutters magical words under her breath, and before I can ask what she’s saying, our hands light up. Warmth rushes through them. She takes my hand wordlessly, holding both in hers, and looks away.
And it’s not cold at all, not in here, but there’s no way I’m going to say that when she’s touching my hand and looking at me like that. She’s stepping closer. I could count the freckles on her nose, scattered there like stars in the night sky.
My gaze drops to her lips, but I only let myself look for a moment. “Yeah,” I breathe, ruining everything with a single word. “Kind of cold. We should probably get going. Now, right?”
She deflates, and I regret saying anything. “Right.”
And even though we don’t agree to it, we’re still holding hands on the way out. When she tries to pull away, I hold her tighter, and she relaxes under my touch.
I don’t know what I’m doing, or why I’m doing it, and those things matter. This can’t be because of Dave, right? That wouldn’t be fair to her.
But I can’t stop.
Between the warmth and just the feeling, the feeling of someone who has seen me at my worst and still accepts me, I don’t want to stop touching her.
Friends hold hands all the time, right? Not that Rowan has ever been affectionate. At big gatherings, she usually rejects hugs and goes for a handshake or a pat on the back. Why are we doing this now?
Actually, better question: why didn’t we start doing this sooner?
“Thank you.” She stops once we’ve taken a few steps down the path, turning to face me. “I know you have a lot going on in your own world, and that you took the time to do something so thoughtful for me—”
“It was nothing,” I say earnestly. “Seriously. I wish I could do more.”
She steps in, close enough that the smell of incense, Earl Grey tea, and the slightest hint of cinnamon wrap around me. It’s her scent. How have I never noticed it?
“What… what if the hex has already worn off?” Her gaze flickers to my mouth. Again. I fight not to mirror it. “Do you still feel it?”
There’s more weight behind her words. It isn’t about the hex. It’s about something we’ve ignored for a long time, and I don’t know if I’m ready to bring it into the moonlight and give it a good look. But try as I might, I can’t pull away.
It’s too hard to speak. Much easier to lean in, my attention drifting to her glistening lips. “I don’t know.”
Yes, I still felt the hex. All day. All night. Heaviness. Sleepless. But here, with Rowan, the world is lighter. She’s pure moonlight, a beacon in this shadow that’s been lingering around me.
“We would have to test it,” she says, “as with any important scientific theory.”
My next breath comes out ragged. I tuck a piece of auburn hair behind her ear, my rough fingers lingering on her soft cheek. “Ro… I don’t want to hurt you.”
It has nothing to do with the hex. I’ve clearly hurt so many other people, and no one deserves it, but Rowan… she should have the world. Rowan is more than an experiment to me, no matter how much she may be interested in gathering information.
Maybe I’ve been playing pretend all along, acting like I don’t know there’s something here—with Rowan and me—but I want to keep doing that. I want to dig my head into the sand and live there.
She and Dave deserve each other; they should have good things. They could both do a hell of a lot better than me, and it sounds like they want each other. I don’t want to get in the way of that.
But I can’t turn her down. My heart won’t let me.
“I’m not that fragile,” she whispers, killing me with each word. “I can take it.”
Before I can ask her how we’ll test her theory, another pair comes into view over her shoulder, lit up by a magical light all their own—Ozan and Juniper. The heat from our touch fires up as Rowan looks back, but I won’t be the one to end it.
And I don’t have to. The magic fades. Rowan pulls her hand away, even though I want her closer. Want more. My heart drops. There’s space between us suddenly, and I’m not the one who created it.
What the hell is happening to us?
“What are you doing out here this late?” Juniper asks, narrowing her eyes.
“Moon water,” Rowan says swiftly. “Donnie was kind enough to let me borrow the greenhouse, so the bottles don’t freeze.”
“Smart.” Ozan nods, looking impressed. “I’ll have to see if he lets me use it sometime.”
I smile tightly. “I’m sure he would.”
And even though Rowan’s excuse is true, even though she isn’t doing anything wrong, it feels like something is off. On the way home, we’re silent, but my thoughts are anything but. I keep replaying how quickly she pulled away from me.