Rowan
When I slink into bed, all I want to do is sleep, but the missed call on my phone is taunting me.
David is likely going to cancel and tell me I came on too strong by asking for a first date during the Lovers Ball.
If the roles were reversed, I would have said as much.
Everyone in town will see us dancing, and it’s Starbrook; of course, rumors will spread like witch fire.
It’s unlike me to want something so public.
I can’t blame him for walking it back so quickly.
And perhaps I should delay answering. Most people would after the night I’ve had, but I’ve never been one to avoid a call.
I close my eyes, lift my phone, and press call. The ringing, loud in my ear, drags. I count each beat, hoping he won’t answer.
“Hey,” David says, his voice low and husky.
“Good evening.” I bite the inside of my cheek, restless in the moment of silence. Will he speak next, or will it be me? I’ve always despised phone calls, even if they’re a necessary evil in my line of work. “You called a bit ago. Sorry for missing it.”
“It’s all right. Just wanted to talk to you before our date.”
I chuckle. “Most people would text.”
“Maybe, but I enjoy calling. I wanted to hear your voice.”
He wants to get to know me, and that’s something I want to want as well. It’s something I want to accept. If nothing else, he’s a surprisingly reassuring presence; the rumble of his voice lulls me as I turn onto my side.
“I will admit, you’re a welcome distraction tonight.”
“Yeah? Seth giving you a lot of trouble?”
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it. “Of course. You know how he is.”
There isn’t a bit of truth behind my words. I’m the one bringing trouble for Seth—trouble in the form of haywire, failing magic. Trouble like me breaking down to him, hating myself in front of him so loudly. Louder than I’ve ever been.
At least with Dave, I won’t do that. Can’t do that. There’s comfort in the mask I wear around him, around most people. He doesn’t know me as well as Seth does, and perhaps that’s what I need: not someone who’s seen every side of me, but someone who can bring out something new.
“Yeah,” he says. “I do, but I don’t want to talk about him. I called about you.”
“And what could you possibly want to know about me?” I stare up at the white ceiling, my lips twitching. “I’m the most boring of the Hawthornes. Haven’t you heard?”
“No one talks about you like that.”
“Just me then? But I know myself better than anyone else, so one could argue that my perception is the clearest.”
“Rowan…”
“Fine.” I huff. “All I do is work, but if you don’t find that dull, perhaps you’ll be the exception to public opinion.”
“I don’t. I work a lot too, you know.”
“That’s right. I suppose you do.”
He’s in a position so similar to Juniper’s—taking over the family business, and all the weight that comes along with it. I may not be able to understand it, but I can recognize the pressure to perform.
But it’s winter in Maine, and he owns an ice cream shop, which begs the question…
“What do you do during the off-season?” I ask, perking up.
I’ve known David for so long, but there are questions about him I’ve never considered. What are his hobbies? What does he despise? What’s his favorite ice cream flavor?
I can’t believe I don’t know the answer to that last question. He certainly knows my preference for mint chocolate chip and has teased me about it every summer for as long as I can remember.
“Winter is my favorite time of the year,” he says. “Gives me more time to focus on my sculptures.”
Right. Of course.
My lips tug up at the corners. I can recall winter festivals, with David winning so many ice sculpture contests from a young age. A prodigy, they called him.
“What kind of sculptures?” I ask. “I’m sure ice isn’t your preferred medium.”
“Nope. It’s wood. I’ve been carving a lot lately.”
“It’s nice to know you’re still working on your art. I value crafts and creations.”
“Of course you do. Athena is your patroness.”
Having spent so much time with Seth, it’s a comfort to talk to another witch—someone who isn’t my sister. David and I have different practices, but he still understands me, and something settles deep in my bones.
And he remembered my goddess. Maybe all the times I’ve been looking at Seth, David has been looking at me—though that feels impossible, considering their history.
“Mhm. Precisely.”
“And what about you? Do you still knit?”
I blink. He remembers that? My knitting is far less consequential, and I… I don’t…
“How do you know about that?” I whisper.
“C’mon. You don’t think I’ve never seen you sitting in the café, wearing that cute look of concentration while you’re knitting those scarves, sweaters, hats—I don’t know what you make, actually, but they look cute.”
My face is burning. “That’s about everything I make, yes. Blankets take too long, so I don’t bother, but don’t forget the socks. Those are important, especially in winter.”
“How much would it cost to commission a pair from you?” He chuckles. “My feet are cold these days.”
“For you? I’ll do it for free… but I haven’t had as much time to work on that as I would have liked this winter season. Or the last, really. I’ve been busy.”
“You need to make time for it.” There’s a soft, firm rumble in his voice.
I lift a brow, even though he can’t see it. “Yes, sir.”
The laugh he lets out next is loud enough to make me smile and hide my face behind my hand. Who do I think I am, making jokes like that?
“I’m going to let you go before we start something we’re not ready for,” he says. “Good night, Rowan.”
And, despite everything else going wrong, after speaking with Dave… it is a good night after all. When I go to sleep, it’s as though there’s a soft, warm blanket around me. His presence.
I’ve never been so nervous to visit Seth at the café.
But there are other things for me to attend to first. I sleep a few hours later than usual and wake at seven to prepare for my client calls. Two consultations, one call with a longtime client. It should be easy.
Alison, the owner of an antique shop, has always been a demanding client. Her shop is a few hours away, in Portland, but despite how much she asks of me, she’s loyal.
The moment she signs on to the call, her face reflected in the laptop screen, I know she means business. Her painted red lips are pressed together.
I force on a polite smile, the one I’ve spent years practicing in mirrors—that belongs to my clients. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you as well.” Instead of meeting my smile, she frowns. “You are aware this meeting was scheduled for an hour ago, yes?”
“I—” I look down at my tablet, opening up the calendar.
No. That can’t be right. I had another call—a—
Oh, goddess.
A double booking. How did that happen? Alison left several emails that I just missed.
I lift my head and swiftly recover. “Apologies. There must have been a problem with my schedule.”
“This doesn’t normally happen.”
“I know. And I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen. I’m sorry. I take full responsibility. Are you available for the next hour, or should we reschedule?”
She huffs. “This is fine.”
By the time the end calls, she’s appeased. We work out the kinks in her bookkeeping. Everything is fine, but she’s right…
I’m not normally like this. Why am I so scatter-brained?
After three hours of calls, I finally have a moment to breathe.
But I have to see Seth. My skin is crawling, and that moment… the moment where it all went wrong… the moment where I failed him… when I hurt him…
It’s replaying. It can’t stop. Even the few lighthearted texts Dave sent me can’t distract them anymore.
David
Got my suit.
Me
Care to share a picture?
David
Nope.
It’s a surprise.
My heart isn’t in it this morning, no matter how kind he is, no matter how much I enjoyed speaking to him last night. When have I ever been this fickle? I hardly recognize myself.
The person ahead of me in the café opens the door for me, only to walk to the other side of the building—to the flower shop, to be served by Donnie.
I slide by and approach the café, waiting for the people ahead of me to pay and receive their drinks. When I face Seth, it’s too soon, but he’s smiling at me as though everything is ordinary. Perhaps it is. I’ve always had a terrible habit of overthinking.
“Already got your drink ready,” he says, holding it out to me.
To my relief, his injuries seem to be fully healed.
“Thank you.”
My fingers brush against his as I take the cup. It’s something that wouldn’t usually happen with another barista, but with him…
Is it purposeful?
He meets my gaze with his, so warm and inviting, and I long to stare at him all day. I equally want to run away.
I look around, dropping my voice and leaning closer. “I wanted to apologize for freaking out last night. You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping well, and I think it’s affecting my moods—and my work now, too. I missed a client call this morning.”
I’m saying too much. I know I am, but I can’t stop rambling, and Seth doesn’t stop me.
“You?” His eyes widen. “Missing a call?”
“I know.” I hold my coffee closer to my chest. “It’s embarrassing. I’ve never felt so out of sorts.”
His lips tug into a firm frown. “You don’t have to apologize to me. Not for this. I know how hard you work, and I don’t want you to wear yourself out with your magic for me.”
“I should be fine now, if you want to try the spell again—”
“No.” The answer comes too quickly, and he lets out a slow breath. “We can talk to Scarlet, and if that doesn’t work… maybe we should take a pause on the hex breaking. Let this thing work itself out. It’s temporary, right?”
He doesn’t trust me anymore. Doesn’t trust my magic. He’s right to, but my heart sinks anyway.
“All right.” I grip my wallet tightly, my knuckles turning white. “You’re right. Um… thank you. For the coffee.”
“Anytime.”
I drop some bills into his tip jar.
All is forgiven, but it doesn’t feel as though anything is all right. Not one bit.
I look out the window late into the night, so late that my sisters are all working at the tavern or in bed…
And someone is in my car. The light is on, and a tall figure is opening the door.
This is exactly what I need during my night of relaxation. Someone is stealing my car.
I all but fly downstairs to face the intruder head-on, but…
The moment I notice it’s Seth, my heart stops racing.
“What are you doing?”
My question lingers in the air.
He looks up, his face illuminated in the soft yellow light beaming down from the roof of my vehicle.
It’s not a nice car by any means, but I worked hard to afford it—and neglected it every day since. It’s no wonder that Seth has a little trash bag and appears to be rummaging through my little compartments.
“Um… surprising you,” he says, rolling down the window. “Just cleaning up a little. Laurel gave me the keys. I guess I should have warned you, huh?”
My organizational skills lie mainly in computers and spreadsheets, and they don’t apply to little things like this. Still, I didn’t think it was so bad that he would have to devise such a plan.
“Yes.” I pull my sweater tighter around myself and stop outside the window.
There’s no saying what’s going on with Seth and me. At the café this morning, I could have sworn he was done with me—and perhaps that was my anxiety speaking, but I don’t realize it until he smiles at me and the knots in my stomach finally untangle.
“This is for me too,” he says. “I’ve been in your car an awful lot lately and… that stack of papers in the back. Ro—”
“You didn’t.” My eyebrows draw down. Sure, I forgot about the paperwork I’d thrown back there, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to throw it away. I glance at the trash bag, considering rummaging through it.
He steps out of the car, shuts the door, and holds out a dark blue folder with color-coded labels. My favorite color, and he went through the trouble of organizing everything by category.
“Don’t worry. I kept everything right here.”
“Oh.” I bite my lower lip. “Thank you.”
Seth has been in charge of his family since his mother’s illness made her incapable of taking care of day-to-day chores, and I know how much he has to do. Cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and paying the bills. But he wasn’t naturally organized or on top of those things until he had to be.
He did this for me, and he understands how important this is. No matter how cluttered my car is, I don’t want it to be that way. It makes my head swim to be in such a chaotic environment, though I don’t have the energy to take care of it myself.
And now, I don’t have to.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.
Why am I getting worked up over something so small?
“You don’t have to say anything.” He slings the little plastic bag over his shoulder. “I just wanted to take one thing off your plate… show you that you can come to me for help. You know that, don’t you?”
I nod silently.
But it’s hard to accept. Help from anyone is difficult, and Seth has so much else to worry about, including his hex. The hex I’ve failed at breaking.
There’s something in me that wants to let him in when he smiles at me, as warm as the sun even in the dead of night. He knocks his shoulder against mine as he passes by.
“Go back to sleep,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”