21. Seth
Seth
I think I’ve talked to almost everyone here—or at least everyone I’ve dated. We ran out of witches, and I don’t want Rowan’s help anymore. I have to figure this out myself, to be better for her. I will be better for her.
Which is how I find myself tapping a werewolf named Julia on the shoulder.
She sighs as she turns to face me. “No, Bautista. I don’t want to dance.”
Julia and I only briefly saw each other, and while it wasn’t the messiest ending, I’ve learned a lot over the past few weeks. If someone is annoyed at me, they probably have good reason to be.
I wince. “Sorry. That’s actually not what I’m here for.”
Every time I explain the hex, the person on the other side laughs. And every time, they say they have nothing to do with it. Sometimes, they say I deserve it. Julia is no exception, and neither were the two people I talked to before her.
It’s hopeless.
By the end of the night, with my heart heavy and my feet sore, I don’t want to be here anymore. Usually, when I get that feeling at a party, it’s because I want to be with my mom. I worry about her even when I’m trying to distract myself.
But now, when the clock is about to strike midnight, I only want to be with Rowan.
Before I can leave, Farrah’s timid voice floats through the racket of the event. “Seth?”
I offer her the only smile I can—an exhausted one. “Hey.”
Her cheeks flush. “Sorry. I know you were busy all night, but I’ve been waiting, and… I mean, it’s no big deal at all. I really just wanted to know if you’ll dance with me? So, will you? Dance with me?”
She’s practically out of breath by the time she stops rambling.
And I should say yes. Farrah has danced with plenty of other people. She seems to be enjoying herself, and the last thing I want to do is ruin that.
But I don’t want to dance. I want to go home.
And home isn’t a place. I’ve heard so many people say that—that home is a person, a feeling—but I don’t know it for sure until I look over Farrah’s shoulder and see Rowan leaving the party with someone else. She’s always been the first person to leave an event, but she usually goes alone.
Now, she’s going with someone who used to be one of my best friends. How am I supposed to feel?
My heart races. I don’t look away until her auburn hair is out of view.
I shake my head slowly. “Sorry. I was just about to leave. Next time?”
Farrah deflates. “Um. Yeah… sure.”
Guilt doesn’t have time to hit me.
I run from it, the same way I’ve been running from everything else and everyone else. For so damn long. So damn fast.
Nothing else matters. I need to talk to Rowan, but she’s already gone, and by the time I’m home, she’ll probably be in bed.
That doesn’t stop me from hopping in my car, grateful I stayed sober for the night. It’s too easy to speed through Starbrook when everyone else is at the party. I park, scramble out, and there she is—the back of her head, her hand on the doorknob, ready to disappear before I can catch her.
But I’m here, just in time. Again. I don’t worship her gods, but I’m starting to think the fates are on my side after all.
“Ro?”
She turns around, and I jog up, meeting her on her porch. Rowan spent the night dancing, laughing at someone else’s jokes, but she still looks like she belongs to me as her hair falls around her face and goose bumps form over her arms.
“I’ve asked everyone,” I blurt. “I found everyone. No one—they all say they didn’t do it.”
“Slow down.” She steps forward and takes my hands, her warmth meeting my ice. “What do you mean? The hex?”
“Tonight, I talked to everyone, and they all said—”
She laughs—actually laughs, but it sounds exhausted. There’s nothing funny about this. “Have you considered that you’re sabotaging yourself? Maybe you want something serious, and that’s why what you were doing before didn’t—”
“You’re right.”
She blinks. “I am?”
This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to apologize, tell her how sorry I am that I’ve failed, that I want to be ready for her, to be right for her. Those words, the ones I practiced in my mirror, don’t feel like a good fit anymore.
“Maybe my heart belonged to someone else the whole time, and I didn’t realize,” I whisper. “Maybe… maybe I’m hoping she’ll give me a chance.”
And maybe that will be enough to break the hex.
Or maybe I’ve always been hexed, from the time I was born, and that led to me pushing everyone away…
including her. But I don’t want to keep doing that; I can’t keep living like this.
Knowing Rowan as deeply as I do now, I can see everything clearly. Loneliness. Fear. Guilt.
I’ve been alone for long enough. I know that with certainty when her fingers weave into the front of my shirt, and she drags me closer, her eyes narrowed on mine.
“One chance.” That’s all she says before her lips fuse with mine.
I’ve never known Rowan to give second chances, and I wouldn’t expect her to change for me, especially not in this way. And that’s fine. One chance is all I need. I don’t intend to fumble it, not this time.
I feel desperately for the door, and we stumble inside, shutting it behind us.
“The fire,” she says, shuddering.
Right. That. It’s freezing in the house, with all the sisters out and about—and now the place is ice cold. Damn.
Rowan’s fingers slip from mine, and she wanders to the living room. She kneels by the fireplace and does a task I’ve seen her do a million times before: stacking wood and lighting it with her magic.
It’s different now; every movement is sensual. Her gaze flickers to mine as I stand, uselessly, in the middle of a living room I know as well as I know my own.
“What… about Dave?” I finally dare to ask, breaking the silence.
Yes, I want to know if she’s still going to see Dave, but it’s more than that. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I already have, and there’s still a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that they would be better together. That insecurity, as big as it may be, is one I try to swallow.
“Dave and I are just friends,” she says. “I told him that tonight… or rather, he seemed to assume it. I had hoped there could be something, but I don’t love him. Perhaps I could have if we’d given it a chance, but I’m not sure that I can open my heart to someone else right now.”
There’s a silent admission, one between the words, hidden in plain sight.
Does that mean Rowan loves me?
I’m not brave enough to face the question head-on.
“He knows? About… us?”
I still can’t believe there’s an us for him to know about. It all feels so surreal.
Rowan nods, looking up at me from beneath her dark eyelashes.
Frozen. Even when the fire heats the living space, I’m frigid. I haven’t done enough for her yet, and I don’t know what else to do.
She beckons me with the curl of a finger, looking at me with a blaze I’ve never seen.
How did I miss that for so long? I drop to my knees without thinking.
The hardwood digs into my knees, but I crawl to her, and each movement is worth it as she spreads her legs.
Her dress rides up around her thighs, making the perfect spot for me to crawl into.
When we kiss again, it’s reckless. Teeth and tongue.
She moans softly, so unlike anything I’ve ever heard from calm and controlled Rowan, and my pants are tight.
Uncomfortably. This isn’t what I thought would happen tonight.
I never imagined that she would hold my hair tightly, wrap her thighs around me, and pull me in.
I never thought I would grind against her, letting her feel that I want her, to know the truth I’ve been hiding even from myself.
But I can’t stop. I don’t want to, and judging by her fingers messing with the buttons of my shirt, I don’t think she wants that either.
“Please.”
That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear. I don’t know what she’s begging for, but I know I’ll give it to her.
“Yes. Yes.” I sit up, settle onto my knees, and rip off my suit jacket. My shirt follows next, undoing the buttons so swiftly that one pops off as I pull it off my shoulders.
My cock is harder when Rowan’s eyes rake over me, drinking me in.
Everything about her is as slow, analytical, and calculated as ever.
But she’s a beautiful mess. Her hair has almost entirely fallen out, despite Aspen’s handiwork and glamour magic that should keep it in place.
Her dress hangs off one side, nearly revealing her round breasts.
She lies down on the floor, sprawling out, and it’s my turn to beg.
“Take it off. I need to see you, Ro.”
The flush on her face isn’t just from the fire; it can’t be. It spreads all the way down her chest as she sits up, turns around, and looks at me over her shoulder. “Unzip?”
She doesn’t have to ask me again. I waste no time pushing the fabric down her shoulders, my hands moving over soft, warm skin, pressing into the rolls on her back. There’s nothing more sensual than the way she feels under me. Smooth. Plush.
“We should go upstairs,” she says.
She’s right. Her sisters will be home soon, and… I don’t want to wait another minute. The last thing we need right now is an interruption. I stand and scoop her into my arms, carrying her up the stairs as she lets out a giggle—so different from her usual laughter.
I’m obsessed with the sound. Can I really make her sound like that?
“I’m too heavy!” she says, tapping my chest. “Put me down.”
“Oh, please.” I scoff. “I was built to throw you around.”
I carry her to her room and use my foot to shut the door behind us before dropping her onto the bed.
Her underthings are still on. My pants are still uncomfortable.
Those things should be taken care of first, but I need to kiss her again.
I settle on top of her, pinning her wrists over her head as our lips connect.
She arches her back into me, and we kiss, slowly this time, savoring each connection of her lips.
“My room is soundproofed,” she says between kisses. “Just so you know.”
“Oh?” I move my kisses down her neck, inhaling her perfume. “I’ll make good use of that.”
“Will you?”