Chapter 56
It’s Not A Date
It was silly to be nervous as if this was some kind of date, but I was.
A flutter filled my stomach, my chest, and apparently my hands.
I’d foraged through the pantry looking for pain relief, as I reached forward, I knocked the spaghetti over, it rolled off the shelf and landed on the floor with thud.
Then, after consuming a full glass of wine, and a couple of pieces of pizza, I reached for my recently filled glass and nearly knocked that over too.
Red wine sloshed up the side and wove through the grains of the coffee table like a bloodied stream.
Now, after two glasses of wine, a relaxing allure swum in my head and I felt the nerves dull and the tension ease from my shoulders, neck, and back.
We ate in silence on the couch. Karson seemed content to nibble at his food and drink wine.
For a moment everything seemed so domestically normal that I forced the day’s events to the back of my mind. I could think about it all tomorrow.
I twisted the spaghetti on my fork and shoved a mouthful in, a long thin tomato based strand wiggled free and dropped onto my white top, and bled into the fabric like a demonic eye. Internally, I groaned.
“Need a bib?” Karson turned with one of those smirks I hated.
“I think I’ll manage,” I muttered, announcing I needed to shower. I took the bowl to the kitchen, and headed up the stairs, to the sound of his infuriating chuckles behind me.
He was staying for the night, or at least until Ethan let him know I was safe.
The house had six bedrooms. Still, Karson sleeping under the same roof was nerve-racking.
Not in the ‘was he was going to tear his teeth into my neck’ kind of nerve racking.
More the jittery kind of nerves from the first time I planned to have sex with Tom, who was my one and only partner.
I’d decided earlier that week that Friday night would be the night.
I’d sprinkled rose petals across the bed.
I’d brought new black lingerie which rode up the crack of my ass all night.
I cooked dinner, lit a few candles, poured wine and played a long list of 1980s love songs.
I was so nervous I knocked a candle over and set the tablecloth alight.
Tom rushed to put it out and then we’d both laughed so hard we ended up on the floor.
One thing led to another, and I lost my virginity on the floor in the living room.
I smiled at the memory and shook my head, as if shaking it away. Not that Karson would be interested in me. Not only was I an average looking girl, but I was a witch. A witch.
I showered quickly and went to brush my teeth. I reached for the toothbrush, and hesitated short of physically picking it up. I took a step back, held out my hand and imagined it gliding to me. It trembled and then froze.
I’d thrown that man without even thinking about it.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I thought about it, I was desperate to get him away from Karson’s back.
I’d felt a power surge inside like an explosion of fire, whipping through my veins.
There was no logical thought, no empathy.
There was only fear and fury. I’d thrown a two hundred pound man.
But now, a simple toothbrush wouldn’t budge.
Annoyed, I tried again, urging it to me.
My fingers buzzed like static, traveling up my arm in a warm pleasant vibration.
The toothbrush wobbled. I gasped in a breath and it stopped.
Refocusing my thoughts I urged it to come to me.
As if on a string in the hands of a puppeteer, it lifted and floated to my waiting fingers.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, both amazed and mystified.
I’m a witch.
A bubbly rush flared though my body. I smiled like an idiot.
I sat the toothbrush down. Held out my hand for the toothpaste, it glided over.
With a flick of my fingers, I raised it in the air.
Toothpaste slithered out and plopped messily onto the bathroom sink.
Startled, I lost concentration and the tube dropped with a clatter to the floor.
I lifted a hand and imagined it back in its holder, it flew back, clattered against the side and knocked the toothbrush holder over.
I put everything in its place and wiped away the mess.
I wanted to stay and practice, but I was conscious Karson was downstairs.
I brushed my teeth and went to the wardrobe.
I debated what to put on. Pyjamas, as tempting as it was, didn’t seem appropriate.
Jeans—maybe, skirt—no; I rifled through the collection.
I had a couple of pretty blouses, the sort of thing I’d wear on a casual date.
I pulled out a green one and held it up in front of me, it brought out the color in my eyes.
‘Green suits you.’
As did red apparently, but I didn’t have anything red, and this wasn’t a date. I put it back. In the end I chose jeans and a simple white V-neck t-shirt, my standard attire, but at least this t-shirt was clean. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and headed downstairs.
Soft piano music floated through the air.
Karson stood by the fire. He looked up at me, wineglass in hand.
His eyes swept over me as if drinking me in.
The fire cast a soft orange glow across his face, softening his features and emphasising his immense beauty.
He’d changed out of his damp t-shirt into a black shirt.
He looked like the handsome prince out of a fairy tale.
My heart fluttered. My adrenaline spiked. I realized I was gawking at him for about a second too long. I dropped my eyes to the floor.
Be cool, be cool.
My hungry eyes demanded I look at him. It was a battle I’d already lost. I was not a clumsy person by any means, but I was distracted by him and somehow my foot missed the step.
I began to hurtle forward. The stairs rushed toward my face.
I gasped, shot my arms out in front of me, and squeezed my eyes shut.
Oh God. I was going to hit the ground in front of him.
Strong arms wrapped around my body. I was no longer falling. I was settled against a warm, hard chest. He’d moved like lightning to get the bottom of the stairs. His wine glass left on the mantle.
I was wide-eyed, panting, and my heart bounded against my rib cage.
He grinned. “Perhaps you should be a little more careful, Amelia.”
I blushed brighter than his wine. Mortified, I pulled myself from his arms, averting my gaze.
“Shit, thanks,” I muttered, straightening my t-shirt. My legs felt weak as I moved to the couch and sat down.
“Never mind, I’m beginning to think you need a full-time babysitter once the threat is removed. Caught in fires, falling down stairs, for the life of me I can’t work out how you’ve survived this long.”
I rolled my eyes, fidgeting with an invisible thread on one of the cushions. “It may come as a huge surprise, but I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly.”
Cocky ass. I threw the cushion at him. He caught it easily and threw it back. I caught it with my left hand. There were three cushions on the couch, I used my mind to pick them up and hurled them at him; he caught all three one-handed with blinding speed.
“Surely you can do better than that?”
“Oh, I can,” I smiled smugly. While he’d been focused on the cushions, I’d already telekinetically raised a bottle of water over his head. With my mind and a movement of my hand I tipped the bottle forward. But I wasn’t skilled enough to control it, the bottle hit his head with a thud.
His grabbed it in a millisecond, but not before water splashed onto his hair, trickling down over his face. His eyes widened in surprise.
I laughed.
He was on top of me, bottle held above my head ready to pour what remained before I even realized what’d happened.
My back met the couch. I giggled. “No. No, I’m sorry. Come on, I just had a shower, I’m dry.”
I pushed against his chest. It was like pushing against a brick wall. A warm one, with muscles and a beating heart, but unmovable all the same.
A cheeky look crossed his face, I had not seen this playful side of him before. Wings flapped in my stomach. Inside I felt so light I could fly.
“You lose,” he chuckled, as he tipped the water over my head.
Cold water ran down my over face. I spluttered and laughed.
We locked eyes. The laughter faded. My heart stopped beating.
He was inches from my face. Close, but not close enough. His warm breath kissed my nose. A tinge of wine and something sweet. His pupils darkened, until the green became a night teased forest.
He leaned forward and his lips smoldered against mine.
They were as soft as velvet and silk. But they pressed against mine as if they were claiming every part of me.
I was on fire. Blazing with lust. I moaned, pulling his body onto mine.
I was swept away. Desire obliterated everything else.
Cognitive thought shunted to a halt. There were no sounds but the fast beat of my heart pounding against my chest. All I could taste was his sweet mouth, all I could feel were his lips caressing mine.
His hands cradled the back of my head, sweeping my hair into disarray.
His kiss was hot and heavy and breathtaking.
My body went into overdrive. My veins zinged like my blood was made of fruit tingles. Damp warmth swirled between my legs. I spread my legs and wrapped them around him. His hard groin pressed against my core. I shivered all over and clawed at his back.
Then he was gone. The heat disappeared. My hands were strangely empty. I blinked, panting, staring into the empty space he’d just filled. He stood by the fireplace with his back to me and downed the glass of wine.
My cheeks flared. My heart dropped into my lap. My self-esteem fell with a resounding thud to the floor.