Текст книги "Shiver : 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror"

Автор книги: Belle Aurora

Соавторы: Penny Reid,Ruth Clampett
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Текущая страница: 26 (всего у книги 39 страниц)

Four

Had Andrew bothered to show up at the party, he would have found me in a corner with a bottle of cider. I doubt he would have recognized me without the red cup.

Sam covered up her disappointment about Tate’s no-show by chatting up every guy there who wasn’t mashing his body or lips against a girl. Or guy. An endless parade of toads marched over to my corner with her encouragement. Not actual toads. Or frogs. Although one of them had buggy eyes and smelled like a pond, so he might have been a real toad in disguise. My grandmother’s words of dating wisdom came to mind.

“You have to kiss a lot of toads to find your Prince Charming.”

This from a woman who met and married a boy at seventeen. How many toads could she have kissed in western Massachusetts? Her town didn’t even have a stop sign.

Most of the toad-guys had names beginning with E’s: Ethan, Eli and Ev were followed by Eddie and Edgar, who didn’t appreciate being asked if he was named for Poe.

Over loud music, Poe sounds a lot like poo. Apparently.

No Prince Charming tonight.

I finished my cider and looked for Sam. I located her in the kitchen talking to a short, skinny guy, who was enthusiastically telling her all about his ninja costume for Halloween.

“I’m working on the suction cups for the hands and feet.”

“Suction cups?” Sam faked interest.

“For climbing buildings.” He didn’t say ‘duh’, but it was implied.

“Oh, right! Look, it’s Madison!” She hugged me and whispered, “Help me.”

By the time we broke apart, Ninja Boy had moved on to sharing his ninja plans with the girl to his left.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“They might still show.”

“It’s almost one o’clock. They’re not coming. And neither is Prince Charming.”

“Were you expecting him tonight? Halloween is a couple weeks away. It’s too early for men in tights.”

I laughed. “Not by much. A few more weeks and this town will be covered with them.”

She shuddered. “I wish you were joking.”

New Orleans had Mardi Gras; Salem had Halloween – a month-long party downtown with every sexy version of a normal costume possible. Last year we saw nine women dressed as the sexy version of the Supreme Court. In hot pants.

“Me too,” I agreed.

“We need to start planning our costumes.” She tugged me out of the kitchen and down the narrow hall where the parade of toads were lined up with their beers waiting for the bathroom. At least they were housebroken.

Sam continued plotting out her costume as we walked home. The night had turned cold and I wished I had a coat instead of a sweater.

“Shouldn’t you be picking our robes for a coven gathering in the woods or something? I don’t think Wiccans approve of sexy cat costumes.”

“I’m multi-denominational when it comes to Halloween.”

“No candy at coven gatherings?”

She chuckled, knowing she’d been busted. “And zero cute guys.”

“No guy witches?”

“There are some, but most of them are ancient and smell of patchouli.”

We both stuck out our tongues.

“Maybe instead of Prince Charming, we’ll meet a handsome monster, wicked cool Phantom of the Opera, or smoking hot Beast.” She sighed.

“Stalkers and kidnappers? Are you sure you didn’t watch princess movies?” I asked.

“You have no romance. Zero. You’re too young to be so cynical. And too pretty.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Dismissing every compliment you’re given. You’re gorgeous. Like a totally hot Audrey Hepburn.”

“Meaning flat chested and pointy?"

“No, petite. With the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you earlier, I think Andrew approved.”

It was my turn to sigh. “I doubt it. He didn’t even show at the party.”

“He and Tate probably had other plans. Like playing D&D. Or Magic.” She giggled and sighed. “Can you imagine?”

I could, and the thought of gorgeous guys being into role playing games was both ridiculous and kind of hot, depending on the role play.

“You don’t think they have girlfriends, do you? I’ve never seen Tate with anyone, but that doesn’t really mean anything.” Her uncertainty was unfamiliar.

“That would suck if they did.”

“Tate’s totally dreamy. He’s like a modern day philosopher. Did you know he rides a skateboard?”

“Nothing says wicked smart philosopher like an old school long board.” I giggled. “You have it bad.”

She sighed again and nodded. “I don’t know why, but it’s so bad it’s good. We might need to crash his Halloween party this year and charm him.”

“We?”

“Trust me, this is our year, Maddy. I can feel it in my bones.” She tapped her head.

I looked up and found a star in the clear sky and made a wish.

Please let Andrew be single.

And not be into Dungeons & Dragons.

Thank you.

Five

Andrew sat across from me at seminar the following week. Hamilton took his old seat at the far end of the table, out of range for whispered or mumbled slurs. Unfortunately, that didn’t keep him from making asshat comments for the whole group to hear. Andrew didn’t contribute to the discussion of the witch trials, and after last week’s outburst, I kept my comments to a minimum.

My only interaction with Andrew during class was when he loaned me a pen after I couldn’t find one in my bag.

When class ended, I found myself standing next to Hamilton.

“This class blows,” he said.

Not thinking before speaking, I asked, “Why are you even in this class?”

Hamilton’s gaze landed on my boobs, which were thankfully protected beneath at least three layers of clothing. “Duh. Wicked easy A, like that Hester chick. Dude, it’s about New England – I’m from here. And it’s in English. No brainer.”

My jaw should have hit the floor with how fast and low it dropped open. Hamilton’s eyes held lust as he stared at my open mouth.

Unbelievable. I clamped my mouth shut and crossed my arms. “Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath and stepped around him. Unfortunately, I should have held my breath. A wall of Axe body spray assaulted me as I passed him. Gag.

“Can you believe that idiot?” a deep, rumble of a voice asked once I’d hit the fresh air of the hallway.

I snorted and tried to cover it with a laugh, but it was more of a snort-cough. I coughed to cover up the snort-laugh-cough.

Andrew chuckled and held open the door for me.

Wow. No guy had ever done that for me before.

He matched his stride to mine as we exited and crossed the quad. I stared at his Chucks and long legs in worn jeans as we walked along together, trying to think of something to say.

“How was the party on Saturday?” he asked.

“Okay.” I shrugged.

“Sorry we didn’t show up. Tate’s planning his Halloween party and roped me into helping him.”

Tate’s Halloween parties were legend. His family owned a summer house near Marblehead, a gigantic stone, Gothic place with a wide lawn leading down to the rocky beach.

Or so I’d heard. I’d never been invited to his parties before – neither had Sam, but she knew every detail.

“Not into Halloween?” I asked, hoping to sound interested but not desperate.

He shook his head. “It’s okay. I get a little tired of all the mayhem downtown every year. Same witch hats and vomit in the streets gets a little old after a couple of decades.”

“Are you from here?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of. I grew up here, but my dad insisted I attend private school in Boston, so I spent most of the year with my dad in the city. I think he really just wanted me out of Salem.”

My eyebrows rose in a silent question.

“Long, boring story. Really boring fighting parents kind of story.” His voice had changed and he didn’t meet my eyes.

There was more, but we’d reached the campus center where I was meeting Sam. I reached inside my bag and offered him his pen.

“Keep it,” he said with a smile. “Consider it a gift.”

I smiled and thanked him.

Maybe not weird, but Andrew wasn’t typical.

* * *

Saturday felt more like summer than the first day of fall. A hazy sun and humid air greeted me on my morning jog around campus. Jogging was girl code for walking and drinking coffee with Sam. I sipped my extra-large skinny vanilla latte and listened to her share the details of last night’s date with some guy from her statistics class.

“Everything was about the odds and percentages of relationships working out. He offered to show me a spreadsheet.”

“Sounds like a keeper. No second date?”

“Maybe. He was a pretty decent kisser.”

“You kissed him?”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Statistically, the odds were in his favor he’d be a good kisser.”

“Math is weird.” I laughed and picked up my pace.

“Good Goddess! What’s with the actual jogging?” She caught up with me. “We don’t really run, remember?”

“I thought maybe we could benefit from some physical exertion.”

“You need to get some action. And soon.”

“Me running a 5K is more likely to happen before that.”

“What’s going on with Wildes? My intuition tells me he likes you.”

I’d already told her about our chat after class, and of course she had witnessed the smudging incident. “He’s had chances to ask me out and hasn’t yet.”

“He seems shy. Maybe he’s been waiting for you to make the first move?”

“In what fairy tale does the princess ever make the first move?”

She stared at me blankly.

“Right, you wouldn’t know.” I sighed.

“You’re just in a slump. You should come to the Mabon celebration tonight.”

“Lots of dating material amongst the old and patchouli scented?”

“Probably not, but some gratitude and apple pie might help.”

“Nah, but thanks. I’m going to stay home and study.”

* * *

Sam asked me to go with her again after dinner, but I stuck to my plans of studying and maybe watching a few hours of Doctor Who with Grace down the hall. When I dug in my bag for a highlighter, my hand brushed against a small plastic bag. The love spell.

I pulled it out and walked over to the trash can, fully planning to toss it in, but my hand froze.

I had nothing to lose. Andrew had landed in the friend zone. There had to be a guy out there somewhere between Gropemaster Hamilton and Nice-but-Elusive-Wildes.

I opened up the package and poured the contents on my desk. Reading over the instructions, I decided it seemed simple enough. I was supposed to cleanse myself to be in the right mindset. Smudging counted as cleansing, so I skipped that step even though I hadn’t showered today or changed out of my jogging clothes. It wasn’t like I’d worked up a sweat this morning or anything.

I still wasn’t sure why pink peppercorns, but decided to step out of my skepticism box. After I made a circle with them on the desk, I put the love potion oil on the red votive candle while thinking of what I wanted in a man.

Smart.

Funny.

Chivalrous.

Cute, but not a narcissist.

Kind.

Fit.

Andrew’s story about Allison had made me laugh, but I put a saucer under the candle just in case. After the smudging incident, I didn’t want him to discover me in the middle of a love spell induced fire.

While the candle burned, I kept reading. I was supposed to have something personal if the spell was intended to work on a specific person. Next to the candle was the pen I’d borrowed from Andrew earlier in the week. I could use that. Was it personal enough? Was Andrew my intended target? I imagined myself with a bow and arrow aiming it straight at his chest. Nothing to lose. I put the pen inside of the circle and lit the candle. I repeated my list, adding in dark hair and pale skin.

All that was left was a piece of red ribbon and the heart pendant, which were to be worn out in public, preferably at a large gathering of people. According to the instructions, if I dropped the charm, my love would appear.

By magic!

At least the silver heart was pretty. I strung it on the ribbon and set it in my bowl of other jewelry.

I didn’t feel anything different. No gust of wind burst through the window. Nothing tingled or stood up on end. The oil and the candle made the room smell nice, but that was about it. Sighing, I texted Grace to come down when she was ready.

I crumpled up and threw away the spell instructions. I didn’t know what to do about the candle and peppercorns and hoped she wouldn’t notice if I turned off my desk lamp.

Three episodes of David Tenant as the Tenth Doctor and a giant bowl of popcorn later, the candle sputtered out with a blue flame and a few sparks, leaving the room in darkness except for the glow from my laptop. Grace and I both jumped.

“What the hell!” She glanced at the desk, and then at me. “What kind of candle was that?”

“Some random candle Sam had lying around,” I answered nonchalantly, hoping she wouldn’t notice the peppercorns and pen.

“Well, I think it’s a sign to call it a night.” With a yawn and a stretch, she peeled herself off my bed.

When she opened the door to leave, loud voices carried inside from the hall. One of those voices was Sam’s. The other two voices were male.

No.

No.

No.

One of the voices belonged to the owner of the pen currently sitting on my desk.

Crap!

There wasn’t time to slam the door shut and pretend I wasn’t here.

I leapt out of bed and swept the candle, pen, and saucer into my drawer, scattering warm wax and peppercorns everywhere. I was on my hands and knees picking them up when I heard Sam’s voice.

“Maddy? Are you in here? I just saw Grace leave. Hello? Why is the room dark?” She flipped the switch to the hideous overhead fluorescent light, which hummed and flickered to life.

While wondering if I could crawl completely under my desk and hide, it dawned on me my ass was probably sticking up in the air facing the door.

Great.

“Hey, there you are.” Sam’s and two other sets of footsteps crossed the threshold.

Even better.

Tate and Andrew were with her.

Too big to fit under the desk, I shuffled back and knelt, brushing my hair out of my face with the hand not holding peppercorns. “Hey.”

“You okay?” Andrew asked, looking both confused and amused.

“Oh, fine. I dropped something and was trying to find it.”

“In the dark?” Sam asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Did you find it?” Andrew asked.

“No, I’ll look later.” I attempted to straighten my sweatshirt over my running tights. I had to be a mess.

“What’s in your hand?” Tate asked.

“Nothing.” I shoved it behind my back like a toddler.

“Come on, share,” Andrew teased.

They were just peppercorns, not magic beans. “Peppercorns.”

“Random seasonings?” Andrew smirked and tilted his head. “Stealing from the dining hall?”

“Sam steals spoons,” I said to change the subject. I blushed and dumped the contents of my hand into the trash. “What have you three been doing?” I ignored Sam’s scowl.

Andrew’s attention stayed on the trashcan for a few beats before he replied, “We ran into Sam out front. She’s been telling us all about Mabon.”

“It’s fascinating,” Tate added, keeping his eyes on Sam.

She gazed back at him, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. “You should have come, Maddy. It was incredible – out in the woods and lit only with candles. I brought you some totally amazing apple crisp.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Tate was just inviting us to their Halloween party next weekend. Doesn’t that sound wicked cool?” she asked, attempting and almost succeeding in sounding aloof.

“You’ll come, won’t you?” Andrew asked sincerely. “You really should. It’s a great party.”

Tate faced me, echoing the invitation while Sam stood behind him, making begging gestures.

“Sure, of course, we’d love it,” I replied. “Is there a theme?”

“Nah,” Tate said. “Come as your wildest fantasy, darkest fear, or yourself, in a costume. No rules, no expectations. Just be there before midnight.”

“Will you turn back into pumpkins when the clock strikes twelve?” I asked, only slightly kidding.

Andrew stared at me with a serious expression. “Yes.” He held his face still for a moment before his rare smile lit up his eyes and he laughed.

I couldn’t help but return his grin. “Okay. We’ll be there.”

“Great,” Tate and Andrew said at the same time.

As soon as the door clicked closed behind them, Sam did a little jig. “Holy whoopie pies! We’re going to the best Halloween party ever, and got a personal invitation from Tate!”

She grabbed my hands and jumped on my bed. I joined her and we squealed.

After a few minutes of bouncing, we collapsed into a heap on top of my comforter. Our chests heaving and out of breath, we giggled and kicked our legs.

“Do I want to know about the peppercorns?” she asked.

“No.”

“You weren’t doing magic, were you?”

“Of course not. Don’t be silly.”

“Because casting spells on Mabon is powerful stuff. I wouldn’t want you to get it wrong and end up summoning a legion of toads.”

I gulped. “Is that possible?”

“Anything is possible. Like us going to Tate Winthrop’s party!” She fluttered her feet in the air a few times to emphasize her excitement. ““We have to find you a costume tomorrow!”

“What the hell am I going to wear to this party?”

“You need something sexy to wear.”

“Sexy? Really?”

“I know, we’ll make an exception, but something with a lot of leg.”

“Spider?”

“Not legs, just your two. And nothing creepy. Although, Andrew does seem the type to like the dark side. Sexy zombie?”

I laughed. “Sexy zombie nurse? Do animals become zombies? I could be a sexy zombie black cat.” I had to stop because I was laughing at my own joke. “Or bunny. A dead bunny, but sexy.”

“All right, all right. Nothing too sexy or dead. We’ll think of something perfect.”

Six

Beginning the next week, Andrew always sat next to me in seminar. His arm would brush mine when he took notes while I pretended to focus on whatever Dr. Philips said about the three-name author of the week. Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, or Louisa May Alcott… why did so many nineteenth century authors have three names?

“Want to grab a coffee?” Andrew asked as we walked out of the Alcott class. With his hands in his pockets, he seemed unsure of himself, unlike the typical, cool, aloof Andrew.

“I’m supposed to meet Sam,” I said, regretting rejecting him immediately. Wasn’t this what I wished for the other night?

“Oh.” He frowned.

“You could join us,” I offered.

Please let him join us. Andrew wanted to have coffee. With me. I could ditch Sam and explain later. Why hadn’t I thought before I opened my mouth? She’d understand. She would totally do the same and without a second thought if Tate asked her out.

Not that Andrew was asking me out. This wasn’t a date. It was coffee. I wanted to go and was willing to ditch my best friend. I closed my eyes and wished for her to understand before pulling out my phone to text her. However, my screen showed a new text alert from Sam.

*Got a costume idea. Heading into Boston. Sorry to bail on coffee. Catch you later.:)*

“Or not,” I said.

Andrew stopped walking and frowned, waiting for me to finish.

“No, not no. She just canceled.” I grinned, waving my phone in front of me.

His lips lifted in a lopsided smile. “Well, in that case, shall we?” He gestured toward the edge of campus.

“No campus cafe?”

With a shake of his head, he met my eyes. “I know someplace better.”

He led me through the wrought iron gates and past the ivy-covered stone walls, marking the edge of our little campus. After a few twists and turns through streets decorated for Halloween, we stood in front of a tiny house covered in black painted clapboards, diamond patterned panes of glass crisscrossing its small windows. I’d never seen it before. Even with the few stalks of dried corn and stack of white pumpkins made the place appear anything but festive. It looked a little creepy and probably a lot haunted.

“Here?” My voice squeaked.

“Sure. They make the best hot chocolate.” He opened the little door and ducked inside.

The door was that small.

I followed him into the dark space, bells chiming as the door closed behind me.

What’s with all of the bells in this town?

“People think they ward off bad spirits and bring good energy to the home or business,” Andrew answered.

“I asked that out loud?” My cheeks heated.

“Andrew!” A round woman with a frizzy halo of gray hair greeted him with a smile followed by an enveloping hug.

After extracting himself from her voluptuous curves, he introduced us. “Martha, this is my friend, Madison.”

Grinning at him, she extended her hand. “Nice to meet a friend of Andrew’s. Finally.”

I swore his cheeks pinked, but it was too dark to see clearly with the only light coming from the small windows and table lamps with black shades. My eyes slowly adjusted and I could see the walls were actually bookcases lined only with books with dark covers. In the nearest corner there was a barista working an espresso machine. Even the cups were black.

I worried if I dropped something or broke a cup, it would never be found again. “What is this place?”

He pressed his hand against my shoulder to steer me toward a table. “It’s had a lot of names over the years, but everyone calls it the Black Book, though I’m not sure why.”

I laughed as we sat down. “Because it’s completely black outside and in?”

His eyebrows did that furrowing thing where they disappeared into the frames of his glasses. “Huh, I’d never thought of that being the reason. I always figured it was because it was the perfect location for a secret rendezvous.”

Was that what this was? It was dark enough in here to have sex and no one would know.

We were interrupted by the return of Martha bearing two steaming cups and a plate of brownies. At least they looked like brownies. It was hard to differentiate them from the black plate.

“Death by chocolate. Andrew’s favorite,” she announced, squeezing his shoulder.

After she walked away, I said, “She seems fond of you.”

“I’ve known her my entire life. She and my mother are friends.”

“Does your mom still live here?”

“She does.”

I was prying – I could tell by the tightness in his shoulders – but I couldn’t stop myself. He was talking and I wanted to keep him speaking.

“Why don’t you live at home?”

He laughed, but he didn’t smile. “What twenty-one year old wants to live at home with his mother?”

I giggled. “Right. That would be weird.”

“The dorm is probably worse. Freshman are unbelievable.”

“I remember being an idiot first year.”

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but the kneeing incident in the lounge with Hamilton is pretty legendary in Residence Life.”

“Nooo.” I tried to hide underneath the table and realized I wasn’t bendy, so I made myself invisible by covering my eyes with my hands.

He chuckled, and I peeked at him from between my fingers.

“Please say you are teasing.” He didn’t answer, but his eyes danced with amusement. “Does everyone know?”

“I’m sure some of the freshman don’t, but you’re a legend. Own it.”

“This explains my lack of a love life. I’m the girl who knees boys in the balls. No wonder no one has asked me out in ages. I’m cursed.” I gave up the fight and laid my head on the table where I was eye level with the brownies. “At least I can die from chocolate instead of humiliation. Nice knowing you.” I broke off a big bite of brownie and ate it without lifting my head.

Andrew still hadn’t said anything.

I wondered how much chocolate I’d have to consume to actually die.

He tilted his neck to the side to study me. After a few beats, he said, “You’re not cursed.”

I felt a familiar tingle from his gaze. “I wish I could believe you, but I’m beginning to think someone put a hex on me.” I sighed.

He laughed again. “Really?”

“It’s worse than you know.”

“I’d be able to tell, trust me. No hex, no curse.” His hand brushed my arm, sending a shiver over my skin, raising my hair into goose bumps. It was the exact opposite of unpleasant.

“Sam thinks I’m a witch,” I blurted out.

He choked on his hot chocolate.

“I know, right? Something about family ancestors and matrilineal genes or something. I think she’s confusing magic and Judaism.” I lifted my head off the table and sipped my drink, which tasted exactly like melted chocolate.

“That explains the smudging last weekend.”

“Sam is into Wicca this year.”

“And you? Do you believe in magic?”

“Not really.” I met his beautiful brown eyes, which reminded me of warm melted chocolate. There was a chocolate I’d like to die by. Death by Andrew. A familiar feeling fluttered low in my belly and I crossed my legs. It had been ages since anything fluttered.

“Just curses and hexes, but not the good stuff?” he asked, playing with his cup, suddenly interested in studying the grain of the wood on the table.

“Being able to hex someone sounds pretty good to me.” I remembered wishing Hamilton would fall and my delight when he did. “Or do you mean magical potions and flying brooms? Do you believe?”

He shrugged. “Growing up in Salem, you begin to believe in all sorts of things, both light and darkness.”

Sarah and Sam’s words about Mabon echoed in my head … the balance between light and dark. Hexes and love spells.

“I think Philips’ class is getting to me,” I said. “Everything so far this semester has turned into the same conversation.”

“Then let’s talk about something else. You know more about me than I do about you. Tell me something I don’t know.” He smiled, and when he leaned back into the shadows, the low table light emphasized his angular jaw and high cheekbones.

“I’m an English major, but you probably already guessed as much since we have class together. Minor in business.”

“Business, eh?”

“Not a lot of jobs out there for English majors. It was my father’s idea.”

“Smart man.”

“And your major?”

“Bio-chemistry.”

He looked like a chemistry major. All glasses and smarts.

“How does an upper level English class fit into that?”

“I like to read.” He gave me a small smile. “I know, it’s weird.”

I matched his expression. “I like boys who read.”

His smile faltered and was quickly replaced by a grin. “Good to know.”

We chatted about classes, majors, and life in the dorms as the dim light from the windows grew darker. Andrew wasn’t as weird as I’d imagined – more serious than weird. Kind of an old soul. And cute. Very cute. Even in a dark bookstore café.

Okay, that place was a little weird.

Andrew walked me back to my dorm, saying he was meeting up with Tate. When he paused before the wide steps to the entrance, I ended up standing two steps above him, making us about the same height. I could see the layers of brown in his eyes and a slim line of silver near his pupil. He had a fine layer of dark stubble along his pale jaw, which only accentuated the deep red of his lips. Women would kill for his lip color.

“Hey.” He grabbed my hand.

I looked down to where his fingers touched mine, then back up at his face.

My breath stalled at the look in his eyes; it was lust, pure and new.

“I had fun this afternoon.” His eyes flicked down to my lips.

“Me too.” I leaned slightly forward and inhaled, waiting.

This was one of those moments before a kiss. The air between us crackled and our bodies drew together like magnets. Allowing my eyes to drift closed, I slowly exhaled and waited.

His fingers flexed against mine for a second before he let go, but I didn’t feel him step away.

I slowly blinked open my eyes to meet his.

He had an eyelash on his cheek. I reached up to touch it, transferring it to my finger. “Make a wish,” I whispered, holding out the tip of my finger for him to see it.

“You keep it.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes settled back on my lips. When he shook his head, his hair flopped over his eyes. “No.”

I frowned and blew on the lash, but didn’t make a wish. Time paused as I waited for him to do something. I expected him to walk away. I hoped he didn’t. After a moment of quiet with only the sound breeze rustling the dying leaves, I turned to step away. However, he lifted his hand to my cheek to stop me.

“Madison …” he whispered, inching closer to my lips. His eyes remained locked with mine until they began to blur. Once again, I closed my eyes. This time I felt his breath brush lightly across my lips. It was a split second that felt like infinity before his mouth made contact with mine.

I pressed against him. My lips, my chest, my hips were magnets seeking connection. I gasped at the sensation of his hand wrapping around my neck, tilting my head back. He accepted it as invitation, exploring, claiming my mouth with his tongue. My own hands gripped his shoulders before winding their way into the hair at the nape of his neck. It was soft, so soft. I wanted to bury my nose in it.

All too soon he paused and then broke off the kiss, letting his hand drop away from my skin.

I stood for a moment with my eyes closed and my lips parted, waiting for him to kiss me again. The cool air breached the warmth between our bodies, forcing me to open my eyes and accept the kiss was over.

He slowly came into focus. My lips were swollen and my brain fuzzy from the kiss. He looked torn between joy and uncertainty; both emotions flickered across his face.

“I, um …” he paused, “I’ll see you in class.” He turned and swiftly walked away from me.

I guess he wasn’t visiting Tate after all.

I knew one thing for certain: the love spell seemed to be working.

Andrew had totally kissed me. With tongue.