SHIVER: 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror (54 page)

“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.

I stared at
my yellow and black reflection in the full-length mirror on my closet door.

“This? Why?” I plucked at the black tutu barely covering my ass. “Sexy bee? Sexy insect?” I shrieked. “If I was going as a sexy insect, shouldn’t it be a praying mantis?”

Sam glared at me. “No, they eat their males after sex. Not the message you want to be sending tonight.” She snort-laughed. “Bee sending,” she repeated.

“Help. I can’t be a bee. The puns will kill me.”

“Hold on, I’m not finished with the costume.” She placed a headband with a tiny, black witch’s hat on my head.

“I don’t get it.”

“Think about it.”

“I am! I look ridiculous.” Neon-colored diamond-patterned tights, the aforementioned microscopic tutu, and a yellow and black striped top. “Don’t forget these.” I turned to show her my wings.

“You’re bee-witched!” She clapped her hands together. “Get it? It’s brilliant.”

“If you do say so yourself.” I fought a smile. “Fine. It’s clever.”

“Andrew’s going to love it!”

“Does he have a bee fetish I’m not aware of? A passion for all things honey?” I tried to tug my nonexistent skirt lower only to have my hands swatted away.

“Not that I know of, but you look super hot. He won’t be able to resist.”

The last part was true. The love spell had clearly worked. Our chocolate date and the kiss proved it. He’d sat next to me in class again. We’d exchanged numbers, and texted a bunch of times.

Which was all great, but it wasn’t.

Did he really like me, or was it the spell?

There was only one way to find out. I picked up the heart charm and tied it around my neck.

“Red doesn’t really go with the bee thing, Maddy.” Sam wrinkled her nose. “Do you have to wear it tonight?”

“Listen, I’m letting you dress me up as a bee, I mean a bee-witch. Let me wear the necklace. Please?”

“If you insist.” She adjusted her corset and top hat. “Do you think Tate will like this?”

“I have no idea, but he’s a guy, with eyes, so I think he’ll love it.”

Sam was dressed as some sort of time-traveling, Steampunk, corset wearing hottie. She looked like a badass milkmaid.

I looked like a bee. Wearing a hat. At least my legs looked great.

***

Jack-o’-lanterns
and luminaries lined the long driveway to the enormous stone mansion the Winthrops called a summerhouse. It was a far cry from the two-bedroom place my grandparents had on the Cape. Eerie white forms hung in the trees and swayed in the breeze. Shadowy figures spilled out of the house onto the lawn and driveway. It was impossible to identify anyone given the non-existent light, fake smoke, and costumes. A pair of sexy black cats dashed past us, squealing and holding their tails. Sam’s gaze met mine, and even in the dark I could see her roll hers.

“Where do you think Tate and Andrew are?” I asked as we approached the stone staircase leading up to the front door. “We’ll never find them.”

“We just got here, don’t lose faith yet.” She took my hand and led me inside, where the crowd filled the dark, paneled grand foyer and music pulsed from multiple speakers. “Let’s find the bar,” she shouted.

I allowed myself to be led deeper into the maze of hallways, feeling the urge to leave a trail of breadcrumbs behind me to find my way out again. We passed open doors into rooms that might be called studies or dens, each filled with a random assortment of costumed partygoers. Sexy bunnies chatted up rotting zombies while doctors flirted with sexy nurses. Hamilton was there dressed as a pimp, complete with hideous purple zebra pimp hat. Gross. If this love spell and magic thing did really work, I planned to buy a spell to give him boils. Or make his dick shrivel up smaller, if that was possible. He didn’t have the cock to back up his cocky attitude.

After asking a hobbit about the bar, we stepped outside on a large back terrace overlooking the dark beach and black water beyond. A huge bar—filled with bizarre looking jars of smoking potions—stood off to the left. The crowd was only a few people deep when we joined the line. I scanned the space for a familiar tall, lanky form with pale hands and long fingers while Sam chatted up a sexy Tardis in line ahead of us. Still no sign of our hosts.

“What’s your potion tonight?” a familiar voice asked.

My head whipped around so fast my witch’s hat almost flew off. Andrew stood behind the bar in a suit and trench coat.

“Maddy?”

“Andrew? Or should I say, Dr. Who?”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“He’s Doctor Who,” the sexy Tardis scoffed at us while tilting her cleavage in Andrew’s direction. The fact she had cleavage while dressed as a blue British telephone booth earned her bonus points for execution.

Andrew’s eyes widened and he averted his eyes as fast as possible.

“I heard you the first time and that’s why I asked who?” Sam said.

“He’s Who,” I said.

“Who?”

“I’m Who,” Andrew said, laughing.

“Sam, his costume is Doctor Who, from the show of the same name,” I explained.

Sam’s head ping-ponged between us like she was watching a tennis match. “Oh, one of those geeky shows you watch. Explains the coat.”

Andrew scowled at her. He turned to me and asked, “And what are you? A sexy bee?” His lips curled with a grin.

“Ugh, no. I’m—”

“She’s bewitched!” Sam blurted out, still extremely pleased with her idea.

Andrew smiled and leaned across the bar. I mirrored him, moving closer so he could speak directly in my ear. I may have hip-checked the Tardis out of the way on accident. Oops.

“You’ve bewitched me, heart and soul,” he said, quoting Mr. Darcy. I nearly swooned, and did in fact sway on my ridiculously high heels.

I blinked a few times as he smiled and stood to his full height. Bells tinkled and my eyes sought out their source, but I couldn’t find it. Instead, I said the first thing that came to mind, “You’re eyes are different. They’re blue. Or gray.” They reminded me of someone else’s eyes, but I couldn’t place them.

He stared at me for a few seconds. “They’re contacts. You like?” He batted his ridiculously long, dark lashes, rendering me speechless for a moment.

“Maddy?” he asked.

I gave him a shy smile. “I do, they’re very pretty, but I miss your glasses.”

“Good to know.” He grinned at me. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, what’s your potion?” He pointed at the labels on a row of enormous glass jars.

Number nine looked pink and much less scary than the black number thirteen or the milky green number six. “Number nine, please,” I said.

“Excellent choice,” Tate said, appearing from out of nowhere. He was dressed in all black with a long black cape; his dreads were pulled back and tucked under a tall top hat. “The love potion.”

My mouth dropped open, and Sam snickered beside me before ordering the same thing. Tate handed us both smoking glasses of pink liquid, which tasted like strawberries.

While Sam and Tate chatted, Andrew served drinks to a teen wolf and a fairy. I watched him and played with my heart charm. If I took it off now and dropped it, would it seal my fate with Andrew? Did I want him to fall in love with me because of a spell or potion? Would it even count as real love?

Before I could dwell, Sam was tugging me to the dance floor. I waved to Andrew before we were swallowed up by the crowd. The music was louder inside and I lost myself to the beat. We danced our way into the center of the crowded space. I grabbed Sam’s hands and raised our arms in the air, giggling together as we bumped hips. People jostled us and we broke apart. A monkey man spun Sam around, and then gave her a banana. I laughed so hard I bent to catch my breath… and felt the ribbon at my neck loosen and give way before it fell to the floor.