DidIreallyjustknock out a man with my rolling pin,Tangled-style?
I thought he’d move out of the way. I hadn’t meant to make contact, but surely even a hit on the head—no, it was more like a bop, of the dainty variety—wouldn’t knock him out.
I study his slumped figure against the counter. Apparently, I wield more strength in my right arm than I’m aware of.
What do I do now? Call the cops? I’ve never knocked someone out before.
My thoughts are thwarted when an angry mob of…witches?…runs by my front door. I glance at the man again. In his slumped position the white wig has fallen off his head, but the hair is still covering his face.
What is going on? And why isn’t he moving?
I killed him!
No, no, no. A new business cannot have this kind of attention, I’ll never make it.
Seriously London? Thebusiness?
Right. Not the most pressing issue.
I crouch down by the man, reaching for his neck and then yelling at my phone to call 911, but it’s in the kitchen so I don't think it registers.
All the stupid hair is in the way. I yank off his wig and reach around again. My fingers shake, but I press them into his neck.I hope he showers regularly.
His pulse practically jumps through his skin at my touch. Or is that my pulse in my fingertips? Why can’t I tell?
What’s wrong with me? I toss my hair over my shoulder and angle my cheek next to his face. I should be able to hear his breath or feel it.Ifhe’s alive.
Oh, please be alive.
I lean closer until my cheek brushes his nose. Was that a rush of warm air? I press a little closer.
“Are we about to kiss?”
I scream and jerk back while simultaneously slapping him across the face.
“Ow,” he groans. “On second thought, I don’t think this abusive relationship is going to work for me.”
The blood slows in my veins. I know that voice. That arrogant teasing lilt and the inability to take anything seriously. And quite frankly, it explains a lot of things.
Primarily the stupidity.
“Sean Bentley?”
His eyes flit to mine, brown and mischievous as the day I met him. He offers me his boyish flirtatious smile. He’s grown up. There are harder edges where there used to be soft lines. But the years have been more than kind to him. Even wearing a women’s robe, he’s ruggedly handsome enough to make my heart flutter like I'm seventeen again.
“Maybe this day has been magical, after all. You know who I am. Might I have the pleasure of knowing who you are?”
“Oh, you know me.”
He tries to sit up but grimaces in pain and decides to stay instead. “I never would have forgotten such beauty.”
I roll my eyes and consider hitting him with the rolling pin again. “Well, clearly you did.”
“Wait,” his eyebrows furrow like he’s trying to place me. I’m sure the hit to the head isn’t helping the process. He tries to stand again and before I can think better of it, I stand and offer him a hand up.
He grabs my hand and reaches out like he’s waiting for the other one.
That’s when we both freeze. I can’t offer him more than that. But what I’ve got is enough.
