Page 29 of Accidentally Engaged
Well, shit. I’m already close now, too. “I still didn’t get protection. I should have. I can’t just pull out here, in some guy’s business.”
Chloe turns back around, seizing my hand to pull me along, down into the dark shadows of the barn that smells like old, warm hay and rusty metal. “Just put every drop inside of me, then.”
“Does using your powers make you horny?” I have to ask it. I regret it the second I say it, but it’s too late now.
“No, but imagining their faces when they realize that you’re twice the man they’ll ever be and that you don’t have to wine and dine me in the tropics to make me crazy about you lights my fire.”
In seconds, we’re in an old stall, hidden away behind tons of boxes, and I’m holding Chloe’s hips. Before I can even rub her, she thrusts her hips backwards, and I’m sinking into her, trying not to moan at the silken paradise now gripping my cock.
“When we’re done, want me to call Jerk Number Three?” she laughs as she rocks against me.
“God, I love you... and in case you were wondering, believe me, I know not to piss a banshee off.”
And after she calls Camwiddie, I’m turning off my phone for the rest of the best second date ever.
Hazards of Being a Banshee: You STILL know when the s*** is about to hit the fan.
“Eric Clapton,Cream,The Doors, Chopin, Shostakovich, Paganini... That’s just the first six!”
I smile and lick my peach swirl ice cream cone as Jared crows over the box of records in their creased jackets with faded corners. “Eclectic collection.”
“Yeah, but I like them all. I wonder who had all these beauties, and in such good condition, too.”
I pass my fingers lightly over the old cardboard box. I get images. Vague. Fuzzy.
“College professor. Music department, here at Antonia College. Big collection. Donated when he died.”
Jared stares at me.
Was that too spooky? “I can’t do it all the time,” I squeak. “Sometimes not at all. Only if the object had one owner for years, or it was a very personal item. I’m also wrong sometimes.” It’s true, sometimes I’m wrong, sometimes I miss things, some things I just don’t connect to, like there’s something blocking me from tapping in even if I wanted to.
But there’s no fear on his face. Just awe. When he puts the box down on the roof of the car to retrieve his keys from his pocket, the records tilt forward in the box, and there’s a little sticker on the back of each record’s cover. “Dr. John Rothenstein. Chair of the Department of Music Education.”
“I didn’t read it. I wasn’t playing a prank,” I say quickly, suddenly worried he’ll think that I’m somehow... fake.
Brains are so stupid. First, I worried about him thinking I was really supernatural, and now I’m afraid he’ll think I’m not.
“No, honey, I know. That’s cool. But it must be annoying. Does it happen with everything you pick up?”
I shake my head. “I have to try. I usually don’t. It would be too much to search for the history of every item I encounter, but I often get little glimpses of things that have sentimental value, you know?”
“Amazing. You’re like a supernatural historian. Anthropologist, even.” Jared puts the records in the car along with everything else we’ve acquired that afternoon from the four stops we’ve made. They’ve all been fun—one more fun than the others.
“It’s getting dark.” I look up at the sky over Antonia. It’s darkening, with the first stars in the east and sunset in the west.
“Are you chilly?” Jared snuggles up behind me, and I’m instantly lost in a blanket of his warmth.
“Not now. But I think I’m ready to head home. Do you... Do you want to come over for a late-night snack?”
“I’d love to! I could get to know Marmalade better, too.”
“That’s right. And um... you could run next door and get your things if you wanted to spend the night,” I add, fingers shyly tracing around his watch.
“I’d love to.”
When we’re driving back, he tells me, “I’m not in this just because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and you’re way out of my league, and the sex is amazing. Those are... I mean, those are good reasons. Amazing reasons! But I just...” He swallows. “I feel happy with you. Safe with you. I know that sounds weird when someone looks like they could knock a door down just by walking into it, but when you grow up being the heaviest, smartest kid in your class, there’s always someone who thinks they have to say something to make you smaller—physically or mentally. I never feel like you’re going to do that. From the second I heard your song in my head, I knew that. So, um. I was going somewhere with this,” Jared hums to himself, jaw tight as he drives us along windy roads. “You never have to think that I ‘expect’ us to sleep together. Or that I expect us to spend the night together until we’re married. I mean, if!” He grunts, shaking his head as if he’s so irritated with himself. “This is a lot, right? Me clinging to you like moss on a tree all the time?”
Firstly, I’m moved by what a sweet man he is, to reassure me like that, and to also open up about why he feels like he feels. Secondly, he’s wrong. “I like this. I know my first impression wouldn’t have convinced anyone of that, but... Look, in the magical community, you grow up with things like fated mates, destined lovers, soul bonds, and yes, betrothal songs. I’m almost the last one of my friend group to find that. I’ve been alone in this country for twelve years, and well—no. I don’t think it’s too much. I can’t wait to go home with you and listen to your records, and to have you come over.” I put my hand on his thigh and reach across it, delving down. “Idefinitelywant you to spend the night.”
