You don’t have a fucking choice.
A quiet twang is followed by the near-silent whoosh of wind as the arrow flies… er, wobbles through the air, and I pump my fist when it strikes him in the kidney. That wasn’t exactly what I was aiming for, but I’ll take it.
Newfound confidence building, my next arrow points at Mandy’s chest. Another ping, another wobbly path, and it…
Clatters to the ground beside her.
“Fuck!” I groan, grabbing another arrow. This one slams into the edge of the countertop and thunks to the floor.
“Well,” Leonard slaps the counter with his open palm, “will I, uh… see you next time?” A dreamy, love-sick expression makes his face turn soft, but without the pull of magic from her, he might not make the move.
And she might not accept if he does.
Stalker territory approaching in three… two…
“Fuckfuckfuck,” I mutter, rapid-firing three more arrows that travel in increasingly worrisome directions.
“Yeah, okay,” Mandy says with a small smile. “Sounds good.”
In a last-ditch effort, I grab a new arrow, taking a few long strides closer as Iyeetthat motherfucker, watching in horror as the wooden shaft bounces off her forehead. She doesn’t even blink as the arrow rebounds, and it’s like slow motion as it falls, tip-down, and pierces her right in the thumb.
She freezes.
He freezes.
I might’ve already passed out, I can’t be sure.
“Hey, Mandy… would you be interested in grabbing dinner one night this week?” Leonard retraces his steps back to the counter.
“OHTHANKFUCK,” I breathe,loudly, and both of them whip to me with wide eyes. I grab the closest thing I can find, which happens to be a fifty-pack of AA batteries. “Thaaaaank fuck I found these,” I ramble, both of them growing increasingly concerned as I pat the plastic-sealed cylinders. “Because… batteries arepre-ttyimportant. Go through a lot of them, y’know? Alot.” My cheeks flush as I realize what I’m saying. “In like, remotes and stuff, not… dildos or vibrating butt plugs.”
My eyes drop to Leonard’s ass.
Whydo I look at his ass when I’m talking about butt plugs? Panic is the thief of logic at the best of times, and this is far from the best.
This is theworst.
His brows are lifted as my gaze sweeps from his butt to his face, and I clear my throat. “In case you, uh, needed to know.”
“We didn’t,” Leonard drones, voice flat.
“Are you… okay? Do you need help?” Mandy’s eyebrows are knitted just as tight as his.
“No, nope, nuh-uh,” I stutter, taking a step back. “Got everything I need right here.” Waving the batteries like a white flag of surrender, I duck behind the display. Harsh chemicals burn my nose from the recent mopping, and too-bright fluorescent lights reflect off the polished concrete floor as I wait, crouching low. My heart lurches in my throat, and I grow increasingly concerned that a heart attack is looming in my near future.
“That was fucking weird,” Leonard mutters, and Mandy responds in a voice so low, I can’t interpret what she says. They both laugh, and I hold my breath as I wait. The longer I interact with someone, the more likely they are to remember me. Just as I worry I overstayed my welcome with my awkward sex toy talk, the magic triggers. It’s nothing physical, just a faint awareness that they’ve forgotten I was ever there.
“So… dinner?” Leonard asks, and a relieved breath blows from my nose as they exchange numbers and make plans. Once Leonard exits through the automatic doors, I teleport myself back home, sagging into my favorite reading chair.
One match and I’m fucking exhausted.
I glance down, finding the batteries still in my hand.
And a thief, apparently.
It has to get better from here.
Chapter 3
