“Har har,” I reply, while my eyes slip closed once more. “Um, Casper, can you do me another favor?”
“Anything,” he immediately responds. No hesitation when I need him.
“Whether I do this correctly or not, I’m thinking I’m probably going to pass out or close to it,” I confess. The ground feels like it’s slowly spinning beneath me, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t have anything to do with magic. “Can you ask one of the guys to come get me? I really don’t want to sleep this off on the girls’ bathroom floor.”
“Sure, yeah. Be right back,” he promises, then poofs away.
“Last one,” I murmur, cracking an eye to look at the two who started this whole mess. Yeah, okay, I did this, but damn it, they made me mad. “Why do people have to suck?”
They have no answer—then again, they’re still quite busy trying to scream with mouths that won’t open.
Let’s go with the last five minutes. No one will worry too much about not remembering five minutes, right?
This time, I imagine the events of the last five minutes like images slowly fading into nothingness, everyone suddenly calming, and with a shrug, going back to their days, unaware that magic has touched their lives.
Not nearly as clever as the last time, I command, “Forget.”
I drop to the floor with this last wave of magic, no longer having enough strength to sit up. Through cracked lids, I see the girls haven’t moved, and right before I pass out, I mutter, “I release you.”
Chapter 19
Callie
My breathing grows heavy. Heat ripples across my skin, feeling Donovan pressed tight against my back, with my ass cradled against his groin. Unconsciously, I rock against Nolan’s thigh between my legs as a growing ache blooms inside me.
“Angel?” Donovan murmurs against my skin.
Nolan runs his hand from around Donovan’s neck and down his shoulder, while multicolor party lights flicker on the beads of sweat that drip down our bodies. There’s an intoxicating mixture of masculine scents, Donovan’s musk and leather blending with Nolan’s cologne and engine grease, and it leaves my head spinning.
“Callie…” Donovan purrs my name, his gravelly voice saturated with wicked humor.
I lace my fingers with his, leading the hand that is exploring the flesh of my right leg to wrap low around my waist. The leather of my costume is thin, and I can feel his scorching heat through the material.
“I don’t know what’s running through your mind right now,” he teases, “and as much as I’m enjoying this, you should probably wake up now.”
His sculpted abs tense and shake underneath my fingertips.Wait. My hands aren’t on his stomach.
Jolting awake, I find my hand is underneath Donovan’s shirt, my fingers spread wide, and I have no idea which direction it was heading.
“Shit!” I squeak and leap away, smacking the top of my head against his chin.
“Ow, fuck,” he exclaims, rubbing at his jaw.
Like a frightened squirrel, my gaze bounces off the walls, taking in my surroundings in milliseconds. I’m home in bed, underneath the blankets, while Donovan lies on top of them. He’s reclined against the headboard with a book in his free hand, looking at me with a knowing smirk on his lips.
“Shut up,” I grumble, pushing my embarrassingly sweaty hair out of my face.
His smirk spreads to a Cheshire grin, and he asks, “Good dream?”
“Shut up,” I repeat, the words trailing into a mortified whine.
“Careful. I hear that’s what got you in trouble in the first place,” he warns, his body starting to shake with contained mirth.
I grab my pillow and smack him with it. Then, when he starts laughing out loud, extolling that a sex dream is completely normal—especially if he has a starring role—I smack him more, my fluffy weapon hitting him repeatedly with soft thuds.
Ever since I caught Donovan and Nolan together, I’ve been trying to dissect the Halloween dance and what it could’ve meant. I watched them closely for clues, some hint to their feelings for each other and/or possibly me, but they frustratingly continued to act as if nothing happened. I was, of course, way too embarrassed to ask outright. With the scent of Donovan’s cologne still very prevalent in my sinuses, I think my mind took a more visceral approach in its analysis through my dream.
Fuck puberty. Fuck hormones. Fuuuuuck!
