This is what Julia meant. Cosmos wanted magic, looked for it everywhere, and now he’s found it. That’s why he’s been so interested in me.
“Eventually, my mom and sisters sat me down and had an intervention. They told me I needed to stop looking for magic and start paying attention to the person, not the circumstances. Then, I met you and?—”
“You fell right back into your old ways.” I curl in on myself, feeling sick to my stomach. This whole thing makes a lot more sense. Cosmos isn’t really attracted to me. He’s attracted to what we can do. To the magic of it.
“No, Hazel. No.” He hurries back over to me andtakes my hands. “Don’t you see, avoiding you after I talked to Julia wasn’t just about hospital ethics. She reminded me of what I’d done before. So, I took a step back and started watching you.” He turns one of my hands over and kisses my palm, then does the same with the other. “I even recruited Julia as a bit of a spy.”
“What?”
“Not really a spy,” he hedges. “But she spent some time with your mom and saw you more than I did at the beginning. So, I asked her to tell me what she thought of you and whether you were someone I should avoid. She couldn’t find anything to object to. She even admitted she likes you.”
“She could have fooled me.”
He tugs me forward, bringing my hands to his chest. “She’s not the type to jump into things, so she’s not happy about how fast we’re moving. But this doesn’t feel fast to me. I would have seduced you the moment I saw you if I could have.”
“Seduced me, huh? And what exactly would that have looked like?” I try to hide my lingering insecurity behind a cage of playfulness, but I’m not sure I’m pulling it off.
He quirks a crooked grin in my direction. “I think you know exactly what my seduction looks like.”
I swallow and try to calm the pounding of my heart. It’s suddenly way too warm in here. I try to pull my hands away from his chest so I can get some distance, catch my breath, but he keeps me firmly in place.
“With most of my girlfriends, I told them I loved them within a week,” he confesses.
My jaw drops open, and I gawk at him. I can’t imagine telling someone I loved them that fast. It took me five months to tell Kane I loved him, and in all the time we were together, even after I moved in with him, he never said it back.
Cosmos is unfazed by my reaction. He shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.”
This is crazy. I know he’s trying to convince me he’s not jumping into anything, but I can see the emotion all over his face. His eyes aren’t just glazed with desire, but something sweeter, softer. Genuine care. Is that care really for me or just an illusion brought on by living out his childhood dream of sharing magic with someone?
“I kind of stalked you.” His tan cheeks turn the softest pink.
I look down at my shoes, unsure what to make of all this, but he doesn’t let me look away. He tilts my chin back up.
“I’ve watched you from afar for over a month now,” he says. “I saw how kind you were to the nurses. I learned that you have a dry, sarcastic streak that you rarely let out, except with your mom, or when you’re overtired. You make the most amazing hot chocolate. And you crinkle your nose whenever you’re confused or irritated.” He smoothes a finger over the bridge of my nose. “You’re doing it right now, which is making me very nervous, since I can’ttell whether I’ve confused you or annoyed you. Which is it, Hazel? Please put me out of my misery.”
“I don’t know.” I feel like a match that can’t decide if it’s going to spark or sputter out. He didn’t say love, but I get the feeling that’s only because he doesn’t want to scare me. But I’m definitely scared.
He may have noticed all these little things about me, but he doesn’t know me. Not really. What happens once he does and the illusion pops?
Not only that, but now I’m worried about him, too. Worried that eventually, when I can’t keep my emotions under control, I’ll have an outburst or breakdown that will trample all over his beautiful, tender heart. What happens when I inadvertently hurt this gorgeous man who wears his heart on his sleeve?
He doesn’t know how emotional I can get, how anxious I always feel, how unstable I can be. He won’t be able to handle me, and I’m going to break him. I can see it already. I don’t want it to happen, but it feels like we’ve already gone too far. No matter what I do now, he’s going to end up with that lovely heart bleeding all over his shirtsleeve.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
By the time the sun creeps through my window, my anxiety is shining at full force. My dinner with Cosmos’ family was a disaster. His mom was a sweetheart, but other than that I’m pretty sure the rest of them hate me… and then, there’s Cosmos. And his confession.
When he first told me about his obsession with his parent’s love story and the magic they had, I thought it was alarming, but kind of sweet. Now, it’s like he wrote a single word on a blank page, and all night my sleepless mind multiplied that word into a sentence, and then a paragraph, and then an entire story of anxiety and impending doom. A story that tangles my stomach and knots my heart. A story that inevitably ends with me sobbing my eyes out.
Despite the early hour, I crawl out of bed and head to the kitchen to make coffee. I don’t want to wake Mom, but I can’t just lie around staring at theceiling anymore. I press the button on the already-prepped coffeemaker and open the cabinet to get a mug, still lost in thoughts about Cosmos.
“What are you doing up?”
I scream, and the mug crashes to the floor. Thankfully—miraculously—it doesn’t break. Mom peeks her head up over the back of the couch. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Nope. Just wanted to scare me to death.” I pick up the mug and set it in the sink, then circle the couch to get a good look at Mom. “Why aren’t you in bed? Is something wrong? Are you feeling okay?” I place a hand on her forehead, checking for a fever. She bats it away.
“I’m fine. Just uncomfortable. Came out here for a change of scenery and decided to read.” She holds up the latest book from Aunt Joan. I sit down on the coffee table and try not to notice how pale she looks, or how she keeps flexing and pointing her foot and adjusting her position.
