But that’s a worry for later.
“Do you think our tea is done?” I ask Rowan, shooing him back inside.
He follows me, flying through the little cottage like he owns it. “I think it was done five minutes ago, but how would I know? You didn’t set a timer.”
Chapter 3
No Sense of Humor, But at Least He’s Handsome
Isit cross-legged on the bed and refold T-shirts as I take them out of my suitcase. My phone lies on the comforter near my thigh. A cord connects it to my earbuds because I can’t keep track of wireless ones.
“It’s fine,” I tell my mom. “The house is cute, and Chester likes the yard.”
It’s after ten here, but it’s only seven at home. I ate a peanut butter sandwich for dinner and started the daunting task of unpacking. It’s absurd, but it feels like Laverna’s antique, pretty things don’t want to mingle with my department store belongings.
“I hate that you’re all the way across the country,” Mom says, “alone in that old house.”
But I’m not alone. Though I’m not sure it’s the right time to bring up my geriatric, feathered roommate. Neither of my parents will be excited to learn Laverna made me the legal guardian of an adult, male mage.
“It’s really cozy,” I tell her instead.
And though it’s not a lie, it’s not completely true, either. The house is adorable, but it doesn’t feel like home.
I think of the bedroom I left back in Washington. The only thing that’s changed since I was a young girl is the bedding. The walls are pale pink, and my furniture is white. I had a collection of Nadine’s pinecone hedgehogs perched along the top of the dresser.
I brought one with me, and he now lives on my nightstand. I smile at him, though he’s making me a little sad.
Opting to travel light, I left most of my books. I wish I had brought more than a few favorites, though I do have an entire library loaded on my e-reader.
“Dad and I will visit you soon, all right?” Mom says, probably picking up on my mild distress. She’s good at that. “Try to get some sleep. If you have trouble, drink a mug of warm cocoa—the caffeine-free one, all right?”
That's my mom’s solution to nearly everything—hot chocolate. She’s an autumn pixie, the embodiment of cozy.
A sharp pang of homesickness makes my eyes sting, but I fight it back. If I’m not careful, I’ll cause a rainstorm, and the weather people hate that. We make their jobs so difficult.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promise, preparing to hang up.
“Love you, Kit.”
“Love you!” Dad echoes from somewhere near Mom.
I smile, missing them. “Love you, too.”
When we end the call, I immediately notice the silence. My parents live near the ocean. The crash of the waves on the rocks was the soundtrack to my dreams.
But here, there’s no ocean. Not even a nearby creek. It’s so quiet, I can hear Chester’s soft, rhythmic breathing as he sleeps at the foot of the bed.
It should be peaceful, but it feels empty instead.
I don’t know where Rowan is. Probably out, since it’s night and he’s an owl. At least I hope he’s out. A man trapped in abird’s body is still a man, and it’s weird to think I’m going to sleep with a stranger in the house.
I keep the light on, scared to be by myself even though I’m a grown woman. When the first few raindrops patter against the window, I groan and pull out my phone. Maybe it was supposed to rain?
But no, there are no clouds in the forecast.
“Darn it,” I say softly, curling up on my side and pulling my knees to my chest.
I haven’t brought rain since I was a child. The city council is going to hate me—I’m probably breaking one of their rules.
