Page 28 of Hexed & Hazy

I guess it could be, but Victoria is a witch, so it’s really just her familiar. That may be more dangerous than a guard dog—familiars are supposed to keep their witch safe, after all.

Victoria herself answers the door, and her wrinkled nose tells me she was probably watching us through the camera on the doorbell. “What do you want? The party isn’t until next weekend.”

The dog’s barking ceases, and he sits at my feet, jumping up to get closer. He’s friendly, but I know better than to pet him without Victoria’s permission.

“We’re not here for the party,” Rowan says smoothly. She’s taking control of the conversation before I put my foot in my mouth. Smart idea. “Could we please come in for a bit? Have a cup of tea?”

It’s such a normal question for Rowan to ask another witch. They’re always bonding over tea. If someone visits the Hawthorne house, no matter which sister opens the door, they have a spot by the fire and a teacup in hand. But Victoria looks at Rowan as if she suggests they jump into the ocean in January. For someone who throws so many parties, she doesn’t seem to have the hospitality Rowan and I are used to.

I didn’t realize that about Victoria when we were dating. It’s always easier to see the upsides of the people I’m hanging out with, but looking back, it all becomes clearer. I wonder how many negatives she started seeing about me…

Maybe she was the one who cast the hex after all.

“Um… sure.” Victoria steps aside, her blonde head held high. “Take off your shoes. Please.”

“Duh.” My mom would kill me if I walked around the house with shoes on; it’s second nature to leave them by the floor, my socks slipping against the hardwood as Victoria leads us to an extravagant sitting room.

There’s a grandfather clock in the corner, marble statues, and I know from experience that the couches are as hard as a rock.

Rowan learns that quickly, sitting as straight as a board, and I slide next to her, while Victoria finds a seat of her own—a stuffy, vintage-looking armchair that makes her look like she’s sitting on a throne. Fitting.

“Well?” Victoria lifts a brow, her dark eyes shifting between us. “Are you two dating now?”

I look at Rowan, but she won’t meet my gaze. The signature heat creeps up her cheeks, splattering across her face and ears.

“No,” she says. “I’m helping him with a magical problem.”

That is probably the best way to describe our situation, but it makes me twist in my seat.

“A problem?” Victoria echoes blandly. “I hope you don’t expect me to help.”

Her familiar jumps into my lap before I can stop him, and despite Victoria’s coolness, she gives me a slight nod.

“Go ahead,” she says, though she doesn’t sound all that pleased about it.

Still, it’s permission to pet, which I gratefully take as the dog settles onto my lap.

At least one of them still likes me.

Rowan clears her throat, drawing the attention back. “I expect nothing from you.” Her expression remains unmoving, but I can practically hear her eyes wanting to roll back into her skull. So… it’s going about as well as I expected. “We’ve recently confirmed that Seth has been hexed, and we’re interviewing witches to see if anyone knows who could have done it.”

Victoria recoils. “You barged into my home, and now you’re blaming me for his misfortune?”

I’m quick to jump in. “No! Not at all. Just looking for information—like she said.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not really sure what terms we ended on, because you… you know. Stopped texting me.”

I wince. This is not the conversation I want to have with anyone. It’s not like I’ve never moved on from someone, and I don’t take offense to her moving on. If anything, that was easier for me—but this? This is not.

“Don’t tell me.” Victoria leans back and crosses one leg over the other. “Starbrook’s most notorious fuckboy finally being ghosted hurt his feelings?”

Rowan rolls her eyes. “You’re not doing anything to convince me it wasn’t you, Ms. Welsh.”

She curls her nose. “Well, it wasn’t me. Convincing enough?”

“Oh, very…”

Victoria turns her attention to me. “I don’t have the energy to waste on hexing you. And you know that.”

The dog jumps from my lap and moves to his mother’s side, making his alliance all too clear. He may still like me, but not that much.