Page 39 of A Match Made in Error

I can’t go back to the room yet. I want to give Poppy the space from me that she needs. I can be too much sometimes.

…Guess I’ll go get a drink at the bar.

Chapter Fourteen

POPPY

The world yanks sideways for a moment, and then I step out of my teleportation spell, going from the beach to the bungalow in the blink of an eye. The applause is still ringing in my ears, the salt clumping up my hair, and I can feel Riven’s hands on my body even though they’re long gone. The aftereffects of my chaotic magic linger in the air like static electricity. That spell was anything but elegant, but it got the job done.

Lanterns sway unlit over the ocean, the early evening sun beating down on the sunchairs lounging on our private deck. I move past the bed, the evidence of our first misstep on this island. I kick off my shoes in the bathroom doorway and toss my swimsuit to the floor. It’s beginning to look like Hurricane Poppy rolled through this room.

I pace the space like a trapped animal as the tub fills with water. I could use magic to fill it in an instant, but I need to use the time to unwind my chaotic, buzzing energy. My palms press into my cheeks like I’m trying to physically hold myself together, and when my pinkies drag over my lips, they spark as they did when they touched Riven’s lips.

That was all for show, I tell myself. It was a strategy. It wasn’t real.

It. Was. Not. Real.

So why won’t my pulse slow? Why are my lips still tingling? Why is my body reacting as if I wanted to do far more than kiss Riven?

Riven.

My best friend.

My platonic friend who I had never kissed before.

Water sloshes onto the floor. “Curse me!” I swear, staggering to the tub and fumbling with the tap. I’d let it overflow. Water drips down the side like it had dripped over Riven’s rippling pectorals when he strode from the sea like a siren himself.

I hunch over the basin, splashing the water on my face in an attempt to reset myself.

My heart keeps racing in my chest. I still can see his wet tendrils clinging to his face. His thousand-watt smile reflecting in the sunrays.

It’s not enough.

I grip the edge of the tub and then⁠—

Dunk my head fully under the water. I hold it there for a moment as my mind reels.

I don’t like Riven. He drives me insane. I haven’t felt this way about him since our first Festival. I wouldn’t—I shouldn’t⁠—

A scream erupts from me, bubbles the only evidence as I thrash my feet on the bathroom floor.

Water sprays out when I finally eject myself from the water.

“For coven’s sake,” I whisper pathetically, slipping down onto the floor until my face is resting on the cool tile. If I hadn’t been forced into this match. If he hadn’t danced. If we hadn’t kissed. I never would have crossed this mental line.

I didn’t choose these feelings, but that doesn’t make them any less real.

I snap my fingers again, less frantically this time, and a tray appears, hovering over the steaming bath with bowls of ice cream and a family-sized bag of crisps. I climb into the tub, soaking in until I’m cheek-deep in the comforting water. Too pathetic to move my own arm, I twist my fingers under the water, directing the spoon to float to my mouth with a heaping bite of frozen cream and melty chocolate.

The water eventually cools, and the ice cream melts, so I climb into bed, still damp. Still shaken to my core. I tuck myself into the blankets like armor, equipped with my bag of crisps and shaky hands.

I pull my knees to my chest, pillow clutched in my arms. A pillow that smells faintly of sea air and…him. A growl tears from my lips, and I toss the pillow to the floor. I can’t escape it. Escape him. He is everywhere. In my bed. In my mind. Hands on my body. Lips on my lips.

And, coven help me, I like it.

But to him, this is all a game.

It’s all fake.