Page 22 of Meet Cute Magic

With that realization, I shake my head and give her a smile. “No.”

“No?”

“You’re not doing this alone. I told you, I’m doing it with you.”

I make the statement with my full chest, but it’s no longer solely because I want to learn more about this world I just found out existed, and definitely not because of the flimsy excuse I gave her about not trusting her. It’s because, despite myself, I enjoyed these past few mornings with Rosie, not just learning about her magic, but about her. I enjoyed having someone to talk to.

She glares at me. “Jack, you’re being unreasonable. I can do this on my own.” If I were into her, I might think stubborn indignance is a cute look on her. But I’m not, so I don’t. Instead, I smile, liking being able to get under her skin. Taking a step backward, I keep my eyes on her before I give her my parting words.

“Looking forward to our next adventure, Rosie. Let me know when and where.” I’m smiling wide as I turn on my heel and head to my store, and I have to bite back a laugh as I hear her mutter, “Goddammit!” under her breath before the door slams behind her.

Maybe this will be fun after all.

CHAPTER 8

Jack

44 days until Halloween

I​’m taking in the chalkboard sign from out front of my shop when Rosie’s door opens, the bell over it chiming and pulling my attention across the street.

Yes, that’s why my head snaps up the second it opens, definitely not because I’ve had an eye on it the entire time, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious woman. And even if that was the case, it would simply be because I’m eager for my next lesson in witchcraft and the supernatural world.

I’ve spent every night since I found out magic was real reading through my favorite books with new eyes, trying to decide what’s real and what’s not. Are vampires real? Gargoyles? Zombies? Her cat that follows her around—can it talk? Does it have magic? My mind can’t stop thinking about possibilities, and despite playing it cool, I’m eagerly awaiting our next adventure to grab an ingredient so I can try and find out more about this world I didn’t know existed until recently.

She smiles and waves, and I return it, sliding the sign into my store before stepping her way. “Rosemary,” I say with a nod. I haven’t seen her since the last day of our dew collection. I’ve been busy preparing for an in-store event I’m hosting in a few weeks, managing new inventory, and getting ready for the town’s fall festival, which is next week. I take her in now as I move across the cobblestones to her, trying not to notice her sultry makeup that isn’t her norm (not that I’ve taken note, of course) or the way her long strawberry blond hair cascades over one shoulder, but I do note the long coat that covers the dress I assume she’s wearing beneath, leaving her long legs bare in the crisp fall air. For some reason, it irritates me, the idea that she’d be uncomfortable.

“Well, hello to you, Jack Attack,” she says with a raised eyebrow. I glare at her, and she smiles. “You call me Rosemary, I call you Jack Attack.” I roll my eyes. “You got anything on tonight?” I’m across the way when she asks, and I shake my head.

“No, why, do you have anything… going on?” I ask, looking around to check if anyone is nearby. She grins then nods, tipping her head into the store and opening the door. I follow her in, once again shocked by how similar her layout is to mine. The cash wrap is built into the left side of the room, with stairs behind it leading to her home upstairs. Bookshelves line the walls, and a mishmatch of other bookshelves and tables is neatly arranged in the center. Even though mine looks different, the layout is identical. On the back wall is a pink door that I can guess leads to a stockroom and the HVAC and building’s appliances.

Before I can say anything about it, though, a sharp chill moves through me, and a moment later, my grandfather is hovering before me. My heart pulses heavy, both with the startling cold and the continued shock that my dead grandfather is here.

I’ve seen him a few times in the window, drifting along, waving at me, but I haven’t been back here since that first night, partially because Rosie hasn’t asked me over, but also because I’m still unsure of how I feel about talking to the ghost of my grandfather. Most of the time, it still feels like some chaotic dream.

But if magic is real, I suppose he is too.

“Uh, hi,” I start, unsure of how to communicate with my dead relative. “Grandpa.”

“Jacky, my boy,” he says, a wide smile still pulling at the same familiar deep lines he had before passing. “How are you? Well fed, it seems.”

“Well fed?” I ask, and Rosie lets out an aggravated sigh, digging through a purse on the counter of the cash wrap.

“He has an obsession with what the living eat. I’ve had three square meals, two snacks, and dessert every day since he arrived.”

“Skipping meals is unhealthy, Rosemary.” She glares at my grandfather, and I fight back a laugh, watching her exasperation with him. It’s similar to the way my mother would look at him when he moved in with them the last year of his life. Even when he was growing weak and losing some of his memories, he loved to tease, taunt, and prod. My parents still live one town over, though I don’t see them too often. I was always much closer to my grandfather than I was to them, and once he was gone, it didn’t feel like we had much in common other than blood. They’re both social butterflies, always hosting elaborate dinners and going to parties or events, something I very much do not enjoy. I’m much more of a quiet-night-in type of person, something they just don’t understand.

“So is going to bed uncomfortably full,” Rosie groans.

“Maybe it’ll finally put some skin on your bones!” he says, and Rosie rolls her eyes. I fight the urge to let my eyes roam over her body, but even without looking, I know her curves don’t lend any credibility to his claims.

“I think it’s obvious from my ass I’ve been feeding myself properly all my life, Phillip.”

I lose the battle not to take her in, and it seems I’m caught when the deep laugh of my grandfather fills the room and a blush burns over my cheeks. I look up and see Rosie smiling.

“You two going out tonight?”

“We’ve got plans,” Rosie says, mysteriously.