Page 56 of Meet Cute Magic

“Violet—” I start, but she shakes her head and cuts me off.

“We don’t have a lot of time. Spill. As far as I know, last time we talked, you were still anti-Jack, and you were not going to take our hook up with him advice. Now you’ve got a glow about you, and he’s walking in with his hand on your hip and knowing your order and watching you from the other side of my bakery like he’s ready to step in and fight me if he determines that I’m making you uncomfortable.” I shake my head to argue, but when I look over at him, behind his glasses, Jack does have the look of someone who would fight my middle sister if she were making me upset.

Well, that’s unexpected.

“And this is Jack we’re talking about. Jack, who barely wants to talk to any of us. Jack, who is nerdier than Poppy. Jack, who—”

“Can you stop?” I say through hissed teeth because I don’t like the way she’s tearing him down, as if he isn’t a great person. An incredibly hot person. A kind person. A—

“Tell me what’s going on and I will,” she says with a knowing look. I groan then lean forward on the counter, knowing I’m going to have a lot to explain in probably just a few hours, but for now, I just tell her the basics in a hushed voice.

“I took your advice.”

She smiles and nods. “As you should. Younger sisters always know best.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Poppy you said that.” My sister’s jaw goes tight then, and I let out a laugh.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” I give her an are you out of your mind? look, one I find myself giving Vi quite often.

“He’s standing right there,” I say, fighting the urge to tip my head in his direction. “Watching us.” She continues to stare at me and I realize in that moment, I’m not getting out of this mess without giving her something. “Fine. We… we made a truce of sorts.” That makes my sister let out a loud laugh.

“A truce?”

“Friends with benefits. Until Halloween when his grandfather drinks the potion. Because we’re stuck together anyway.”

“And after?” I tip my head, trying to answer her questions without causing more, but also not revealing the true source of our potion, since after Halloween, whatever relationships—or non-relationships—I have will be nonissues.

“After we’ll end things. Friends with benefits, remember? We’ll go back to just friends.”

“And the benefits just… expire on Halloween?” She’s clearly confused, and honestly, if I were her, I would be too. She doesn’t have the full picture. If she did, she would see this is completely reasonable. A genius plan, even.

“It’s complicated,” I sigh. Her eyes are assessing before irritation and concern clouds them.

“Rosie, you are not a friends with benefits kind of girl. You’re a commitment and roses girl. You want a happily ever after and a white picket fence.”

“The picket fence is optional,” I say, a joke I’ve said for years, but this time, Violet doesn’t laugh, instead looking at me with concern written all over her face. Shit.

“You know what I mean. Does he not want commitment? Is that why you’re settling for temporary?” I resist the urge to look at Jack while I contemplate her words because I really don’t know. Last night, he said he didn’t have time for a relationship, that he was busy with work and whatnot, but did that mean he doesn’t do commitment? I’ve never seen a woman at his place, but maybe it’s because he’s no good at getting one? “I’m afraid you’re setting yourself up to get hurt, Rosie. You’re going to get attached. You always do.” I shake my head, wishing I could tell her everything so she’d understand.

But I won’t because even if by some bizarre twist of fate, I get attached, she doesn’t understand that once the curse is broken, I’ll be free to find the love of my life with no stress, no problems. According to Phillip, all previous pain and relationships will be forgotten.

But I can’t tell my sister that, so instead I deflect. “I don’t always get attached,” I say, and she gives me a pitying look.

“Percy,” she says as evidence to the contrary. My mouth screws up in irritation.

“Percy is not evidence I get attached, he’s a nuisance I can’t get rid of.” She tips her head and raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

Okay, so, maybe I found Percy near the garbage behind my place not long after I moved in, and he was so tiny, I had to bottle feed him. The rescue agency was so busy and couldn’t handle another baby, so I offered to foster him until he was big enough to be adopted out. And when he was finally big enough to adopt out, I decided to keep him, but mostly because it seemed cruel to take away the only person he knew after what was already a long and traumatic life.

That’s not getting attached, that’s having a soul.

“The bird at Mom’s?” I sigh and roll my eyes. Tweety, the bird that lived in our childhood home, was a baby I rescued when I was a teenager. She had a broken wing and I nursed her back to health, and when she was all better, I built her a little home inside to make her comfortable and happy since I figured kicking her out would, once again, be cruel.

Once she’d assimilated to life with humans, she couldn’t just go back to being a wild bird. That would have just been mean. She died a year or two after Mom did, and it tore me up.

“Those are animals, Vi. Humans are different.”

“You give yourself completely to anyone who needs your help,” she says, and it sounds like an accusation.