Page 86 of Meet Cute Magic

“So I know what she likes. She likes a grand gesture,” she says, something I already know. “And she likes it when things were always meant to be. When the universe works in its mysterious, magical ways to push two people who would never look twice at one another together.”

“She doesn’t think we’re that, though. She thinks our feelings are just a result of the kiss bond.”

“I’m going to tell you a secret that Rosie doesn’t know,” she says, looking at me with a stern face. “I’d very much appreciate you not telling her I told you this, because I don’t want to deal with her. I just… I think someone needs to know this.” I lift an eyebrow in confusion before she sighs. “Rosie has never kiss-bonded anyone.” My heart falls as I realize the confession isn’t something I didn’t already know or something I can use in my quest to win her back.

“I know that. She told me, that’s why we didn’t know if—”

“But I have.” The bakery suddenly seems extra quiet, and I stare at her as I wait for her to continue. “I didn’t tell her because she’s such a Goody Two-Shoes and I didn’t need a lecture. But I’ve done it. Twice, actually. Both times were very different experiences, very different… relationships. But the thing is, if you’re not a match, the bond isn’t unbearable. It’s fun, it tingles, and it makes kissing and sex more exciting, but that’s it.” I blink at her because that sounds utterly… suspicious. And so different from what Rosie and I experienced. But then she continues. “But if you’re a match, it’s… intense. You feel the uncontrollable desire to be near them nonstop, especially in the beginning. When you’re together in an… intimate way, it’s way more intense.” My breathing hitches.

“When you say match,” I start, and Violet explains without me having to ask more.

“Witches have a handful of perfect matches born in the same lifetime as them. It’s someone who not only complements their power but also makes it stronger. It’s usually a human, though I’ve heard of it being a supernatural. It’s not like soulmates or fated mates like some supernaturals have, just a few people who fit perfectly.” My mouth is suddenly dry. “When you kiss your perfect match, the bond is intense. Similar, I would assume, to what you and Rosie felt, though I do not need details, please.” Despite myself, I smile.

“So you’re saying if I felt that intense need, Rosie and I are, in some way, meant to be together?”

She nods. “It’s the kind of thing that, say, if she knew or understood, she might feel more confident in what was between you two, curse or not.”

“Would a match like that overpower a curse?”

Violet’s smile widens. “I can’t speak to Phillip’s power, but it would have to be remarkable to be stronger than something like that.” Suddenly, my heart feels lighter than it has in a week. I need to find her. I need to talk to her, to stop her, except…

“She won’t not break the curse,” I say low. “It impacts your whole family. She can’t live with that kind of guilt.” I don’t mention that she won’t be able to deal with the looming panic that the curse might strike us at any moment, or how I know it would breed insecurities and resentment in our relationship over time. Violet knows her sister well enough to know that already. She shrugs.

“Then help her break it.” I blink at her, confused. “Help her break it and find a way around the side effects. She might not have asked for your help at the start, but you went on this mission together. Finish it together and then figure out how to move past it together. If the curse really does wipe the slate clean, then that sounds like the perfect opportunity to fall in love all over again, doesn’t it? Sounds like something my romantic sister would absolutely love. The grandest of gestures.”

My mind is realigning with her gentle encouragement and a bright idea hits me. It’s so obvious and exactly what we need. I smile wide then take a step backward.

“Thanks, Vi. This really helped,” I say. She returns my smile, then grabs a few items from the bakery case, puts them into a box, and hands them to me.

“Bright Idea Scones always do,” she says mischievously. I smile wider then, realizing her plan all along. I should have seen it coming, really, but I can’t complain. “There’s an all-nighter mocha brownie in there too. In case your plan requires a late night.”

“I think it will. Thanks, Vi.”

“Anytime. Now go win your girl back.”

CHAPTER 31

Rosie

Halloween

Just a little longer before it’s all gone, I tell myself as I stir the pot on top of my stove, the ache in my chest no less painful now that the bond is fully faded, to my dismay. Contrary to popular belief, modern-day witches don’t use a cauldron for their potions. A normal heavy-bottomed saucepan will do just fine.

It’s ten p.m. on Halloween night, and while I spent the evening downstairs in the bookstore handing out candy, the last hour the lights have been off, and I’ve been brewing up the potion.

And my heart has hurt the entire time.

I thought Jack would be here with me, laughing and joking around with me, asking a million and seven questions in his endlessly curious way that I adore. Instead, I’m here alone with the worst heartbreak of my life and strangely thinking about how much I’m going to miss Phillip, the nuisance of a ghost turned unwitting roommate.

Maybe when the curse breaks and I forget all previous heartbreak, that also won’t hurt as much. Maybe it won’t just be romantic relationships, but everything in between: lost friends, lost love. Lost family?

That one makes me pause because even though I miss my parents every day, I would never want to forget the pain of losing them, not when it made me who I am. I’d obviously never want to lose the memories of them, not even the most bittersweet of them.

Would I one day feel that way about my many failed relationships? Each one taught me something new, something about what I wanted or who I am. Would I one day regret not remembering them, remembering those lessons?

The alarm I set to get the stirring time just right goes off, and I shake my head. I check the clock one last time before stopping stirring, reducing the heat, and setting another alarm. I need to simmer this for fifteen minutes and then pour it into the flask for Phillip, where it will cool for another five minutes before it’s ready. I wipe down my counters, trying to get a head start on the cleaning I’ll have to do.

Or distract myself from my racing thoughts.