Page 21 of Take Her On

She nudged Maya with her arm, and when their eyes connected again, something pulled behind her sternum.

What the hell was that?

Maya looked down at her shorts. Locking her hands together, she swallowed. A silence fell between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was kind of…nice. Jamie scrambled her head to make this moment continue.

“You’re welcome for the ride, by the way,” she teased.

“I was just about to say ‘thank you’, actually, but now you’ve gone and blown it.”

“No…Oh, please. I would love to hear Maya Thomas grovelling.”

“And now you’ve lost your mind.”

“Damn. Well, maybe some other time.” They locked eyes again, both trying to hide a smile. “I mean it,” Jamie continued. “I’ll give you a ride whenever you need. Like after practice. I’m sure it’ll save your folks a job.” She got the feeling that Maya wasn’t the type of person to accept help often. “Or…if you’ve had too much to drink and need to get home.”

Maya pursed her lips. “Yeah…maybe. I’ll, uh, think about it. Thanks.” She grabbed her dripping bag from the footwell and opened the door with a squeak. The smell of rain engulfed Jamie’s senses as she joined her out on the tarmac. Her heart sank a little when Maya walked straight to her house.

At her front door, she fumbled with her keys, stealing a look back at her new neighbour. Maya lingered on her step, offering a small wave before disappearing behind the shiny white wood. She was still wearing Jamie’s hoodie.

Jamie stayed for a moment longer, her mind firing on all cylinders to try and compute the night’s events.

The feel of Maya on her bare skin. The look in her eyes that rendered Jamie speechless. How something had seemed to shift in the air between them.

She might be crazy, but she swore Maya felt it too.

Chapter Seven

Maya

The Emmerdale credits continued to play on the TV, with an empty cup of tea on the table. A wise person should never try to come between Grandma and her love of the soaps—and certainly not mention how unrealistic and repetitive the storylines were…Not unless they wanted a clip round the ear with the red tea towel.

Mum was away with work again, and Grandma was about to have her biweekly “Witch Club”, as Grandpa had sweetly deemed it years ago. Basically, an excuse to eat scones and biscuits and do the occasional Tarot card reading. Each to their own.

Maya collected Grandma’s cup from the table and took it into the kitchen, sighing when the dishwasher needed emptying. She put the plates away, humming a tune to herself. She stopped dead in her tracks, arm reached out to stack a mug in the cupboard, when she realised what she was singing.

“Just Can’t Get Enough.”

Slamming the mug into its place with a little more force than needed, she shook her head. That damn song, along with that damned blonde woman, had been creeping into her head uninvited over the last few days.

Not ideal.

“What did that mug ever do to you?”

Grandma’s voice jolted her, and she spun around. She was wearing a long red dress, with her favourite black cardigan hanging off her bony shoulders.

“You look nice,” Maya commented, pushing another mug into the cupboard.

“Thank you, dear.” Her grandma ambled over and placed a cool hand on Maya’s arm. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine. You looking forward to Witch Club?” She emptied the last mug from the dishwasher drawer and started to restack the dirty ones. Unfortunately, there were only two, and she had to face the inquisitive eyes of her grandma once again.

Grandma let out a soft laugh. “Yes. Those spells aren’t going to cast themselves, you know. Did you notice how Mrs Corstow’s moustache has grown back?”

Maya broke into a smile. Mrs Corstow was an old grumpy git of a woman who used to complain and moan about them playing in the streets as kids. The way she used to scream from her doorway, you’d think they were trying to steal her garden gnome collection, not playing catch. The old lady and Grandma had always had disagreements ever since.

“Have you got your wand ready?” Maya teased.

Grandma patted down her cardigan and pulled something out of her pocket. “Here it is.” It was her middle finger.