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We drive there in silence. I have a feeling Sterling, someone who’s opened up about his anxiety, is as socially exhausted as I am. Once we’re home, he leans in to kiss me on the cheek, the chin, and then on the lips.

Before I can say what’s dancing on the tip of my tongue—the cottage, the conversation with Jewel, he speaks.

“I’d like to take you on a real date soon,” he says, pulling back and peering at me earnestly. “Maybe it feels like we’re doing things in reverse, but⁠—”

Warmth settles around me. He’s the best boyfriend. What am I so worried about?

“No.” I smile softly, and despite my reservations, my next words are true. “I’d like that.”

So many of my firsts have been with Sterling. First orgasm from another person. First serious boyfriend. First time meeting the parents. And now, my first real date. I want to keep him, to forget everything standing between us, for everything to be okay.

How can we be okay if he’s still keeping so many secrets?

“But I think we need to talk,” I add, my stomach sour. “Soon.”

His face blanches. And after a moment, he nods. Miserable. He looks absolutely miserable at the idea of talking to me.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Chapter 37

Sterling

There are countless curses a witch can cast, but nothing is more damning than these four words: we need to talk.

On one hand, we’ve needed to talk all along. She deserves to know about my magic—that I’m putting her in danger, that I put the people I loved in danger, and that I’m keeping an eye on her lifeline. I won’t let harm come to her. Can she trust that?

How can she trust me when I’ve kept it from her for so long?

Better question: How am I supposed to sleep knowing the need to talk is weighing on both of us?

Still, she agrees to go to the movies the next night. It’s so sweet and mundane, it nearly feels unrealistic. Anything to get her out of that cursed cottage. Anything to give us a real shot.

Her lifeline is still strong. We’re together, but I can’t fight the feeling that I’m stealing a few final moments before she finds out the truth and leaves me.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

What do I have to do to fix this?

I’d invite her to move in with me if I didn’t think it would scare her away. Aurora is opening up, and I’m observant enough to realize she doesn’t do that with just anyone. I won’t take it for granted, and I won’t move too fast. If I can help it. It’s hard when I’m ready to give her everything she wants and a little—or a lot—more.

We watch the movie of her choosing—something gothic and romantic—and she’s still munching on popcorn on the way out.

“That was good,” she says. “Too full in there to give you a hand job, but just know I was thinking about it.”

I let out a sound between a gasp and a laugh. “You were thinking about what? In there?”

Sexual favors in a sticky, messy movie theater have never been a dream of mine, but if Aurora is involved, I could be persuaded into about anything.

“Not your thing?” She lifts a shoulder. “That’s fine. We can do it later.”

“You are my thing.” I stop her in the middle of the serene street, pulling her closer and planting a kiss on her forehead. “Everything about you, end everywhere I go with you.”

Though I’m not bold enough to state it as plainly as she did, at least not in public, she can have me anywhere she wants. Well, within reason.

“You’re trying to steal more of my popcorn,” she says, giggling through the words.

“Am not.”