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“Next timeI get the bright idea to grow my hair out, I need you to remind me of this moment.”
I glance at Moira, trying hard not to laugh. “Hate to break it to you, Belladonna, but you didn’t grow it out.”
“Right, but if I’d known I was going to be stuck with ten pounds of sweaty blanket on the back of my neck, I wouldn’t have bothered,” she grumbled.
I wandered across the school’s massive kitchen to the professional-grade range where Moira stood. She wore a pink apron tied around her waist and huffed her annoyance at the turkey she was basting. “It helps if you pull it up, you know. As a long hair owner, I’ve perfected the art.”
Her hair stuck to her face from the heat of the oven. “Then help me! It’s your harem coming to eat all this food. I’ve never cooked this much in my life.”
“I can get the scissors and give you an edgy bob if you want.”
She glanced back at me over her shoulder, looking horrified at the thought. “No offense, sweets, but I don’t trust my hair to just anybody. The thought of you wielding shears gives me the heebies. I’ll suffer.”
My laughter filled the kitchen as I collected the heavy locks and began braiding the strands down her back. When I was done, I stared at the oil-slick colored braid that hung to the base of her spine. “God, that's a lot of hair.”
“Never again.”
“No one anticipated a magic ban.”
“True, but I’m not going to let myself be unprepared. Apocalypse ready at all times from here on out.”
I snickered, watching with no little awe as my pixie of a roommate hefted heavy pots of potatoes as if they weighed nothing at all. She may be used to doing mundane tasks with magic, but she certainly knew her way around a kitchen.
“How can I help?” I snagged the other apron Moira had not so subtly set out on the counter, this one pale blue with lace trimming the edge.
“Pie or sweet potatoes?”
“I’m better with baking. Less chance for error with exact measurements.”
Moira cackled. “You only say that because you’ve never seen my aunts in a kitchen. Those bitches can ruin anything.”
“I might be those bitches.”
“No way, your cupcakes came out great.”
“Because you were there over my shoulder the entire time.”
“Well... don’t fuck it up, I guess, and we’ll be just fine.”
“Good pep talk.”
“What do you want from me? I’m kinda in the middle of fisting a turkey.”
I stared at the half-roasted bird. “I think you’re past the fisting stage. Unless you want second-degree burns.”
Moira grumbled under her breath. “Goddamned demons fucking everything up.”
“It smells fucking amazing in here, Sunshine,” Kingston called as he strode in like he owned the place.
“Oh look, the King of the Assholes has arrived.”
I locked eyes with him and was surprised to see a little flash of hurt at Moira’s barb. “You know, he’s not that bad.”
“Sorry. Old habits die hard and all that.” Moira blew him a kiss, which he sneered at. “Watch it. I’ll take my apology back.”
He continued to glare at her and then surprised us both by blowing her a kiss. “Fine.”
I was still gawking at him when he came around the stainless steel island to where I had been flipping through a cookbook in search of a recipe. He wrapped his arms around my hips and pulled me back into the cradle of his body, brushing a kiss over my mark.
