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“Don’t think like that,” I said. “You can’t— Rose, there’s no way in the world any of them are ever going to regret that decision.”
She looked up at me. “How can you know that?”
Maybe, if I’d taken the time to think about it, I’d have come up with a better answer. One still honest, but a little less raw. A little less likely to get me into trouble. But the pain in her eyes loosened my tongue, and before I knew it, the most baldly true answer I could have offered spilled out.
“Because I know nothing could be as bad as knowing everything they do andnotbeing able to be there for you in every possible way.”
I clamped my mouth shut, but it was too late. The words were already out. I couldn’t even break the spell of Rose’s gaze, holding mine in place as she studied my expression. She was so close now, her arm resting against mine, that she might have been able to feel the heady thump of my heart.
“There are people who’d kill you for being here like this with me,” Rose said. “And you’d still want to commit yourself to me even more?”
I’d had time to thinknow. “Why don’t we just forget I said that,” I said. “It’s a moot point anyway. What I was getting at is, I know how theotherguys feel, and it’s obvious they’d rather be with you than anywhere else.”
“I’m not going to forget it. Did you mean it or not?”
I let out my breath, but I still couldn’t look away. “When have I ever been in the habit of lying to you, Sprout?”
Something in her expression changed, like a faint light coming on that I hadn’t realized was missing until I saw it now. So hopeful it made my chest ache. Her hand rose to skim the edge of my jaw, and my pulse leapt. When she shifted forward to kiss me, God help me, I leaned right in to meet her.
The brush of her mouth against mine sent a tremor of energy over my skin. I tipped my head, and her lips parted, a hungry, needy sound escaping them. Her body was so vibrant next to mine it might as well have been made of light. Her hand trailed sparks down my side, and my fingers tangled in her hair as I kissed her harder. She shifted against me, suddenly feeling so beautifully fragile—
What thefuckwas I doing?
I jerked back, my breath ragged. Rose grasped my hand. “It’s okay,” she said.
“How is it okay? You—the guys—”
“They know,” she said quietly. “We talked about it. Nothing definite, of course, since I didn’t know how you felt, but… You belong with us. We belong with you.Ibelong with you, as much as I do the rest of them. We don’t have to rush into anything, and you don’t have to promise me anything, not right now, but if you want—”
“No.” I pushed myself to my feet, shaking my head. “I can’t do this. I know what I said, but—I can’t.”
Before I had to explain myself any further, I hurried out of her room. Down the stairs and back to the garage, which was as close to Rose as I actually belonged. I didn’t stop until I was in my apartment, the door locked behind me.
I stood in the middle of the living room, my breath raw in my throat, my chest aching. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I willed my pulse to even out. I’d caught myself. I’d gotten out of there. Maybe not as quickly as I should have, but…
I’d ruined too many goddamn things in my life. I wasn’t going to let myself ruin her too.
Chapter Nineteen
Rose
Looking at the consort files I’d grabbed from Celestine’s magicking room was awfully depressing. Like a road map laying out all the standard preferences and expectations of witching society.
How much of a fortune did each guy have? How much money did he bring in with his job? How prestigious was said job, with how much room for moving farther up the ladder? What prominent figures did he have in his family? How much magical ability had his female relatives demonstrated?
There were notes upon notes of each of the guys’ family histories and current position in the community… and nothing about what sort of a person they were. Had they ever done something to help someone else rather than focusing on building their own fortune? What did they do with their spare time that wasn’t for making money or impressing anyone?
Were they actually a worthwhile person for a woman to spend her life with?
“Aiming to add even more husbands to your household?” Philomena said, leaning over my shoulder.
I blinked at her. Phil. She smiled at me, and my heart squeezed. I’d told her, after I’d completed the consorting, that I’d still need her company. But it’d been at least a day since I’d last imagined her into being beside me, hadn’t it?
She might have developed a mind of her own, but she was still ultimately a product of mine. And mine was turning to her less and less, even unconsciously, it seemed.
There were too many all-too-real people stealing my attention, in ways both good and bad.
“No,” I said quickly, past the pang in my chest. I flipped one file folder closed and opened the one underneath. “These are the possible consorts Celestine was considering for me. The men she thought might agree to her scheme, apparently.”
