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She shouldn’t laugh like that for anyone except me…and me, alone.
My hands tighten on the bags in my hands as jealousy rears its ugly head and painfully rips through my chest. I’ve never felt the need to claim someone as badly as I do at this moment.She’s mine!
I want to hold them all by their throats and growl the words at them, so they all know not to mess with her. I want to make them know that no one is allowed to look at her in a remotely sexual way. I want to make it a rule set in stone; an offense punishable by death. I wish I could rip out their eyes so they can’t even look at her. I know my feelings are irrational, but I can’t seem to control them. I’m certainly beyond reasoning and barely hanging on to my self-control by a thread.
As if suddenly aware of my presence, she looks up, and our gazes clash and hold. Her eyes instantly light up with obvious delight, and my heart suddenly stumbles and falls. I can’t believe that the light in those gorgeous hazel eyes is meant for me…but it is. A warm gooey feeling spreads across my chest, and my irrational jealousy instantly melts away.
“Pocus!” she calls excitedly as if genuinely glad to see me.
My name has never sounded so good, and I’ve never been so glad to be back home. Ironically, I abducted her, but she ended up imprisoning my soul. I’m a fool for her, and I hope she doesn’t realize that anytime soon. Her smile grows wider as I walk further into the room.
I wonder if she knows how beautiful she looks right now and how much effort it takes not to sweep her into my arms and kiss the shit out of her.
My little temptress.
“Hey, Prez,” Seer says from his place on one of the bar stools. I can tell from the smug look in his bright blue eyes that he’s correctly guessed the direction of my thoughts. “How was your ride?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. “Good,” I reply curtly, going to sit on the couch by the windows.
“You won’t believe it, but Abby is whooping their asses,” Hex says and loudly cackles when she proves him right by knocking off one of Hemlock’s knights. “See? I told you. She won against Gator, too. Hands down.”
My chest swells with pride, but I don’t let it show on my face. “Buffy?” I call, waiting for him to take his eyes off the game. “Can you make me a glass of that thing you boast about all the time, please?”
“A glass of magic bomb coming right up,” Buffy says happily and sets to business. He seems to live for bartending. Buffy lights up from within when people praise his weird but amazing combos.
“And…there!” Abby says. Her husky voice, tinged with genuine gusto, is definitely a sound I’ll never get tired of listening to. I look up in time to see her checkmate Hemlock’s king in one graceful flick of her finger.
“I’m done,” she says, flicking her long chocolate brown curls over her shoulder with a humorous sass.
“Did she just pull a fool’s mate on me?” Hemlock asks, staring dazedly at the chessboard.
“Yeah, you fool,” Gator replies, laughing boisterously. “She did…and so gallantly, too.”
She’s smiling so brightly that it feels like someone invited the sun in here. If I knew she’d do so well with the guys, I’d have had her meet them much earlier. I didn’t even have to; she found her way, alright.
Buffy brings my drink to me, and I down it in one go. “This stuff is good. I knew I needed it,” I say, returning the empty glass to him. “Thanks, Buff.”
“Anytime, Prez,” Buffy replies with a splitting grin on his face. He has an extra bounce in his step as he returns to his station. I shake my head in amusement. That boy lives for praise.
Abigail stands up from the group of guys and comes to sit beside me. She smells like jasmine and a heady feminine shampoo.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hey,” I respond, pinning her gaze with mine.
I realize that I love seeing her eyes up close and trying to guess her thoughts and emotions without my gifts.
“How do you feel?” I ask, letting my eyes drift slowly to the bracelet on her wrist and back to her eyes.
“I feel great,” she replies with a shrug. “Energized, even.”
I allow a small smile. “I can see that…great job whooping asses, by the way.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “They don’t think I know, but I’m sure they went easy on me.”
“That’s a possibility,” I reply with an amused chuckle. “Or it’s also a possibility that you’re a better chess player than all of them put together.”
“I don’t flatter myself,” Abigail says with a dismissive wave, but I can tell she’s just being humble. I saw her moves, and she’s nothing short of a pro chess player.
