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And no, I did not pluck them too hard. I was born that way.
Magic was great for when I was in a rush: it took me all of ten seconds and a wave of my hand. But I still had plenty of makeup of the regular variety—too much, in fact. I had a bit of a shopping problem there. Oops.
I frowned at the image in the mirror. On second thought, dark red lips seemed a little bit much for this occasion. I didn’t want—what was his name again? Zeb? Zack? He’d told me his name when we first met, but I’d been too distracted by his perfect jawline and broad shoulders and hadn’t been paying attention. Whatever his name, I didn’t want him to think I was trying to impress him or anything. Because I wasn’t. I really, really wasn’t.
I concentrated on my lips and muted the red down to something more understated. Perfect.
Then I took my hair down and brushed it out, and threw on a black wrap dress that made it look like I’d actually thought about my clothes this morning. Armed and ready, I stepped out into the hall to face the man who thought hurling bowling balls at the wall was an acceptable pastime.
I knocked on the door and waited.
When I didn’t get a response, I knocked again, adding, “I know you’re in there.”
Still nothing. I guess Zeb-Zack-Whoever was the type to hide and avoid confrontation.
I knocked one last time and waited.
“Fine. Be that way,” I shouted at the door.
I stomped back toward my apartment. Just as I got back to my door, his creaked open.
I whipped around, ready to give him a piece of my mind. I nearly choked on the perfect male specimen before my eyes.
He was topless, with an expanse of richly-tanned skin stretched over perfect pecs, broad shoulders, and washboard abs. There was a slight sheen of sweat on him, as if he’d been working out. Maybe he was dropping weights and not bowling balls.
“You knocked?”
My eyes darted up to his face. Way up. He was tall. Gah, there was that chiseled jawline again, so sharp you might cut yourself on it if you weren’t careful. Silvery blue-gray eyes met mine, in sharp contrast to his swarthy complexion..
Somehow the strange coloring looked completely natural on him, though. Probably because it was.
I swallowed hard, trying to remember why I was out here.
Oh yeah, the banging.
I took a deep breath, girded my loins, and let him have it.
Chapter 2
Zayn
Thecutelittlewitchnext door glared at me, her hands on her hips. I’d heard her knocking just as I was getting control over my shift. It had taken a moment to force my wayward serpent back into myself.
“Whatever you’re doing in there, Zack—”
“It’s Zayn,” I corrected her. “Sybil, right?”
“Zayn. I don’t care if dropping bowling balls is your favorite hobby. It needs to stop.” She crossed her arms over her chest, the movement pressing her breasts together and up until they threatened to spill out of the low neckline of her dress. “And yes, it’s Sybil.”
I tore my eyes from her chest, forcing myself to meet her challenging gaze before stepping out of the doorway and right into her personal space. The tension between us drew so tight you could have plucked it like a bow string. Startled, she took a step back before realizing what she was doing. Then, clearly not being one to retreat, she stood her ground, glaring at me.
I wasn’t trying to get in her face on purpose. I needed space to close the door behind me. My serpent had done a number on my living room, and I didn’t want her to see the state of it. One look at the destruction, and she’d never believe the little white lie I was about to tell.
I casually kicked the door closed behind me, hoping she hadn’t seen in, and cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. It’s my clothes dryer. It makes a loud knocking sound.”
That had been the same excuse I’d used when security came by yesterday. He’d bought it, but Sybil narrowed her green eyes at me suspiciously.
“You do laundry all day long?” Her eyes traveled down my naked torso.
