Page 25 of A Witch in Notting Hill

Though I supposed at this point, they were hardly strangers anymore, were they?

And they definitely weren’t going to be after tonight.

I couldn’t believe I was making what might have been some of the only true, normal friends I’d made in my adult life, and I was going to leave them as soon as I completed the spell.

Although they’d go right back to living their lives, probably thrilled this whole mess was over. I doubted they’d give it a second thought. Not that I needed to worry about any of this now, but I couldn’t help it.

“Ground control to Willow,” Lola said, snapping me back to reality. “You in there?”

“Yes, sorry. Just thinking about this stupid mint, that’s all,” I said. “Hoping none of this is a waste.”

“Will we know anything after tomorrow?” she asked. “Will you feel any different after you drink the tea? Or will you not know if any of this worked until you try the spell?”

“I won’t know anything until I try the spell, I’m afraid,” I said, trying to ignore the way I saw Oliver tense up every time we talked about magic.

“But if I do everything I’m supposed to do, I don’t see why it wouldn’t work.

I’m trying to remain optimistic.” Because if I let the self-doubt creep in, then I don’t stand a chance of doing the spell at all.

“I think that’s the right idea,” Lola said, and smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be grand.”

Easy for her to say. But still, I was glad someone was saying it. I needed a vote of confidence to offset the irritation in Oliver’s locked jaw. With his lips pressed together and his eyes looking everywhere but in my direction, it was easy to remember why I needed to keep my distance.

Late that night, however, under the cover of darkness, in the room with only his whispers and the deep breathing of Lo and Minho between us, it was nearly impossible.

“How’d you know I was awake?” I asked after I heard him whisper my name from the bottom bunk.

Lola and I were sharing the queen bed, and with her on the inside, Oliver and I were spitting distance from each other.

A sliver of moonlight painted a clean stripe down the side of his face, illuminating only one glassy eye and the corner of his lips.

“Shot in the dark.”

“It was a good shot.”

“Usually is.”

I smiled, but I wasn’t sure he could see it. “Why are you awake?”

“Not a great sleeper even in the best conditions. Quite hard to relax with you right across from me there, tossing and turning and sighing dramatically every other minute.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I’m kidding.” He reached out and rested a warm hand on the side of my head, and I was no longer certain I had a body.

Every nerve ending I had was condensed to the space of his touch, firing on all cylinders and lighting me up from the inside out.

“About the drama,” he clarified, dropping his hand and letting it linger over the edge of the bed, tracing patterns on the wooden floor.

“I’m not kidding about it being hard to sleep with you right there. ”

“I offered to try to get us another room somewhere,” I said, walking the fine line between whispering and breathless.

“I said it was hard, Willow. I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Every ounce of air that was left in my chest escaped in a rush. It must have been audible, because I could hear his smile in the dark. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be saying things like that.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like it.” What the hell was I doing? And why couldn’t I stop myself?

“I trust you’ll tell me if you change your mind,” he said.

“Does that mean you plan to continue?”

“It’s going to be a long five months, you know.

” He stopped tracing patterns in the wood and tucked his hand under his head, propping it up and looking straight at me.

Searching. For what, it was hard to say, but I felt scrutinized, even if I couldn’t see more than a fraction of his face.

And for once, I didn’t mind. “So we might as well be honest with each other.”

Of all the things he could have said, it had to be that ? When I was in the middle of a lie about my fake boyfriend so that he wouldn’t hit on me, while I was also simultaneously encouraging him to still hit on me? No wonder I was shit at being a witch. I could barely handle being a human.

“Tell me something, then,” I said, hoping to turn the attention onto him before I confessed and ruined the moment.

“What’d you like to know?”

The list was endless. Who you are outside of the shop. Why you don’t believe in magic. What usually keeps you up at night. What your kisses taste like and how you sound in bed.

What you think about when you’re alone.

“Tell me about your granduncle,” I said instead, trying to stay in safe territory.

“Ah, Uncle Arthur,” he said, rolling onto his back and folding his hands behind his head. “He was quite the man. The kind of man everyone wishes to have looking out for them. Especially if you have a shit dad and no one else to rely on. Uncle Arthur died a couple years back. Dementia and that.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I bet you miss him.”

“You’ve no idea,” he said with a sigh.

“I think I do.” He rolled back over to look at me. “The grandmother I pretended we were finding the spell for? She died a few months ago.”

“God, Willow, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I wouldn’t have given you such a hard time about the lie if I—”

“I know,” I said. And I did. “I didn’t say that so you’d feel bad. I said it so you’d know we have more in common than you think.”

He laughed softly, and I wanted to wrap the sound around me like a blanket. “I didn’t think we had anything in common, if I’m honest.”

“Pleasantly surprised?” I asked. “Or terribly disappointed?”

“Bit of both, to be fair.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“You tell me something.”

“I just did.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“It was in response to my thing.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t something.”

“Hey, wankers, some of us are trying to sleep,” Lola said at full volume, making both of us jump.

“Saved by the bell,” Oliver said. “Don’t think I won’t hold you to this.”

“Fine by me,” I said. “Plenty of time to think of a suitable lie.”

“What am I to do with you?”

“Go to sleep,” Lola said. “That’s what you’re to do.”

We both laughed, and Lola pulled the covers up over her head.

“Good night, Willow.”

“Good night, Oliver.”

“And good night, Lola,” we said at the same time, before rolling over and finally nodding off to sleep.