Page 34 of A Witch in Notting Hill

Willow

T his was happening. The candles were out and the bathroom was dark and I was terrified disaster was about to strike, but this was happening.

And if there was anything I could do to keep disaster at bay, now was the time to try.

There were times for panicking, and being in the shower with Oliver Hadley at my back was not one of them.

“Look up,” he said, and I resisted the urge to tease him for being bossy just in case it made him stop. I really, really didn’t want him to stop. So I did as I was told and tilted my head toward the ceiling.

He gathered my hair in his hands, brushing it off my face in smooth strokes. It felt heavenly. Like my body had never known the horrors of this morning.

He slid his large hands from the top of my head down the sides of my neck, settling them on my shoulders and digging his thumbs into the space between the blades. The rhythm of his touch nearly brought me to my knees.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” I murmured, letting my eyes close and my head drop to his shoulder. His laugh was quiet, and I was grateful for the layer of clothing between us, no matter how thin it might have been. Without it, there was no telling what I’d have done in that state.

I tried not to shiver as he traced his hands down the sides of my waist, massaging the same slow circles into my lower back. His fingers curled around my hips, and I took half a step closer to him.

“Willow,” he whispered in my ear, his lips just grazing the shell.

“I know,” I said. Because I did. And because hearing him say everything I was thinking would have reduced me to ashes and washed me down the drain.

We were getting carried away. And I knew better. But it was too good to stop.

I squeezed my eyes closed, fighting the tingling sensation that was beginning in my fingers at the very thought of him letting go.

This might have been the most I’d ever wanted to get a handle on my magic in a situation like this, and that had to count for something, didn’t it?

I said a silent prayer to the universe that whatever cruel forces were working against me would let up and that I could channel the James women before me to have a single romantic encounter without catastrophe. Please, let this one be it.

And for a moment, it almost felt like my prayers were answered.

Or like I’d actually managed to control my magic, instead of the other way around.

The tingling stopped. The water cooled just enough to notice.

Baby steps, but steps nonetheless. For a moment, it seemed like it might have been possible for me to actually have this.

Until Oliver released his hands from my lower back and wrapped both arms around my stomach, and it felt so good to be pressed against him I could feel it between my legs, and I started to lose it again.

The light fixture buzzed, hot steam billowed from the showerhead, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get it back. I wanted to scream.

Instead, I laid my hands over his, sliding them off my body no matter how badly I didn’t want to, and that was when the pipe blew.

A cracking explosion and a spray of water like a firehouse burst from beneath the sink, startling both of us from our trance.

“Bloody hell,” Oliver said, uncurling his arms from me and jumping out of the shower. Like he’d never been there at all. “What’s all this?”

I grabbed a towel from the rack and joined him at the sink, but I knew the answer to his question. I knew exactly what all this was.

Once again, I’d gotten caught in a moment and didn’t get myself out fast enough.

But it didn’t matter. Water was spraying all over the bathroom, and we had to do something about it.

“I’ve got it,” Oliver said, dodging the spray and trying to duck under the sink. With his back to me, I tried to remember the spell my mom taught me and Ivy that time we overflowed the washing machine. It was on the tip of my tongue. Something about a wish? Or a dish?

“D’you have a wrench?” Oliver asked. We’re not going to need it in a second , I refrained from adding aloud.

“Uh, let me look.”

I slipped out of the bathroom and pretended to look for a wrench while I thought of the spell. Come on, Willow. You know this.

The bathroom was flooding more by the minute, and I already feared for my security deposit. It was such a silly spell. Like a nursery rhyme. We used to sing it when Mom made us do chores or when the garden hose turned freezing cold.

“Willow?”

“Just a minute!”

Think.

“It’s a proper wash in here,” Oliver called.

A wash.

I wish, I wish

There was a wash,

A wash that would wish,

A wish to wash,

And when that wash

Would then be dry

We wouldn’t even have to try!

I repeated it a few more times in my head to make sure I had it right before I slipped back into the bathroom as quietly as possible—which wasn’t hard given the noise of the rushing water—and whispered the spell as earnestly as I could.

Said it two, three times, watching in disbelief as the water slowed to a dribble. Holy shit.

Oliver whipped around from under the sink, bumping the back of his head on the way out. “What’d you do? Turn off the water?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, figuring his suggestion was a better lie than I’d have come up with. Only apparently I wasn’t as convincing as I’d hoped, because he leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms like he didn’t believe a word I said.

Fine. If he wanted the truth, I could give him that. And if he chose not to believe it, well, that was on him.

“It was a spell,” I said with a sigh, trying not to notice the flick of his eyes toward the ceiling. “A simple one we used to do as kids. A little rusty, but it still works,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, which was a mistake.

“I don’t understand,” he said eventually, blowing out a measured breath.

“Are you trying to?” Silence. “Why can’t you?”

“Why can’t I believe?”

“Why can’t you try ?” I said. “Would that really be so hard? To consider that my experience is real?” I didn’t expect my chin to wobble, but saying it out loud made me realize how frustrated I’d become.

“It’s not that I don’t think it’s real for you,” he said, and the words carved themselves into my chest. “It’s just.

..” He ran both hands through his hair, undoubtedly looking for the right words to communicate whatever had been so stuck in his throat.

“I used to. Sort of. As I kid, I was more open to thinking that kind of thing. But over time, as I grew up, it just... it stopped making sense. I started to see the logical explanation for everything I might have once thought was magic, and then eventually I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought magic was real at all. ”

So it was possible. If Oliver believed once, couldn’t he do it again?

“And you don’t think you could ever change your mind? I mean, you changed it once before. Would it really be so hard to change it back?”

“Yes,” he said through his teeth. Like he didn’t want to say it. Like he might not have even believed it. “Because now I have the facts.”

“And me using a spell to shut off the water wasn’t fact enough for you?”

“You saw how it abruptly turned on,” he said, his voice softer than a minute ago, like he was letting me down gently. “It could have turned off the same way.”

“But I’m telling you it didn’t.”

Another deep breath. “It’s hard, Willow. To go back on everything I’ve known. Things work a certain way. There are laws and rules that make the world make sense. And I just don’t see how magic fits into that.”

I didn’t say anything for a while. Just tried to get my breathing under control.

Tried not to cry. Tried not to believe he was like everyone else.

“Right,” I said eventually, because I was at a loss for anything else.

“Well, now that I’ve recovered from this morning and the water is off, I’m sure you’re dying to get home, so—”

“Willow—”

“No, no, it’s fine, really.” We were both still soaking wet, and I was ushering him to the door.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right alone here?” he asked from the doorway, his concern written all over his face.

“She’s hardly alone,” Vera called from the other room.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, ignoring her. It probably sounded like nothing more than a meow to Oliver. I needed him out of my flat, and I didn’t have time to explain any more magic to someone determined not to understand it.

“Do call me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean it, Willow.”

“Okay.”

He nodded once, then disappeared out the door and down the stairs. I tried not to clock the reluctant set of his shoulders or the frustrated hand he raked through his damp hair, but I wasn’t blind. And he wasn’t the only one struggling.

When I turned back into the flat, Vera was sitting in the doorway.

“Don’t,” I said.

“I won’t, but only because you’ve had a hell of a morning.

” She retreated into the flat, climbing onto the couch and settling on a stack of pillows in the corner.

“But this isn’t sustainable, Willow. You’re going to have to sort it out one way or another.

I can see how much you like each other and how much the magic is getting in the way. ”

“I thought you said I’d had a hell of a morning?”

“Trust me, there’s a lot more I’d like to say. But for right now, all I’ll say is you need to consider the next act of this story. It’s going to be here before you know it. But I know you know that. So let’s drop it and have a relaxing rest of the day. What do you say?”

“That sounds good,” I said, and sighed. “The relaxing part, anyway.” She was right. I knew that better than anyone, which meant we didn’t have to talk about it now. Instead, we could mindlessly watch too many episodes of Gossip Girl with a bowl of popcorn between us and pretend everything was fine.

Though this was a lie I wasn’t even sure I could tell myself. People didn’t believe in magic all the time, but it never hurt this bad.