Page 39 of A Witch in Notting Hill

Oliver

I ’d dreamt of Willow quite a bit since she’d arrived. I’d had more than my fair share of fantasies. More than a few late nights with visions of her in the shower, undressing for bed, showing up at my flat...

And not a single one held a candle to the real thing. Even as a bookshop owner, I didn’t have the imagination required to conjure something so beautiful.

The flush of her cheeks, the way she said my name, her full lips and her full chest and her full ass, each a work of art in their own right. She was magnetic. I could live a thousand lifetimes and still not be able to get enough of her.

“I can hear you thinking,” she whispered from where she lay on my chest. “What’s going on in there?”

“I don’t want this night to end,” I answered honestly.

“Good thing it doesn’t have to.” I could hear her smile. “In case you’ve forgotten, we have to stay awake until tomorrow. Or tonight. I have no idea what time it is.”

She stretched over me to reach her phone on the nightstand, and the light illuminated her face just in time for me to see her expression change completely. A full 180. Elated to confused to angry in a matter of seconds.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up underneath her arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone saw me.” She spoke slowly, scrolling through what looked like hundreds of notifications. “Saw us .”

“What?”

“In the woods. Kissing. Someone saw us.”

She turned her phone screen so I could see it, and I tried to keep my expression neutral. Tried not to add fuel to the fire. But there we were, only slightly blurry, kissing on the lantern path.

“My god, Willow, I am so sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“I was supposed to protect you.” I got out of bed and ran my hands through my hair, trying to make sense of how I got so lost that I let this happen. “And instead I was the one who took your mask off. And I was the one who wasn’t on the lookout for anyone else.”

“And I was the one who kissed you,” she said. “I’m not your responsibility, Oliver. Even if you’ve put that on yourself. I knew the risks, and I too chose to ignore them.”

“That rustle in the leaves—”

“I know.”

“I should have done something.” Why didn’t I do something? How could I have been the one to let this happen?

Before I could spiral any further, we heard the same rustling again. Only this time it wasn’t from the video on Willow’s phone. It was from outside the window.

“That couldn’t—”

“There’s no way—”

“They’re here?” I jumped out of bed to push back the curtain just enough that I could see outside, and I regretted it immediately. “Don’t move,” I said.

“Of course they followed us,” she groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Please don’t go out there.”

“Why not? Someone needs to tell them to get the hell out of your garden.”

“Yeah, and if it’s you, your face will be all over the tabloids tomorrow. Next to my face.”

“Nervous that other bloke will see?” I teased, though I wasn’t entire sure I was joking. Could that have been the real reason she didn’t want anyone to see us together?

“What bloke?” she asked, scrolling her phone again, undoubtedly reading something unpleasant judging by the look on her face.

“That bloke you were seeing . . .”

“Oh, right, er, that bloke.” When she looked up at me, I saw the truth written all over her face.

“There never was a bloke, was there?” Everything was unraveling. Coming apart one string at a time to the chorus of paparazzi outside. And it was too late to stop it.

“Does that matter right now?” she asked, gesturing outside. “We’ve got paparazzi outside the house, Oliver. We’re trapped in here until they leave.”

“Perfect,” I said. “That’ll give you plenty of time to tell me why you lied about the guy.”

She heaved a frustrated sigh, and I wondered if she was frustrated that she’d lied in the first place or frustrated I’d found her out.

“Does it even matter at all?” she said. “It definitely didn’t stop us from doing whatever we wanted, obviously.” She gestured to the unmade bed and the pile of most of our clothes still on the floor. “Even though that was the whole point of the lie in the first place.”

“The whole point of the lie was what? To keep us apart?”

“Yes,” she groaned, “and while I’d love to explain myself, I’d love it even more if the paparazzi wasn’t outside my door.”

Before either of us could say another word, there was a pounding on the door. Loud, persistent, more than one set of knuckles.

“Willow! Come out and give us a statement, love!”

“Miss James, just a few questions!”

“Are they serious?” I asked. “They’re at the door?”

“Who’s the bloke, Willow?”

“We’d love to see the both of ya!”

“They are definitely serious,” she said. “This is what they do.”

“And you have to live like this?”

“I’m sure now you can understand my need for privacy.”

Anger pricked the back of my neck like a thousand tiny needles. Didn’t they realize she was a human being? How could they treat someone this way? How could I have let this happen?

“Miss James, what about Kit Hayes?”

I narrowed my eyes at the exact moment Willow widened hers. “I thought there was no Kit?”

“There isn’t.”

“So why are the reporters asking about him?”

“I don’t know, Oliver,” she snapped, and I realized now was not the time for this conversation.

“Are you having an affair?”

“Who’s the dark-haired gentleman?”

“Is this why you’ve run off to London?”

“An affair?” she said. “Jesus Christ.”

“And you’ve no idea why they think this?”

“Don’t you think I’d have told you if I did?”

“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “About any of this. But I do know if we’re going to think at all, they need to get the fuck out of the garden.”

Before she could stop me, I closed the bedroom door behind me and stormed toward the front. I knew it was probably better not to provoke them, but I couldn’t let this carry on. I had too much momentum to slow down. Even with Willow calling to me from her bedroom.

When I flung the door open, I was met with blinding camera flashes and incoherent shouting.

“Sir, over here!”

“Are you and Miss James having an affair?”

“Where’s Kit Hayes?”

“You have about thirty seconds to get the fuck out of the garden before the police arrive,” I lied. “So if no one wants a trespassing arrest, I suggest you leg it. Now.”

One by one, they dragged their sorry arses from the garden, muttering to one another and spewing obscenities in my direction as they left.

When they finally all cleared out and I turned back around, I saw Willow standing in her doorway.

Arms crossed, wearing my shirt, leaning on the doorjamb like a bloody painting.

“I hope you’re prepared to be all over the media,” she said. “Shirtless. Shouting at paparazzi to get the fuck out of the garden.”

“Are you mad?”

“Grateful,” she said. “And maybe a little mad. I would have liked to have handled it without a scene, so our night wouldn’t end up all over the internet. But I am glad they’re gone. ”

“I’m sorry, Willow. I just couldn’t sit around while they harassed you like that.”

“Now they’re going to be harassing you , too,” she said.

“Hell if I care.” And it was the truth. I only cared about Willow. They could say whatever they wanted about me. I doubted I’d even see it in the first place. “They can say whatever they want about me. But they can’t be banging on your door and shouting accusations and thinking that’s okay.”

“It never stops,” she said. “They’re gone now, and I’m grateful for that, but now they know where I am. They know who you are. Or at the very least that you’re someone I was kissing in the middle of the night in the woods at a full moon festival. How am I going to explain any of this?”

“Don’t you have a team for that?”

“She’s a cat!” Willow threw her hands in the air and collapsed back onto the bed.

“Which I know you don’t believe, so you probably think I’m an idiot, but I’m serious, Oliver.

And now I have to navigate this mess on top of that mess.

And I’m not blaming you. I know I also created this.

But we could have done without the shirtless shouting at the crack of dawn. ”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

“Doesn’t matter much anyway, does it?”

“What’s that mean?”

“If the media now knows where I am and thinks I’m having an affair, it’s not like we can be running around the city together, can we?

I don’t even know why they think I’m with Kit in the first place.

Who knows what other false information they have, and who knows how much worse I can make it by being seen all over the city with you. ”

They say when you’re at rock bottom, the only place to go is up. But no one ever says when you’re on top of the world, the only place to go is down.

The swing from the highest high to whatever this was right now was so dramatic it was hard to wrap my head around. We’d finally spent the night together, finally gave in to the building tension of the last several months, only to have to cut ties in the blink of an eye?

I paced the length of her bedroom, lacing my fingers behind my head and trying to steady myself.

“But why did you tell me you were seeing him in the first place?” I asked. Maybe if I had all the facts it would be easier to make sense of this.

“I thought it would make it easier to put some distance between us. It was Vera’s idea.”

“Vera . . . the cat?”

“The manager.”

“Who’s the cat?”

“Oliver.”

“Sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”

“Are you? Because from here it sounds like you’re passing judgment.”

None of this was coming out right. Or all of it was coming out exactly as I meant it and I needed to get myself in check. I was passing judgment. And if I actually cared about this woman, which I did, deeply, then I needed to lose the attitude.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sinking onto the edge of the bed beside her. “It’s just... it’s all a lot right now.” I took a deep breath and tried again. “Why, exactly, did you want to put distance between us?”