Page 30 of Charmed, I’m Sure (Witches of Bellevue #1)

I tried to give myself a pep talk as I backed out of my parking spot, but that had never been my strong suit, especially when logic was applied.

“Exhaustion is just a state of mind.” No, it’s not; your body needs rest to recharge. Exhaustion is your body’s way of saying you need to slow down.

“Two hours isn’t that long of a drive.” True, but it’s a hell of a lot longer after a cluster-fuck of a twelve-hour shift when you haven’t really slept in three days.

“I just need to drink some coffee. Maybe grab an energy drink when I hit the gas station.” Yeah, because that’s a super healthy alternative to actually sleeping.

As I came to a stop sign, I tilted my head back against the headrest and heaved a sigh as the last piece of my pep talk sank into place, which was the only thing that logical me could agree with.

“Seeing Magnolia will make it all worth it.” Yeah, it will.

It was just about a quarter after eight by the time I got back in the car, so I sent a text to Meredith to let her know I was on my way and what time I should arrive.

When her text response popped up on my navigation screen, I clicked it and let the system read it to me in its femininely robotic voice.

“Meredith Bellevue says: ‘thumbs up emoji, bring coffee or else.’ Would you like to respond?”

“No,” I answered with a chuckle. I might not know much about Magnolia’s sisters, but it seemed they were three peas in a pod from the limited interactions I’d had with them.

“Okay,” the navigation chimed, then faded out so the stereo could play; Hey Ho by the Lumineers filled the cab as I hopped onto the highway.

Magnolia

I’d never been an early riser or a morning person, and today was no different. After the clusterfuck that was my first full catering job in months and after falling asleep on Meredith’s uncomfortable couch, I was sore. I was crabby. And I was in desperate need of a large cup of coffee.

Sunlight streamed through the windows in Meredith’s living room, but it was the clanging echoing from the kitchen that pierced through my slumber—if you could even call it that.

“What the fuck is going on?” I groaned as I sat up, brushing my messy hair out of my face so whoever was in the kitchen could fully appreciate my annoyance.

“Shut up,” Jae moaned from her spot on the floor opposite the coffee table.

“Both of you shut up. Bunch of whiny babies,” Mer said as she began moving around the kitchen, mumbling to herself.

“What the fuck are you on about?” I asked as I stood and stretched, my bladder waking with the movement and sending me scurrying to the bathroom.

“None of your fucking business!” Mer hollered as I pulled the door closed.

Okay, so none of us were morning people.

With a roll of my eyes, I did my business and then decided to shower while I was in there.

The hot water washed over me, gently pulling the last threads of sleep and exhaustion from my bones, soothing muscles that ached from the lumps in the cushions.

I let myself soak in the streams of hell’s finest water for a few minutes, then bathed and grabbed a towel from the hook next to the shower.

I dried quickly, wrapping the fluffy purple towel around me. But as I scrunched the water out of my hair with another towel, I heard the faint sound of a knock on the door.

“Hey, who was that?” I asked as I exited the bathroom, steam billowing out behind me as I walked toward the living room.

“Uh, Mags?” Jae questioned, her brows shooting into her hairline over wide eyes.

“What?” I quirked my own brows as I turned toward the door. There stood Taylor Hallows, holding a cup holder with three huge coffees, all topped with fluffy whipped cream and drizzled in chocolate and caramel.

His wide eyes raked down my frame, a faint pink coloring his cheeks while his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Hey, sunshine. I thought... uh... I’d bring you some coffee.”

I had to hand it to him—he had a lot more willpower than I did.

I don’t think I could have averted my eyes from a towel-clad Taylor as quickly as he pulled his gaze from me.

And if it hadn’t been for the way the pink in his cheeks deepened, and the way he cautiously handed the tray of coffees to Meredith as he turned his back to me, I probably would have been hurt.

What the fuck!? I mouthed. My eyes must have been as wide as saucers when they met the gazes of my friend and sister, both trying desperately not to laugh. They both mouthed “sorry” with a shrug, then Meredith flicked her head back toward her room.

Right.

Clothes.

Clothes would be good.

“Uh, thanks. I, um... I’ll be right back.” I had never run so fast in my life. Hand gripping the top of my towel, I sprinted toward the other side of the apartment. Throwing Meredith’s door closed behind me, I sagged against the white wood and expelled a ragged breath.

Why was he here? How did he know where I was? I mean, obviously, I knew I had told him I was at Meredith’s apartment, but how did he know where that was?

Panicked, I scrounged through Meredith’s closet, searching for anything that would work for an outfit.

We were the same size—though I had her on height—but we were not the same person.

I tended to gravitate toward jewel tones and dark shades.

Granted, there were days I could go for bright colors, but those were few and far between.

I liked jeans and comfortable tees, flowy skirts and dresses that toed the line between cottagecore and flirty grunge.

Was that a thing? Surely that was a thing, right?

Meredith, on the other hand, was a college student. One who opted for tiny shorts and oversized shirts that covered said shorts, making it look like she wasn’t wearing any.

And that was all I was finding at the moment.

I’d just sagged down the wall when my wonderful sister, with her limited wardrobe, came in with a mischievous grin on her face. But one look at me in a heap on the floor turned that grin into a grimace.

“Shit, Mags. I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d show up when you were half-naked,” she said with a laugh, her eyes scanning the small panicked mess I had made. “Not finding what you’re looking for?”

“All of your shorts are teeny-tiny, and your shirts are made for giants.”

“I’m sorry. You try sitting through two-hour lectures and see if you want to spend it in uncomfortable clothes,” she deadpanned, her hip cocking to the side as she crossed her arms.

She had a point. Burying my face in my hands, I screamed silently, muffling the sound.

“Feel better?”

“No,” I huffed into my hands before pulling them away.

“Breathe, sis. I have some bootcut jeans hanging in the back of the closet that should fit you, and you can borrow one of my purple off-the-shoulder sweaters. I’ve got some cute game day earrings you can loop through your tunnels.”

“Game day?”

“Yeaaah, you know, where guys in tight pants run around and catch a ball? And where us normal people drink and eat all day?”

“Please tell me he’s not planning on taking us tailgating.”

Meredith scoffed, then headed into her closet, presumably to pull out the clothes she mentioned, but her voice filtered out.

“Us? Nah, sis. You. And I don’t know what he’s planning, Mags.

But you can’t walk around campus on game day without the right colors on.

Learned that the hard way. Here,” she said when she emerged, her arm outstretched to help me to my feet while the other held two hangers draped over her shoulder.

Meredith stayed and chatted while I got dressed, then helped me put my still-damp hair into twin fishtail-French braids. But as I placed my hand on the doorknob, I paused and glanced down at my feet. “Uh, Mer?”

“What now? You look fabulous, if I do say so myself. I haven’t even worn those jeans yet because I need to get them hemmed, and I don’t think they’ll fit me quite as well as they fit you. Now I’m jealous.”

“You’re delusional, but thank you,” I replied with a chuckle. “But I need shoes. I wore my nonslip Danskos to the gig last night, and I don’t want to ruin your masterpiece.”

Meredith threw her head back with a groan, then rolled off her bed and stomped back into her closet. “You owe me!” she hollered from the depths of her walk-in.

When she emerged, the gasp I gusped was completely involuntary. “No. Mer, I can’t.”

“You can, and you will. But if you mess them up, you owe me two pairs.”

She skipped across her room with a sassy smile on her face and thrust the boots into my hands—her favorite boots.

Gorgeous warm brown leather with an eagle overlay and wingtips on the toes.

She’d saved for weeks to afford these Corral boots, and I’d only seen her wear them a handful of times since she got them.

“You’re sure?”

“Definitely. Now come on. Chop chop. The man drove two hours to see you and brought you coffee. If you don’t jump him, I might.” She threw a wink over her shoulder as she pulled the door open and headed into the living room.

Taking a deep breath for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning, I grabbed some socks from her dresser, plopped down on the edge of her bed, and pulled on the boots. Guess it was time to see if they were made for walking.