Page 67 of Hopelessly Teavoted
Az: Got it. Send me more pictures of those boots later. I’ll be tired after Kelley picks Milo up, but never too tired for you.
Vickie smiled and set her phone on the counter. There really was nowhere to put it in this outfit. Nowhere she wanted to reach into while working, anyway.
The scent of cinnamon whirled through the air as Hazel and Cole, the college freshman she’d hired in the spring to help staff more flexible hours, refilled coffees and teas. Now that October was in full swing, the scent of spiced pumpkin and apples lingered in the air for Sultry Sunday.
She waved at Hank, whose plate was empty, and pointed in the wordless exchange she and her favorite patron enjoyed. He nodded enthusiastically, and she strode back to the ovens to grab the last batch of pumpkin spice donuts.
Azrael had helped her magic the dough into perfect heart and skull shapes this morning before he left to go back home and babysit as a favor to Aurora, the charming coworker who was currently in the shop, knees brushing her date’s in a booth in the corner.
She delivered a plate of the donuts to Kelley and Aurora after Hank for good measure.
They looked like a pair who would want a set of hearts and skulls, especially after Aurora’s terrible experience with Chet—who, rumor had it, had run away to Florida to escape gambling debts, leaving the English department in the care of one Mr. Azrael Hart.
Azrael deserved this opportunity, and he’d earned it, interview and all.
And Aurora deserved the kind of wholesome goodness of the young widow Watson.
Goddess knew Kelley Watson deserved a little sweetness after losing her husband at age twenty-three, and with a brand-new baby too.
Even if babysitting Milo might be making Azrael a little too keen on babies. This was the fifth Milo pic he’d sent her, and she could feel how much he loved kids.
Not that she was ready to have any anytime soon, especially while she was just finally getting the shop into a good rhythm, but she was surprised by how nice the idea sounded.
The past year with Az had felt like coming home, but to the kind of home she had never really known.
The kind of home she hadn’t expected, that was lined with the wrought-iron snapping gates and shadowy, misty willows of Hart Manor.
For now, she wanted her own space in the apartment, which Azrael had helped her clean out, magicking the old boxes of trinkets to the home gym formerly known as a sex dungeon so that he could go through them.
One day, she wanted to move into Hart Manor, and she knew the house wanted her to, as well, for Azrael’s bedroom had expanded and sprouted a pink jetted soaking tub next to the shower in his black marble bathroom, and an entire extra walk-in closet.
Every time she was there, it snuck in a bouquet of flowers or a piece of art that seemed selected just for her, until she was not terribly certain if it was Az or the house or both, welcoming her at her own pace, showing she had a place there, whether it was tomorrow, five years from now, or just on weekends for the rest of their lives.
Behind the counter, Cole was leaning close to Hazel, whose pink curls bobbed around her like a halo and picked up the warm tones of her dark brown skin. Cole raised a pale, freckled hand in front of their face to hide whatever they were saying, and Hazel shook with laughter.
When Vickie walked toward them, the two went quiet, blissfully unaware that she could overhear most of what they had been saying about what sounded like an extremely nice girl with a crush on Hazel. Cole, apparently, was that ship’s biggest stan.
Good. She loved young love. She’d seen this type of film before, and she liked the ending.
“Hey, Vickie. So, are things pretty serious with Mr. Hart?” Brown eyes bored innocently into hers, mischief pulling the girl’s lips upward.
Shaking her head, Vickie smiled at Hazel.
“Never mind, Hazel. Did you refill the sugars?”
“I got it, boss,” said Cole, walking away and abandoning her to Hazel’s inquisition.
“Come on, he’s not my teacher this semester. You can tell me.”
“Listen. Hazel, I’ve known Azrael Hart for longer than you’ve been alive. I’m too old to be sharing business like that, and you’ve got far more interesting things to think about than a high school English teacher’s girlfriend.”
Hazel grinned and threaded her fingers together.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. He’s not my teacher this year, but still. There is literally nothing more interesting to me in this moment. And you just admitted you’re his girlfriend.”
Vickie shrugged and shook her head again.
“Tell me how you guys met.”
“He was my neighbor for as long as I can remember. I’ve been dancing in his bedroom with a hairbrush as a microphone since before I knew that men or women could give me fuzzy feelings.”
“That’s pretty dope,” said Hazel. “I bet you’re great at hairbrush karaoke.”
“Oh, absolutely. Firstly, I am always willing to dress the part.” Vickie gestured at the music video–inspired outfit she was wearing now. “And secondly, I’m goddess awful at singing, but I don’t care, and Azrael never has either.”
“Yeah,” said Hazel, smiling. “He seems like the type to take you just as you are. Relationship goals.”
Vickie smiled. She thought Azrael would appreciate modeling healthy love for his students.
Life was messy and complicated, and there was plenty of grief and loss that lingered in her heart, and in his.
But he had still picked the perfect time to drop into her life, full of complications and rejections—the parents who had disowned her, the power that had almost consumed him.
And yet, despite it all, she knew he loved her fully just as she was.
There would be moments of doubt, of course, but no more self-loathing about clinginess.
No more fear of losing her most important friendship.
Azrael Hart had picked the perfect time to make himself hers. And she would do as much work as it took to make sure he was as blissfully happy as he had always deserved to be.