Page 28 of How Not to Hex a Gentleman (Witches of Edinburgh)
Chapter Twenty-Eight
KENNEDY
M y body is abuzz from Bennett's simple compliment as I prepare myself not to break my neck going down these much-too-dangerous stairs. He delivered it as a fact and there's something so incredibly attractive about that, now I can't get his voice out of my head.
"Would you like a picture together?" The girl at the door stops us before we can head down, and I glance at Bennett, slightly frozen. He nods, almost eagerly, handing over his phone. I step back over to him and we turn to face the girl. Suddenly, I don't know what to do with my hands—or the rest of my body for that matter. Bennett steps up beside me and I feel a slight pressure on the small of my back. I glance up at him and find him watching me with a soft look in his eyes, and then before I know what I'm doing, I break out into a grin, leaning a little more fully against him. We stand like that for a long moment, with the wind twirling around us and the feel of being the only two people in the whole world.
"Here you go." The girl's voice breaks through our staring contest and we both turn to find her grinning at us as she hands Bennett his phone. He thanks her and then leads me down the tower.
We thank the lady at the bottom of the stairs and then step back out. The few minutes it took us to descend the stairs made the outside much darker, but there are spotlights on the buildings, so I can see them well. I walk straight toward the National Monument, marveling at how they could build half of it and then never go back to finish it.
And also marveling at the fact that I think my brain malfunctioned there for a moment. Did we even take a picture?
There are people around the monument, taking pictures, but we're losing light fast. I take out my phone and snap a few, suddenly in need of remembering this moment. My magic is buzzing right under my skin, like it too is feeling the array of emotions.
"Do you want to climb up there?" Bennett's voice breaks through my thoughts and I turn my head to find him right behind me. It would take barely any movement on my part to lean back against him and I fight the urge to do so. Whatever this thing between us is, it feels almost as monumental as this monument. I don't want to look back at it later and find it half-finished.
The reality of that slams into me, nearly taking the breath out of my lungs. This is a lot deeper than some passing like—this feels like a connection of epic proportions—which terrifies me to no end. What do I do with all of these feelings? What if his aren't as deep as mine?
"Hey." Bennett steps around so he can pear down into my face, but I can't meet his eyes now. Instead, I stare at the buttons on his coat, determined to memorize them. "Kennedy." There's a tone behind my name, a tone I can't seem to ignore. He says it with so much gentleness, like it's the most precious word in the world. My skin feels like it's on fire.
Bennett's hand grabs mine, pulling me away from the monument and toward the collection of trees and bushes on the right. I'm too blinded by my emotions to protest and then I'm too stunned to speak, as he drops my hand and cups my face in both of his.
"Kennedy, you're glowing."
At first, I'm not sure what he means by that and then I feel it more than see it. My skin on fire was my magic—the power of it so large that it can't be contained. I've never lost control in this way before, but it seems that every time I'm around Bennett I learn something new about my magic.
"Do you see it?" I ask as I raise my hand between us, letting the tiny sparks dance, hovering over the top of my palm.
"I see it. You're beautiful."
My eyes fly up to meet his over the flying sparkles and the magnitude behind his gaze nearly takes me to my knees.
He sees me—all of me—and he thinks I'm beautiful.
He's not running away, he's staying right here, beside me. Watching over me, protecting me. His back is to the rest of the people, so I'm not seen by busybody onlookers.
All of these little truths are wrapped into one Bennett MacKay and when the tears come, I'm not even surprised.
"Oh." Bennett's face immediately transforms into one of worry while his eyes roam over me as if trying to see if I'm hurt anywhere. "Did I do something? Tell me how to fix it."
"You didn't do anything," I say, as I let the magic go, sending little sparks into the air.
"I keep messing up, don't I?" he asks before his hand is on my cheek and the gentle swipe of his finger catches my tear. My body bursts out in goosebumps and I want to move closer.
"Bennett—"
"I'm sorry, I never seem to know what to say or do around you," he says, his gaze steady on mine as he finally retracts his hand and stuffs it in his pocket. He looks so unsure of himself and I have an almost irresistible desire to hug him, but he's still rambling. His accent is so much more pronounced than I've ever heard it before, sending tiny goosebumps over my skin.
"Am I being too much? Should I give you more space? I'm not—I keep acting like a complete idiot around you and I can't seem to help it. Even though I want to be able to help it and not act like a lunatic because I like you and I want you to like me, but it's like I'm incapable of being a normal human being around you and I keep making things worse and I have no idea how to tell you how I feel and?—"
He freezes, his eyes round as if he doesn't realize his slip, but I'm sure I look crazy, grinning at him like an idiot. "I think you just did."
BENNETT
I'm silently cursing the winter daylight hours because what I wanted to do was pull Kennedy right into my arms. Instead, we got interrupted by one of the workers, telling us to head down because the sun has set.
We make our way down the steep decline and I try to control my impulse to reach out and take Kennedy's hand. She didn't seem opposed to my confession. In fact, she's never smiled at me quite like that before, but she didn't exactly proclaim her own feelings and I might be freaking out—internally. And slightly externally.
"Are you hungry?" I ask when step back out on the street. "I did ask you for dinner, and we haven't eaten yet. Sorry about that. I?—"
"Do you like Mòr Bakehouse?" Kennedy interrupts me, turning so she stops right in front of me. I nearly run into her but catch myself at the last moment. Her words don't register at first and when she takes the front of my jacket into her hand and pulls me behind her my brain completely leaves the station. I follow obediently until we stop in front of the bakery, and finally, her words make sense.
"Are you sure you don't want some sit-down restaurant? There are loads around here."
"Could we grab a Cornish pasty and some coffee and head to the fountain?"
She looks so unsure of herself suddenly, my protective instincts explode. If she asked for the stars right now, looking at me like that, I would go get them.
"Yes, that sounds great. You're not too cold?"
"No, I'm perfect."
You are . I swallow the words before they can escape because I feel like I've already word-vomited all over this non-date and now I have no idea where we stand.
We get in line behind a few people and Kennedy focuses her attention on the array of baked goods, while I focus my attention on her. In my typical fashion, I’m overthinking everything. But no, I won't take any of it back. It was time I told her how I felt and now I will just have to deal with the consequences of my actions.
My thoughts are once again interrupted when I'm asked to order, and I insist on paying before we walk away with our steak pasties and hot lattes. Kennedy holds both in her hands, not eating or drinking.
"Did you want to sit down and eat?" I ask as we pass a few benches near St James Quarter.
"Could we eat at Princes Street Gardens?"
"Of course."
We navigate the crowds of people, keeping close to each other, but not quite touching. We keep getting separated as people pass by and I really want to be holding her hand right about now. It takes us no time at all to reach Princes Street Gardens and head down the stairs toward the fountain.
"Did you know," Kennedy begins, her voice low and a little unsure, "the first night I arrived in Edinburgh, the girls and I went to the bakery and got this exact food before heading to the fountain?"
"I knew you had your tattoo event at the fountain. Is that when it happened?"
"Yes. We were all supposed to be living in individual flats but somehow we all ended up at our current one, so we went to the leasing office to speak to them about it, but it was closed. And then we were hungry, so it made sense."
There are benches lined up all along the walkway in the middle of the park, as well as a few near the fountain. It's cold outside but not windy. The fountain is on and the water sparkles in the strobe lights aimed at it. Kennedy beelines for the bench under the tree opposite the fountain and takes a seat, looking up at me expectedly. I nod and take a seat beside her. The benches are wide enough to fit four people, so I leave a little room between us. Then a man comes up to sit on the other side of me and I move closer to Kennedy to give him space. She scoots to the end of the bench and then reaches over for my coat and pulls me toward her. We end up side by side, and I think I stop breathing for a moment.
I have this problem often when I'm around her.
She takes a bite of her food and I follow suit. It seems like she's working herself up to saying something and I want to be fully engaged with whatever that is. It's another few minutes before she finally places her half-eaten pasty on her lap and looks out at the fountain.
"It seems that important things happen when I'm near the fountain. It feels only appropriate that I bring you here."
Everything in me freezes, anticipation heavy in my bones. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but jumping is exactly what I want to do if this is heading where I think this is heading.
"My life changed when I met the girls," she says, a gentle curl to her lips, "and it changed again when I met you." She takes a deep breath and then turns her body to face mine. I don't dare move, watching her face and the sparkle in her eye. "I think it's changing again."
"Changing?"
"Yes. Because when I met you, you drove me nuts. I think you still do, but in a different way." She reaches over suddenly and moves some of the hair off my forehead with her fingers. It's barely even a touch but I feel it throughout my whole being. "To answer the question you've been wanting to ask—yes. I like you too." She grins at me lighting up the whole park with that look on her face and spark in her eyes and I think I'm officially the happiest man alive.