Page 40 of How to Flirt with a Witch

“Cool.” I drag a hand along the books, feeling for anything weird. My fingers bump from spine to spine. “Are the staff at the vet clinics in on it?”

She shakes her head. “All they know is to call me if something inexplicable comes up.”

At least there’s that. I’d be furious if the random employees at Helping Paws knew the secrets I’ve been agonizing over. “So how did you get into this line of work?”

“That’s also something I can’t tell you.”

I round on her, annoyed. “Natalie!”

She steps in close. Really close. I lean back against the bookshelf, the wooden edges pressing into my back. Looking up at her, every fiber in my body is begging her to keep going.

“Katie.” Her breath hits my cheeks, cool and fresh. She reaches up to tug one of my curls, studying it, and heat ripples through my scalp and down my neck. “Stop trying to understand all this. I’m protecting you from something you don’twantto understand.”

She meets my gaze with her intense, dark eyes, pausing for long enough for me to dip my chin in the smallest of nods.

“This life comes with a price,” she murmurs. Then she turns away, leaving me breathless against the bookshelf.

My lips tingle, my body aching. I’ve never wanted to lean in and close the distance more. Does she realize how hot that was? Was that supposed to be threatening?

I shake my head and force my legs to move, hurrying to catch up. Something life-changing is dangling just out of reach, and I’m not ready to drop the subject. “What if Idowant to understand, despite whatever cost? What if I can be helpful? Let me be your penguin.”

She faces me. “My what?”

“Penguin. Like the way penguins bring pebbles to each other. I can bring you curses. I can help you do your job.” It’s hard to keep the desperation out of my tone. This strange and unique ability feels like a calling, a purpose. I can’t ignore it.

She scans me up and down, a flicker of something in her eyes. Regret? Whatever it is, she seems to consider my offer, and my heart jumps.

But she frowns and walks toward the door. “Buy the slow cooker if you want it, and let’s try another thrift shop.”

I scowl after her.

She waits outside while I take my purchase to the cash register in a huff. The more time I spend with her, the more frustrated I get, both with her lack of answers and in other—um—biological ways.

As I pay, something snags my attention in a vintage mirror behind the till. Someone is looking at me—a man in his twenties with fair skin and blond hair. His gaze is intentional, like he’s studying me or waiting for me.

I look over my shoulder, but he’s focused on the rack of clothes in front of him. Hangers squeak as he riffles through shirts.

Weird. His stare lingers on the back of my neck like a physical touch.

“Do you want a receipt?” the girl at the till asks.

I face her again. “No, thanks.”

I cradle the slow cooker in my arms and head for the door, ready to persevere. Ihaveto find a curse for Natalie.

But an hour later, after scouring two more shops, defeat weighs heavy in the air. Either I failed or there were no curses to be found. The possibility of failing stings—an intense, burning disappointment in myself, like when I get anything less than an A on an exam. But even worse is the thought of this being the end of our time together… that she’s going to drop me off and say a last goodbye soon.

We drive back, and as Natalie turns down my street, I lean against the headrest and break the long silence. “Sorry that was a waste of time.”

She parks out front and angles her body to face me. “Katie. That was not a waste of time. If anything, I wasted your time by taking you on a goose chase.”

“It was a fun goose chase. I liked it.”I liked being with you.

The unspoken words hang between us.

Her expression softens, her eyebrows pulling down. I want her to say something like “same,” but she says nothing.

My pulse speeds up. The way we’re facing each other in her car, sitting outside my place, feels like the end of a date.