Page 71 of How to Flirt with a Witch

I stifle a laugh, heat blooming in my cheeks as she recounts the details of my personal space. My heart flutters uncontrollably at her cute half-smile, her closeness and warmth, her searching gaze.

My phone lights up with a text.

Clayton

Hey, we’re studying at the cafe over lunch if you want to join.

His blunt, exclamation-mark free message hints that he’s still feeling awkward about his advances on New Year’s Eve.

Katie

Thanks, I won’t be able to make it today though.

In my periphery, Natalie looks sideways at my phone.

“Classmate,” I explain.

She says nothing.

“Are you jealous?” I tease, shamelessly hoping for a specific answer.

“Do youwantme to be jealous?” she asks.

I narrow my eyes.

“You should be taking notes,” she adds.

“Yeah, yeah.” I grab my pen again and try to pay attention—but the invisible threads between us continue to pull tight, more questions fighting their way forward. “How did you and Sky get into your lines of work? Is it because you can do earth magic?”

The corner of her mouth quirks, pulling my attention to her lips. They’re the perfect shape, so smooth and full.

She glances at the prof, like she’s considering telling me we can talk about this later—but to my delight, she leans in, dipping her head closer to mine. “All witches can do the same magic. Our roles are more like career paths, and we’re sorted into them as teenagers based on our personalities and strengths. For Shadows, they have to be physically fit, fearless, and have strong morals. Like, you can’t hesitate to take someone down when the time comes, but you need to keep a level head.”

Makes sense, from what I saw of Sky. “And your job?”

“Guardians have to be ready to do whatever it takes to track down a curse. You can’t be afraid to come face-to-face with a dangerous one. You’ve also got to be a little outgoing because it can be a social career.”

I hum. I could summon bravery, but the ‘outgoing and social’ part would be my downfall.

“The goal is to nab items before they fall into the wrong hands,” she says, “which is why I’m on call as a vet. My first job was at a recycling depot. Found a couple of cursed electronics in my time there.”

I try to picture a teenage Natalie. Was she lanky and pimply like I was? At what age did she grow into this absolute goddess?

“I guess odd jobs like piano tuning and working at a thrift shop would also be appropriate?” I venture.

Her eyebrows shoot up.

I smile. “I may have done a bit of research after we met.”

She studies me, a glint of amusement in her eyes. She hasn’t leaned away, and the closeness makes my insides simmer.

“Were you happy when they made you a Guardian, or would you have wanted to be something else?” I ask.

She frowns. The prof’s words drift somewhere in the distance, an incomprehensible murmur. Finally, she says, “Nobody’s asked me that before.”

Her arms are pinned to her sides, like she would be more comfortable if she could spread them out—maybe sling one over the back of my chair.

The silence stretches on, and when it’s clear she’s not going to answer my question, I ask, “What other careers are there?”