Page 13 of Of Poison & Pumpkins (Of Witches & Men #3)

CHAPTER NINE

Rynn

W hat in the Crone is happening? Have I stumbled into an alternate universe? There’s no chance Elias had a crush on me in high school, too.

I stare as he tries to cover his bare chest with the towel I threw at him.

Yes, sir, please cover up. I do not need a third glance at the trail of hair running from his belly button into his pants.

Who am I kidding? At this point, it’d be a tenth glance.

Sure, he may not have won the yearbook’s category of ‘ Most likely to book a modeling agency’ in high school, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t vote for him.

The rest of the student body obviously knew him better than I did by granting him the title of ‘ Most likely to be the last in line in the cafeteria, so everyone else gets the best food first .’

“If I what, Sunflower? I’ll do whatever you want for a chance to take you out. Name your price,” he says. “And hurry, because I need to shower. So, I’m gonna finish stripping soon.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” I glare.

“Procrastination costs you,” he says, scooting out of his shoes, shortening him an inch or two.

All I can think of is that a half-naked Elias is toying with me. If I don’t get my brain to start working, this could end terribly—or amazingly.

“If you help me,” I say, hearing how strained my voice sounds—gargled.

“You’re delaying on purpose, aren’t you?” Elias’s wicked grin mesmerizes me as he yanks off his socks.

Two pieces of clothing stand between him and the star of my sex dreams. How would this one play out?

The one when he bends me over the back of the couch?

Or the one when he lays me flat on my kitchen counter?

My personal favorite is when I create a version of Elias who drips chocolate syrup over my stomach and licks his way down my body.

“Your cheeks are pink.” He bites his lip.

“Are not.” I bite my lip to mirror him, studying how he react. “First, we have to find the lady who stole my enchanted paint.”

“And then?”

I cross my arms and nod to his crotch. “I may need convincing to tell you more.”

His brows shoot towards his hairline. “Oh, really? I can manage that.” Using those big hands of his, Elias unbuttons his pants. Zipper swipes down. Fabric falls into a pile at his feet. Only his briefs are left. Which end over enormous quads. He has a body built from rowing. Ugh, kill me now.

“And the second favor?” he asks playfully. “What do you need from me?”

I think a puff of air explodes from my lips. Or maybe I moaned. How dare this beautiful, damning, son-of a …

“Rynnlee?”

“Hhm?”

“Eyes up here, Sunflower.”

“Oh.”

I spin to face the kitchen and push my hands against my forehead. Focus on something else. Anything else. Because I’m clenching and releasing my most intimate muscles like a damned warm-up.

Okay, enough is enough. Working with Elias will be a train wreck if I don’t sleep with him, and soon, because how else am I supposed to focus on my store with this distraction dangling in front of me? So, yes, the date is a good excuse to get under him. I take a deep breath and turn back around.

His smirk could start a forest fire. With the towel wrapped around the back of his neck, both hands holding onto the ends of the fabric, he stands like a piece of art. My eyes roam up and down his body, devouring his tattooed chest, then up again. Desire zings through my core.

“Fuck it. You wanna?” I ask and take a step forward. “I have plenty of condoms.”

Elias’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t say a single word. Maybe he didn’t expect me to initiate the whole thing. But, hey, I love sex. Porter may be my most texted number at midnight, with Tristan as my backup, but neither of them have the stamina that I’d imagine from an athlete like Elias.

And yet, even teetering on the edge of desire, I hesitate, remembering what waits beneath my own clothes.

I’ve never cared about showing my skin to a partner.

But for some reason, I’m self-conscious about Elias knowing about my eczema.

His acceptance of my difference is vital; I wouldn’t be able to go on if he rejected me after seeing the spots and rashes on my legs.

Could I truly allow myself to be vulnerable with him someday?

Why does the idea of that make my knees wobble?

Crap. I can’t do this. He’s not the same as Porter or Tristan.

“I was joking,” I say, attempting a light laugh. “Go shower, Long John.”

He covers his briefs with his hands and backs away into the bathroom. When the door closes, I sink to the ground. Why in the Abyss did I offer to let him sleep here?

* * *

The next day, we stand on opposite sides of the kitchen, a counter between us. It doesn’t stop his gaze from scorching a hole through my soul, though. The way he’s looking at me is nothing but trouble.

“Alrighty, the second favor is helping me collect the ingredients for the antidote that would cancel out the purple poison,” I say, swiping on my phone, glad to be given an excuse to look away from his distracting face.

“Here it is. Carrots, three seeds from a Futsu pumpkin, and holly berries from a raven’s nest, mixed with a spoon of yarn on a starry night. ”

The traditional witch practices are also an option for Nergs.

It’s looked down upon culturally for a Fuzer to dabble in witchcraft since Nergs believe it’s unfair if we have access to both.

But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Plus, it’s not like witchcraft has been proven to be authentic, so there’s no chance of knowing if an antidote will work.

He leans back against my kitchen counter. “So, from my expert spy skills, I gather you curse items with revenge paint? Am I on the right track?”

I bite my lip, hating how relieving it is that someone finally knows this secret side of me.

“You’re like a Fuzer Batman. You give us the power of revenge but refuse to let us curse our fellow kind and you’ve made sure the curses are mild and only last temporarily. It’s genius how you’ve protected yourself by using such specific wording in your spell.”

It never occurred to me that I’d enjoy his approval, someone who doesn’t have anything to gain or lose from my scheme. Not moving from his spot, Elias’s gaze trails after me as I prepare my coffee machine and search for my favorite mug.

“I admire how you shot down Alexandra’s request for a more powerful curse. That’s gotta be hard to deny a client.”

I avoid his eyes, so he doesn’t have the chance to see what I’ve buried deep for years. I didn’t only set up this business to save extra money, but to help Fuzers like me who have been bullied or used. I’m glad if my service strengthens our kind even a little bit.

“I have one lead.” I show my phone screen to him. “This is Alexandra’s ex. She works at Raven Slam coffee shop. I reached out to her last night when you were sleeping and she’s willing to chat.”

He mumbles something I can’t understand, then snags his car keys from the counter. “Let’s go.”

Except for the cemetery of empty water bottles, Elias’s car is surprisingly clean. As I settle into my seat, I breathe in the aromas wafting from the air freshener scent blowing through the vent. It’s a scent I can’t identify. Strawberry, maybe?

In the driver’s seat, Elias glances at my seatbelt, then gives me a thumbs up.

“Really?” I roll my eyes. “We’re not seventeen anymore.”

“Speaking of, we have some catching up to do.” His elbow bumps against mine.

Neither of us move, and I wonder if his skin is also on fire at the spot of contact.

“I propose a game! Ten speedball questions. No one leaves the car until we answer them all.” Before I even have a chance to refuse, he starts, “I noticed you sniffing my car. What’s a scent that reminds you of childhood? ”

“That’s what you want to know most?”

“Answer the question, Sunflower.”

I sigh. “Laundry detergent and soap.”

He nods. “Favorite day of the week?”

“Monday, obviously. It’s the only day our store is closed so I sleep in,” I reply so fast it knocks the wind out of me.

How is he doing this? It’s the second time he’s gotten me to open up. Against all odds, I had voluntarily told him about Aunt Felice teaching me to knit. Where on earth had that come from? I’m not sure even Tinsley knows that about me. I feel inexplicably safe when it comes to Elias.

“Best friend?” he asks.

“Tinsley.”

“How’d you afford to open your shop?”

“Loans.”

He makes a right turn on Wilminson Street. “When you’d open?”

“Almost nine years ago. Next month is our anniversary.”

He nods again and his expression remains pensive, serious, like he’s concentrating more than this conversation requires. “Ever go to college?”

“Nope.”

“Been in love?”

I pause and glance over. “Why does that matter?”

The corner of his lip twitches. “Is that one of your ten questions?”

“Yes,” I say. “Why does it matter if I’ve been in love?”

He sucks in a deep breath. “Because the girl I knew was closed off. People hurt you, Rynnlee. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how they used you and cast you aside.”

I twist the black skull ring on my finger. “It’s in the past. Whatever, Mister Whiplash, my turn.”

His fist playfully smacks the steering wheel. “Mister Whiplash? I couldn’t hurt a leaf!”

“Just let me ask a stupid question. Tell me your favorite smells.”

“Cookies, pumpkins, bread baking, and you.” His voice goes soft. I side-eye him, unsure how to respond to that. “Okay, give me another one,” he says, bringing me back to the game.

Should I ask if he’s a night owl? Or why he was living in his store’s closet?

Or how long he’s been in town? Has he ever experienced an autumn like ours, where these crisp gold and crimson maples paint the sky?

Ahead, I watch another yellow leaf flutter atop his windshield and think of the best question.

“What’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen?”

He pauses, works his jaw. “When Mom and Kurt renewed their vows. They flew us down to Cancun and the four of us stayed on the beach in a resort.”

“I don’t remember Zanther when we were in school.”

“He’s eight years younger. When we met, junior year, he was in third grade.”

A car passes us illegally with a blasting stereo that vibrates down to my bones. I give him the finger while Elias laughs and simply slows down.

“You’ve always been a whirlwind of fire and storm, Rynnlee,” he remarks, still chuckling. “Even when you tried to keep your heat to a simmer. You don’t have to do that around me, you know. Go ahead and burn down my world.”

“Have you been practicing that pickup line?”

“Yeah, in front of the mirror. Naked.” He holds out an open tin. “Mint?”

“Sure,” I say, taking a piece and letting the minty flavor cascade over my tongue.

I clear my throat and stare at the bug guts on the passenger window. “If you won the lottery, what would you do first?”

The turn signal clicks, clicks, clicks . “Well, I’d pay off Zee’s student loans, buy a new house for Mom and Kurt, and take all three of them on vacation to Venezuela.”

I’m drawn back in time, to when a younger Elias told me his biggest secret, in a car like this one. He confessed to wanting to make his father proud; his willingness to do anything to bring Noah back into his life. It had been clear that Elias was haunted by his dad’s abandonment.

Tucked into our parking spot, he shuts off the engine.

“Does this count as our first date?” I ask.

“No way. I’ve got to plan that. How do you feel about bungee jumping?”

I point my finger in his face like a dagger tip. “Don’t even think about it. I will not leap off any buildings.”

Laughing, he shoves his door open and exits, waiting for me to join him on the sidewalk.

When I do, he gestures for me to lead the way on the pavement of doom.

I breathe in deeply, cherishing that sharp scent that is a mixture of leaves and trees, of plants dying and rotting.

How romantic I am. At a perfectly sunny, sixty-five degrees, I don’t need a sweater and could stay outside all day.

I close my eyes and let the warmth soak into my cheeks.

Inspiration hits. Maybe we should move a few shelves outside on the shop’s front stoop for the season.

It may even bring more customers inside.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. After a quick check to see Orion’s name on the screen, I silence the call and let it drop back into the depths.

“Is this it?” Elias asks, standing in front of the red door that makes a bold statement against all the browns on the street.

“Yeah, they might be busy since it’s lunch hour,” I say, motioning to the influx of people going through all the nearby doors. “Hungry?”

“Starved.”

The door groans and gets stuck against something, only opening halfway.

Having been here before, and knowing this is normal, I slip in sideways, hoping Elias’s shoulders will fit.

Like a puzzle piece rammed into the wrong spot, he barely makes it inside.

In the foyer, walls covered in black curtains, a hostess greets us.

Knowing how this place functions, I whisper, “ Nothing sticky,” in the hostess’s ear, and she nods.

“Interesting,” Elias says; the three of us crammed into the small space.

I can’t wait for him to experience this place. “I may have left out a few minor details.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a sex dungeon.”

“No, it’s in the middle of downtown.” Softly, I smack his shoulder. “By the way, my ex also works here.”

A flurry of emotions crosses his features faster than a whip until he properly disguises them all behind that mask. Maybe one day he’ll take it off for me. Thinking back, he did once, and I hadn’t responded positively. What eighteen-year-old knows how to deal with someone’s heaviest truths?

“Welcome to Raven Slam,” the hostess says in a high-pitched, spunky voice. She’s smiling as she offers us both a blindfold. “Put these on, drop your phones in this basket, and then I’ll tie your wrists together for the performance.”

Elias’s reaction shocks me to my core. His gaze lands on the padded handcuffs the hostess pulls out. His eyes darken with pure lust. That look sends a shiver up my spine and my body turns on high alert.

“How did you know?” Elias practically growls, a thrilling excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Did Zanther spill my secret?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, but this is a sensory café. It’ll be in the dark and we’re cuffed.” I pause, worried he’ll retreat. “So, are you okay with this?”

“Squawking ducks, yes!”

“It’s a poetry slam that’s all about experiencing tastes and scents paired with the poems.”

“I’m definitely very much into this,” he says enthusiastically. “Cuff me.”