Page 7 of Unhinged Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #2)

Skye

This bar was something else. A mixture of nostalgia and luxe all wrapped into one.

I ran my fingertips along the interior wallpaper; most people would miss the subtle swirl of pattern hidden behind its dark block of color, but not me. Its texture caressed my skin as if unspoken words passed from it to the pads of my fingers, screaming to be seen. Not just another fabric.

I see you. Perfect. Timeless.

Aged lounge chairs scattered the center of the bar.

Their faded floral patterns would normally express nothing but their many years of use, but in here they fit the vibe.

Outside of here, I imagined them in a new life fitted with a striking new pattern, but I doubted they would ever get that opportunity.

They would most likely be used until their springs failed.

Dumped on the street with a 'for free' sign planted on top.

I vowed right then that if I ever saw that, I would give them another life.

Tonight, I needed to dance. Like close my eyes, hands in the air, feel the beat vibrate throughout me dance.

I don’t know what made me invite Morgan to my house and then to Jinxed.

It was not one of my brightest ideas, but she was new and so was I, in a way.

Scar and Jade, my roommates, had other plans and would catch up with us later.

So there I was, dancing in a way too flashy dress, in heels that I would most definitely regret wearing tomorrow. I knew my feet would hurt to no end, and if my previous experience was anything to go by, they would be scratched up to shit as well. They say you live and learn. Not me.

A happy buzz ran through my veins thanks to the alcohol currently sloshing in the glass above my head.

Morgan and I circled each other, moving to the music.

She beamed at me like she needed this as much as I did, her long, dark hair swaying with every beat.

I needed to lose myself for just one night.

To not think about him .

As the thought of Wesley entered my mind, I pushed it away, taking another long drink. I had specified a double shot of vodka with good cause.

I stared at Morgan, where she danced with a noticeably good-looking male. Too good looking, in fact. Which meant he could be a…

Whoa.

Suddenly a very tight-fitting, black t-shirt blocked my vision of Morgan, large biceps plunging out of each sleeve. Dark brown eyes travelled the length of me, and a flicker of something in them made me think he was on a mission to forget his troubles tonight as well.

The stranger extended his hand between us. “Wanna dance?”

Light stubble framed his thickly set jaw, a cautious gleam in his distant gaze.

Yeah, I do.

I took his hand, letting him twirl me in a circle, eyeing him cautiously as he did so. “You’re built like a wolf,” I stated as we moved to the music.

A laugh plunged from his chest, deep and throaty, as he pulled me closer. “That’s because I am a wolf.”

The hairs on my arms extended to their full height as I warily studied him closer.

Even though I wore my heels, he was still much taller than me, and wider by at least twice.

My encounters with werewolves had been few and far between, so I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into.

All I knew was they were strong, fast, and usually lived in packs.

“Are you going to eat me?” I asked, half-joking.

A comical look twisted his head to the side. “That depends.”

I scoffed, my attempt at hiding my uncertainty terrible. “On?”

His eyes darkened even further, a hint of desire creeping into them. “What kind of eating are we talking here, gorgeous?”

Shit. I backed myself into that one. A wad of something uneasy lurked in the back of my throat.

He seemed to realize my momentary loss of words and continued. “Look. I’ve had a shit week. All I’m asking of you is a dance.”

Satisfied with his answer, I nodded, his hands immediately moving to my hips, pulling me against him. It had been a long while since I’d felt a male this close, but, annoyingly, my body didn’t react to his proximity.

What the actual shit?

I had a smoking hot wolf nuzzling my neck, and not a thing happening in my panties. Not even a twinge.

Seriously?

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on wolf guy’s shoulder from behind, causing him to jerk. Simultaneously, the stranger’s hands released from my hips, spreading in the air on either side of his head in surprise. He twisted, looking for whoever held his shoulder in a vise grip.

Behind him, Wesley’s glare was a shade of feral I hadn’t seen before. A callous shade of the darkest green I had ever seen, so dark it bordered black.

“We’re leaving,” he said, extending his arm, expecting me to follow.

I frowned. “No, we aren’t .” What did he think he was doing, ordering me around like this?

His feral glare flashed with both annoyance and alarm. “Yeah, we are. Morgan needs an out.”

Shit, I had forgotten about Morgan. What a crappy friend.

Wolf guy’s arm landed on Wesley’s shoulder this time. “Hey, she…” He stopped short when Wesley, albeit not as tall as him, moved himself between us, chest-to-chest, chin raised.

Wesley’s voice dipped low. “Leave.”

I couldn’t see Wesley’s face, but the stranger nodded once before promptly retreating into the crowd.

“What the hell was that?” I screeched over the music as a song with a hard baseline thumped against the walls, vibrating through the bar. I followed him as he moved across the dance floor, making his way toward Morgan.

Without warning, Wesley spun on his heel. “Morgan’s dancing with a vampire . Don’t you think that might be something you need to watch out for instead of rubbing up against some wolf?”

I hated that he was right.

His nostrils flared as he spoke, clearly pissed off. “You can’t bring a human in here and expect them to just be okay .”

“I was just… I just needed to…” I didn’t want to admit how much of an effect he had on me.

“Needed to what?” he pushed, glaring at me.

Suddenly a group of guys behind me pushed against my back, causing me to fall into the hard wall that was Wesley’s chest. My hands instinctively planted against his front.

Quick breaths came from me as goosebumps coated my skin, my insides doing a victory dance at his proximity that I instantly hated it for. There was no space between us.

I looked down to where every muscle, every ripple was pushed hard against me thanks to the guys still behind me.

Weirdly, Wesley’s hands were still at his sides.

Thanks for breaking my fall.

“Needed to what?” he repeated, inspecting me closely.

“Forget,” I sighed, the word suffocated by the music, I hoped.

I was wrong.

Wesley stared at me as if trying to figure out the meaning behind my words, before a spark twisted his gaze. His head turned, looking toward the far wall at the back of the bar before lowering to speak into my ear.

My entire body shuddered at the graveled voice against my earlobe. “Hate to break it to you, Skip, but there’s no way in hell I’ll ever let you forget me.”

A long look passed between us. A potent enigma I couldn’t decipher nor tear myself away from. It sent butterflies soaring within me as if being set free from captivity, and it made me want so many things on so many levels. To hate him, to touch him, to throw up, even.

I wanted to kick myself for letting my guard down for a fraction of a second, where I was sure he’d entertained the thought of something more happening between us.

But I would not bow to his advances. Because anyone that used the mate bond flippantly had serious problems.

A moment later, he turned, and I followed as he headed straight for Morgan. When we reached her, he spoke to her over the loud music. She nodded, pulling away from the vampire. Wesley stalked past me with a quick glance, followed by a nod toward the back of the bar.

Following his gesture, I spotted Tyler and Colton sitting in a booth. So much for keeping my distance from Wesley. I guess I should’ve expected that of a small town, though.

As we approached the booth, Morgan slid in beside Tyler, Wesley following. With Colton’s broad frame on the other side of Tyler, I had no choice but to sit beside Wesley.

The booth would usually fit four people comfortably, so everyone squeezed around to make room for me at the end. I slid into the booth right as the guy who I recognized as Reid from the night at Tyler’s house approached.

“Well, this is my bar, so I’ll take that compliment,” he said, replying to Morgan’s comment about how impressed she was with the place.

I had to agree with her. The name seemed fitting for the bar he had apparently ripped to pieces, reopening the old courthouse with a moody new fit-out.

Reid stood about the same height as Wesley, long black sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing an arm of tattoos underneath. The name of the bar sat over his left pec, embroidered into the fabric in spaced out letters.

J I N X E D.

He placed a handful of drinks in the middle of the table before pulling up a chair, perching beside me at the end of the booth.

He glanced my way. “It’s a welcome back for you, I hear?” He extended his hand to me. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Reid.”

I flashed him a smile, shaking his hand. “Skye. Sorry, my mind is coming up blank. You must have arrived just as I left for boarding school.”

“Sounds about right. What do you think?” He gestured around the room in question.

“Not that I remember this place much as a child, but you’ve done a nice job.”

His warm brown eyes gleamed at the compliment. Not in a flirty way, just pleased at the acknowledgement.

“Thanks. I knew I wanted to do something with it; it’s such a beautiful building. Also, got to keep the mind busy or I’ll go stir crazy.”