Page 8 of Unhinged Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #2)

I smiled at his honesty but wondered if there was more to the statement than he let on.

His gaze swept over his shoulder to the dance floor, fixating on something, or someone , by the way his pupils blew wide.

He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never leaving whoever held his attention before snapping out of it and speaking to Tyler. Something about his grandad’s mustang.

I took a glass from the middle of the table, taking a long drink from it, wincing at the generous dash of alcohol that hit my tastebuds.

A knee nudged mine under the table. Wesley’s voice was low, as if keeping the conversation between us. “Someone’s thirsty.”

“ Someone would like to finish her dance,” I gritted out, just as low.

He subtly shifted in his seat so he could side-eye me. “You’re looking for trouble, dancing with a wolf,” he stated from behind his glass.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He had no right to tell me what to do.

The moods of this guy were unbelievable. He could go from downright rude, to a flirt, to overprotective in the space of five minutes.

“Jealous much?” I chimed, flashing him the brattiest look I could muster.

His attention didn’t waiver from mine, his stare heavy, bordering on a plea. It clawed at my every nerve, only serving me to piss him off further.

A bell rang from the bar, the call for everyone’s last round.

I turned my attention to the group, speaking to the table. “Who’s keen on a dance before last drinks?”

Morgan jumped at the chance to get back out there, and we scarpered back to the dancefloor like wild cats fleeing danger.

I spotted wolf guy as we made our way back through the mass of moving bodies. He caught my eye, a suggestive brow arching at my approach. I didn’t care for this stranger, but he was hot, and I knew it would piss Wesley off. A dance would do no harm.

Wolf guy lowered to my height, a hand on my shoulder as he spoke in my ear over the music. “And she returns…”

“Yeah, I never got that dance.”

He chuckled, his large chest heaving with the motion. He slid a hand through the cropped dark hair that matched his gaze. “You’re not with that guy?”

I shook my head. “Nope,” I said, popping the 'p’.

He took a long drink of his beer, and I took the moment to step closer. His hand landed on my hip, more cautiously this time, before pulling away again. Glancing over my shoulder, he gestured behind me. “You sure about that?”

Suddenly Wesley was at my side, his presence exuding pure dominance. “Leave,” he warned.

My fire element tore down my arms. I bundled my hands into fists.

The fucking nerve.

The two of them stood face-to-face, and I wondered if this would turn into flying fists. If I was honest, I didn’t like Wesley’s chances against this wolf, but, shit, he seemed to have no conception of the size difference between them.

The stranger whispered something in Wesley’s ear before stealing a glance in my direction and moving on.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded, staring daggers at him, my heart pounding in my chest. He was quickly becoming the single most infuriating person I had ever met.

Wesley’s glare flared dark again, his jaw grinding in some maddening ritual I could lose myself in. He drew closer; the intensity rolling off him combustible. “How long are you going to ignore this?”

“Ignore what?” I retorted sharply.

He scrubbed a hand over the side of his face, an exasperated look contorting his features into something desperate and animal like. “Us,” he ground out.

He reached out to touch me, retreating his hand only at the last second, an internal battle seemingly raging inside of him. We stood face-to-face, our bodies so close I swore I felt the vibration of his heart beneath his ribcage.

I dug my pointer finger into his chest. “Whatever you think this is, I don’t want it.”

Something inside Wesley shattered, his jaw releasing tension. His irises spiraled from feral to fractured in seconds. Suddenly, he seemed to change his mind, taking hold of my hand and pressing it flat against his chest. His heartbeat crashed into my palm.

“You think you can ignore this? Fine.” His thumb grazed the underside of my wrist, and a surge of warmth coiled deep inside me, low in my stomach. “But you can’t fight chemistry, Skip, it’s in our gods damned DNA.” A final squeeze of my hand and he let it fall free of his chest.

With that, he swerved away. “Let’s go. Nightcap at ours!” He nodded at the guys who had made their way to the dance floor, motioning toward the exit.

I stood deathly still.

He touched me. He touched me. He touched me. My heart.

Only, to do so seemed to cause him pain.

I didn’t understand him. This. Any of it. My heart slammed in my chest, my breath coming in short, hurried bursts. I hated that he could rupture whatever he just had. I didn’t know what it was, but it was something.

I had never met a man like him before. Able to wind me up to no end yet consume my every thought just the same.

Our group headed outside, the midnight chill nipping at my exposed skin as we made our way down the street to Tyler’s house. I caught up to Morgan, nudging her in the side.

Anything to distract me from him .

“On a scale of one to ten, how was your first night out in the elusive town of Cutters Cove?”

She side-eyed me, a smile beaming over her face and brightening her dark brown eyes. She tugged the side of her dress down as we continued walking. “Music?” She tipped her head to the side in thought. “I give a ten.”

“Agreed.” I had to say, it fit the vibe of the bar.

“And bar staff?” came Reid’s voice from right behind us.

We turned to find him walking beside Jade, who had arrived with Scar not long before we left.

He flashed us a cheeky grin, and I was certain he was one of the reasons the patrons in the bar were predominantly female. He was easy on the eye and easygoing.

“Ten,” I said, laughing as I heard Morgan speak the same word simultaneously.

Scar, who was walking on the other side of Morgan, sped up a few paces, turning to face her. She walked backwards as she spoke. “And company?” She wiggled her brows suggestively.

At that moment a commotion sounded from behind us, and I turned just as Wesley went hightailing it into a bush. Colton wrenched him out of it, much to Wesley’s disgruntlement. He mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and Colton gave him a subtle shove, a quiet word.

Holy. Shit.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, stifling a smile at the sensor mage.

Morgan let out a laugh. “A definite ten.”

The three of us shared a knowing look, the buzz of the alcohol sending us into another fit of laughter. This is what I needed. To focus on my time with the girls. Not him .

It felt good not giving Wesley the attention he was obviously used to getting from women. Served him right because, if he thought he could go around telling me who I could and couldn’t dance with, persisting on this mate bond thing, he could take a hike.

When we got back to Tyler’s house, we piled into his basement and a tequila shot came my way. “I hate these,” I said, grimacing as it burned my throat. I quickly sucked on a slice of lemon to rid the awful flavor in my mouth.

“Disgusting,” came Jade’s voice from beside me. She made a sour face, laughing.

It became clear this night was not over as I felt the tequila hit my bloodstream.

I tried to ignore Wesley the best I could, dancing with the girls on top of Tyler’s very sturdy coffee table. I wasn’t sure about it at first, but Scar dragged me up, saying it was like a ritual after every night out. A must do before we end the night.

Lost in the music coming from a nearby speaker, I closed my eyes, letting my hips sway to the beat.

The song’s lyrics sprang from my chest, and I threw my hands in the air, feeling the beat move through me.

When I suddenly lost my balance, I clung to Scar with a laugh, before righting myself once more.

Over her shoulder, I spotted Wesley leaning against the back of an armchair, his gaze drifting over me, catching my own.

He took a long drink from his beer, and I turned away, still feeling the pull of his gaze.

I kept dancing, my skin seeming to come alive under his quiet observation.

As much as I tried, I couldn’t ignore him.

I needed to have a serious pep talk with my girl bits, which had apparently awoken from a deep slumber, now threatening to burn a hole in my panties. It was infuriating.

I glanced at him again, immediately wishing I hadn’t.

A twitch in his jaw and he dragged his attention back to the room. “I call for truth or dare,” he said loudly.

“Please no,” I murmured.

I did not need this. Not here with him. Or my brother, for that matter.

Everyone in the room seemed to be keen, and my stomach bottomed out. I had to play it cool, act like I didn’t care. Then quietly remove myself from this situation when I could.

The game progressed quickly, and I dodged my turn before I found a chance to discretely leave the room. There was no way I would watch Morgan dirty dance on my brother’s lap. I had already caught sight of them dancing in the bar, and that alone had been cause enough to make me dry retch.

I snuck out of the basement as the music started, making my way back up the stairs to find the bathroom.

Gripping the washbasin, I looked up at my reflection.

Horrendous. Dark smudges lined my eyes, and my hair looked like I’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. My hazy gaze stared back at me, and I winced, rubbing a finger to my temple at the dull thump sounding in my skull.

Ugh.

I tried to wipe away the shadows from my smudged mascara, running the pads of my fingers underneath. I should have spent the extra money and brought the waterproof option.

Leaning over the basin, my elbows hit the porcelain as I held my head in my hands, the thudding in my ears growing louder with every passing second. I cursed out loud.

“You okay?”

I lifted my gaze to find Wesley leaning against the door frame, arms folded and thumb doing that stupid thing on his bottom lip again. If it wasn’t the thumb thing, it was the cracking knuckle thing. Why did those miniscule things seem to become suddenly noticeable?

I massaged a finger over my temple, rubbing it in small circles. “Yeah, just a headache.”

My attention dropped to his thumb, lingering close to his mouth before it formed a tight fist. I turned around, leaning against the washbasin.

“I could make you one of Scar’s chamomile teas?” he offered, his irises softening. “Her brews always help when I have a headache.”

His demeanor was cautious, his stare curious.

I knew he was right. Scar sold the best herbal tea at her apothecary, but I just didn’t feel like tea. I was tired.

“It’s ok. I just need to go to sleep.”

“You can stay here,” he offered, cracking his knuckles this time. “Take my bed. I’ll crash on the couch.”

There was no way in hell I would sleep in Wesley’s bed. Even without him.

“It’s fine, I’m okay on the couch.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then decided not to, and I became acutely aware of his body filling the space in the doorway, my exit. It must have registered on my face as he stepped to the side, letting me pass.

“I’ll get a spare blanket for you.” He headed to the closet down the hallway as I made my way into the living room. Returning, he handed me the bedding, motioning down the stairs. “They’ll be quiet soon. They usually crash down there.”

I bundled the blanket into my arms with a nod. “Thanks,” I mumbled, watching him disappear into the kitchen before returning moments later.

“Here.” He placed a glass of water on the coffee table. “I’ll grab you a pillow.”

My belly flipped over as I stared at the glass of water, like it held some foreign meaning to it. A storm of something I couldn’t place unfurled inside me.

He returned with a pillow, plopping it on the end of the couch.

Why was he being so nice ?

“Thanks,” I croaked, unable to form a sentence. I picked up the glass, bringing it to my lips. He followed the motion.

I needed him to leave. Now. Spreading the blanket over the couch, I started taking off my shoes.

Get. The. Hint.

As if finally realizing, he ran a hand through his hair.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Another long look, and I felt it.

Every sweep. “Night,” he murmured, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“Yell out if you need anything.” He left the room, and a door shut quietly down the hall.

I don’t know how long I stood there watching that door, listening to make sure it remained shut. Finally convinced he had no plan to resurface, I slid under the cover, pulling it tight under my chin.

I needed sleep.