Page 34 of Witch You Would

Gil put his drink down and wheeled his chair closer to me. “ Mage You Look was part of it. You know from our emails that I’ve been teaching as an adjunct—until this semester, anyway. I quit to do

this show, which...” He huffed out a breath. “I hope that wasn’t a huge mistake.”

“Mood,” I said.

“Yeah, when you told me you got fired the first night, I was like, ‘Cool, being unemployed is one more thing we have in common.’”

“Not for long, hopefully.”

“Fingers crossed. So yeah, I could talk about teaching, but I’d have to lie about being Leandro. I’d be randomly unavailable

because of filming, and I’d have to hide stuff at my apartment if you ever came over. All kinds of shit.”

Leading a double life like that would be exhausting. Probably was exhausting. “You said that was part of it. What’s the rest?”

Gil gripped the arms of his chair. “I told you about my hands-off-the-fans rule? A thing happened that made me go hardcore

secret identity about Leandro.”

I wanted to know, but I wasn’t going to ask.

“I never flirted with anyone online, and that didn’t change when we started filming stuff live.

” He hunched over like he was trying to hide inside his own body.

“This one woman started showing up whenever we announced a taping on our Jive server. She just lurked at first, then she would talk to me, and I was nice, you know? Rule number six: everyone is important.”

Oh, Gil. You and your rules.

“She private messaged me on Jive, asking me personal questions that got more and more uncomfortable. She started bringing

me presents. Little things, then more expensive ones. Sam and Ed agreed she was crossing lines, so I asked her to stop.”

“She didn’t,” I said.

“No. It got worse. We banned her from the server, then banned her alts. Somehow she kept finding out when we were filming

and showing up, but she stayed far enough away that I didn’t want to make a scene by saying anything.” He rubbed his face

with both hands. “A few weeks before Christmas, she followed me home.”

“No!”

“Yeah. She tried to trick the maintenance guy into letting her in our building, but she didn’t know our apartment number,

or my real name. He told her to leave, she kept lurking, he chased her away with a giant plastic candy cane—”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed, then covered my mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, it was funny. We saw it from Sam’s bedroom window. He was swinging it around over his head like a sword, and

she screamed and ran to her car. I don’t know why that finally did it, but we never saw her again.” He chugged more beer and

smoothed his nonexistent mustache. “The thing is, I kept thinking, it could have been so much worse. You hear horror stories—almost

always about women—and I mean, I’m not saying what happened to me was nothing, but it wasn’t that . I got lucky. No one was hurt, she went away, and nothing like that has happened again.”

And he’d gone overboard with being careful. I could relate.

“So you were worried I might be another stalker?” I asked.

“A little, at first. And it wasn’t just you. I stopped dating anyone, period. I was too paranoid. The more I got to know you,

and like you, the more my fear... changed. What if you were just being friendly? What if I was the stalker this time? You

seemed cool, and nice, and I figured if I tried anything, I could screw up what we had.” His eyes met mine and my heart sped

up. “Plus, if we did start going out, I’d have to lie to you until I was sure I could trust you. That seemed bad, you know?”

“You did lie to me, though,” I said quietly.

“I did,” he agreed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know all of this would happen. With us, here. I should have kept my hands off you,

too, even if you weren’t a fan. It wasn’t fair to you. Leandro isn’t real, and you deserve to... to be with a real person,

not a character.”

My heart already felt like it was trying to thump its way out of my body, but what he said, and the way he said it... He’d

known who I was this whole time, and he’d kissed me, more than once... I wouldn’t know unless I asked, but making myself

say the words was so hard.

“What do you want?” I asked. “For... us?”

“I like you,” he said. “A lot. I already liked you when we were just emailing, but now...” He half smiled. “I’ve got felines

for you.”

I groaned. “A cat pun? Seriously?”

“Leandro isn’t all fake. Only mostly.”

And I’d fallen for him. Except... I’d crushed on Gil first. And they were the same person. So where did that leave me?

What did it mean for my feelings?

What did I want?

I stood up. “I think I need a minute. Alone. To think. This is a lot to process.”

Gil got up, too, putting his beer on the desk. “Right. Yeah. Totally. Take as much time as you need. I’ll be here whenever

you’re ready to talk. I mean, I’m literally not going anywhere, since we’re sort of stuck in here, but—”

“I know,” I said. “Are you going to karaoke later?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too, then.”

“Okay. I’ll see you there.”

The door clicked shut behind me. The hallway was empty, quiet except for the hiss of the air conditioner. Everything seemed

weird and out of focus, like when I finished reading a great book and suddenly found myself back in the real world, except

my insides were rearranged and nothing was the same.

What did I want?

The ice machine whirred and thunked; I nearly dropped the soda I’d forgotten I was holding. I was just standing there like

a zombie. Normally I’d be overthinking, catastrophizing, coming up with bizarre worst-case scenarios that led to me jumping

out a window and bleeding out in a parking lot. Instead, my head was empty.

I pushed the elevator button. It didn’t open right away, so I wandered over to the vending machines to wait. Why even have

a drink machine if there were minibars? Variety, I guess. The snack machine had so much weird stuff, too: fancy protein bars

and artisanal chips, but also toothbrush kits and earbuds and quick-cast facial illusions and... condoms?

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. I walked over and put one foot inside, then stopped.

What did I want?

Gil had lied to me, if only by not telling me the whole truth. He had his reasons, though. Was that enough to justify it?

Could I trust him not to lie to me again?

Did I want him, all of him, enough to take the chance either way?

The elevator chimed at me for standing there too long. I took a step, then another. The doors closed. I stared at my reflection

in the metal for several breaths.

Then I threw my soda away and went back to the vending machine.

Gil opened his door on the third knock and stared at me with his mouth half-open, like he thought I was a hallucination.

“So I thought about it,” I said.

“Oh,” he said. “Okay.”

“I like you, too. A lot.”

Gil smiled. The butterflies in my stomach took off.

“We could talk more, or we could, um . . .”

“Um?”

“I bought this vending machine condom for you.”

“Oh,” he said, then, “Ohh,” his voice suddenly twice as deep.

I threw myself at him and he caught me with both hands, stumbling backward.

We went totally feral.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to kiss his cheeks, his chin, his mouth.

No stubble, no fake mustache, only smooth skin and beer-tinged lips.

Our tongues tangoed as he gripped my ass, pulling me up against him until there was no space between us.

It wasn’t enough. I climbed him, trying not to think about bananas as I ground myself against the growing bulge in his jeans.

It wasn’t great, honestly; the fabric was too thick and the zipper was uncomfortable. Not a fun pants party.

A giggle fell out of me, and Gil stopped to look at my face.

“What?” he asked.

“We’re having a pants party,” I said.

His grin turned wicked. “I’ll give you a pants party.”

I squealed as he spun me around, tossing me onto the bed. He pulled his T-shirt off and threw it on top of the dresser, giving

me my first look at the greatest chest I’d ever seen in person. He definitely worked out, though he was more toned than bulky,

and he either shaved or was naturally hair-free in most places. I scrambled to get my shirt off, too, but he beat me to it,

peeling it over my head and tossing it in the same direction as his. My bra followed a few fumbling seconds later, leaving

me bare from the waist up.

He stared at my chest like he’d never seen boobs before. It was kind of sweet, until he licked in between them all the way

up to my neck. My eyes closed as one of my hands gripped the back of his head, fingers twining in his dark curls. The other

stroked up and down his back, tracing the valley of his spine. He laid a kiss on a spot behind my ear and I shivered. His

apple-and-lavender smell was so strong, I wondered if I was hallucinating it.

Settling between my thighs, he cupped my breast, thumb rubbing a slow circle around and across my nipple that sent sparks

of pleasure down to my happy place. I tried to wrap my legs around his hips, but my jeans were annoyingly tight. Letting go

of him, I unzipped and wiggled, finally getting the damn things low enough to push them off the rest of the way. They almost

took my underwear with them, but instead the deeply unsexy beige cotton rolled down awkwardly and stayed halfway down my butt.

Gil apparently didn’t notice. He definitely noticed my pants were gone, though, because he followed the leader and lost his,

too. The outline of his cock pushing against the fabric of his boxer briefs was... wow. I gave it a friendly stroke, which

made him groan and start kissing me again.

I lay down on the bed and he climbed on top of me. He alternated teasing one nipple, then the other, with his lips and tongue,

while I rubbed my clit as best I could against his shaft. He took over the rubbing with his hand, my body tightening and tingling

and rushing toward the orgasm tide that was about to come in. One finger slipped inside me, then another. I rode his palm

as he fingered me, until he moved so his thumb was circling my clit and pressing just right and... that did it.

I moaned and came hard and fast, shuddering as I dug my nails into his back. Gil kept going through the aftershocks, then

kissed me and stood up. I must have made some kind of puppy whine, because he grinned at me.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done,” he said. “Pants party, phase two.”

His boxer briefs came off. Was I drooling? Maybe I was drooling. He was incredibly yummy.

He leaned over me, smirking. “There’s something in your ear.”

“What?”

With a quick hand motion, he made the condom appear as if by magic.

“Bro.” I tweaked his nipple, and he yelped, then laughed.

All the card tricks had clearly given him some serious manual dexterity, because he had the condom on while I was still catching

my breath. His dark eyes met mine as he nudged the head of his cock near where I wanted him.

“You still want to...?” Gil asked.

“If you do not fuck me right now, I might curse you. And don’t you dare make a cat pun.”

He kissed me instead and slid inside me. Thank goodness I was so wet, because he filled me right up.

Things got a little blurry after that. His weight pressed me down onto the mattress as he thrust into me, slowly at first,

then harder and faster. My ankles twined around his thighs; my hands moved down his back, to the tight muscles of his ass.

I think I might have bitten his shoulder? He tasted like sweat and soap and skin, better than every fantasy I’d indulged in

for the past few months.

My legs moved higher as I rolled my hips to match his pace. He shifted positions, somehow going even deeper. Between a handful

of breaths I was coming again, shuddering, shaking, fireworks exploding behind my closed eyelids along with the pleasure between

my legs. Gil went over the edge a few seconds later, stiffening and gripping my thighs and groaning my name as he pumped into

me a few final times.

We stayed where we were for a little longer, caught up in the moment. My whole body felt warm and loose and tingly. I smiled

up at Gil, and he smiled down at me, and we kissed again, slow and sweet.

“I guess that was worth waiting for,” I said finally.

“Yeah,” Gil said. “It was.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t wait so long for the next time, though.”

He laughed and slipped out of me, stumbling to the bathroom to take care of the condom. When he got back, he climbed into

bed, pulled me into his arms, and kissed the top of my head.

“So you’re thinking, what, fifteen minutes?” he asked innocently.

I smacked his arm. “Malo. I only bought one condom.”

“Okay, but how many were there in the machine?”

“I didn’t count. Just that one cost me five bucks, though. And I had to charge it to my room, so Alina will know what we did.”

Gil gave a low whistle. “Maybe I can sneak off to a store...”

My turn to laugh. Then we both got quiet.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m happy,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

Gil gripped me tighter, like he was worried about me slipping away. Whatever was happening with us, I had a feeling it hadn’t

magically gotten less complicated. For the moment, though, I nuzzled his chest with my cheek and enjoyed just being there.

With Gil, who was also Leandro. Life was so weird sometimes.

Cool weird. Good weird.