Magical Midlife Madness (Leveling Up 1)

“Hello?” I asked, slowly peering around Austin’s big back.

The three guys stood there, their lips and eyes tight and their expressions suddenly unsure.

“What’s the status on this?” I asked, and swayed into Austin’s back. “Hah!” I reached around him and slashed with my knife, just in case they got the idea that my drunkenness meant I wasn’t primed and ready.

“Dude, what… No.” Flat-top shook his head and put up his hands, not unlike Austin. “Screw this, bro. That chick is…weird.”

“You all are insane, brother,” tall guy said, giving Austin a look that said he was crazy. It was a cover for insecurity, but I’d take it.

I felt Austin’s body shake a little under my lean, like he was laughing. I could probably straighten up, but worried I’d stagger back in the other direction. The lean would have to do for now.

Mean Guy stared at Austin, his face flat, a sparkle of unhinged in his eyes. He wanted to try his hand at a bigger dude.

“Neck to navel,” I murmured, my fingers tight on the knife. “A quick slice, neck to navel. Or maybe navel to neck. I’m not sure what would be best. It’s fine, though. I’ll aim for the soft bits and just rip to the side. That oughta do the trick.”

“Bro, come on,” Flat-top said, walking backward toward the hotel. “That bitch is crazy. Let’s go!”

“I’m crazy?” I asked. “You started it! You started it, and I plan on finishing it. That’s just responsible fighting. That’s what a mother does, finishes things. Then tidies up. Trash can, unmarked grave, whatever. Garbage goes where I put it, and that’s that.”

Mean guy squinted at Austin, glanced at me peeking out from behind him, then blew out his breath and backed up slowly. “Until next time,” he said with a smirk.

“If only I had a throwing knife, I would stick it right in your smug little back, you…” I gritted my teeth. “Screw him, let’s go.”

I pushed off Austin, and just as I expected, I staggered backward and almost fell. A strong arm wrapped around my back, keeping me upright.

“I’d be home right now if you’d just listened to me,” I said, my eyes drooping. I leaned against his side. “A little nap would be nice.”

“Where, in a bush?”

“Sure. A bush, a gutter—I’m in no position to judge.”

Another arm, this one down low. The world spun, and then he was cradling me in his arms, my head on his shoulder. So close, so hard, and not nearly as comfortable as a pillow.

“I’m either going to pass out or throw up,” I said, my head lolling into his hot neck.

“Thanks for saving me back there,” he said, his deep timber rumbling through his chest.

I was too tired to huff out a laugh. Or maybe too drunk. “Oh.” I pulled my head up and held up the knife. “I need to put this away before I forget I’m holding it and drop it.”

Stopping, he adjusted his hold so I was balanced in just one of his massive arms, proving that he was much stronger than he looked, and he looked super strong. Moving slowly, methodically, as if he weren’t balancing my weight in one arm, he tucked the knife into my purse and looped the strap over his arm before resuming the two-arm hold.

“Are you magic?” I asked, surprised and very close to passing out. “Because what?”

“What?” he asked, no strain evident in his voice.

“I feel light.”

“You are light.”

“Lies.” I rested my head back on the worst pillow in the history of pillows. It could’ve been a rock for all the give it had. “I didn’t save you, those guys scampered off. Wait—is this you looking for gratitude or an apology or something? Because as I said, those guys scampered off.”

“They scampered off because you are as fierce as you are crazy.”

“Hey, I’m drunk and I have the laws of defense on my side. Screw them.”

His chuckle took nothing away from his sleek, graceful movements as he carried me to Ivy House. “Exactly. You made that easy and—”

“Madam.”

“Hah!” I kicked the air and swung my fist around. Mr. Tom leaned back and my hand sailed through nothingness, right by his head. “Damn it, Mr. Tom. Like…why? Why do you always sneak up on me?” I clutched my chest, then my stomach. It flipped menacingly. “Down.”

“What?” Austin asked.

“Down!” I struggled out of his arms, pushed Mr. Tom out of the way, stopped, turned, kicked him, and then staggered toward the bushes. “Go away. Everyone go away. Things might escalate from here.”

“Who did this?” Mr. Tom asked Austin.

“I did this,” I said, taking deep breaths. Holding my unsettled stomach. “But why didn’t you warn me about the alcohol? Don’t eat the sandwiches, but what about the alcohol?”

“She’s fine. I’ve got her,” Austin said.

“No.” I looked around, seeing Ivy House just down the road. I was almost home. Tonight I would probably get intimate with the toilets. “Just go away. All of you. I’m fine. Honest. Super good. Definitely awesome.” I did not feel awesome.