The Secret Life of a Witch (Mystic Willow Bay, Witches 1)

Don’t blush or give away any sign of swooniness. Focus on the conversation, Evalee. Don’t be a spaz and lose your best friend.

I take the spoon away from him and toss it back into the bowl. “Well, it has been sitting in the bowl for, like, an hour.”

He spits the cereal out on the floor then wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “What the hell, Evalee? That’s disgusting. Why do you even have it down here?”

“What? You didn’t have to eat it.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve warned me not to when you saw me reaching for the spoon.”

I bite back a grin. “I didn’t really think about it. I mean, I took a bite, like, ten minutes ago, and it tasted okay. So maybe you’re just super soggy-cereal sensitive.”

“That’s not even a real thing.” He gives me a tolerant look. “And for future reference, if cereal has been sitting in a bowl for even half an hour, it’s probably soggy, and you should warn your most awesome friend in the world not to eat it, or he might just lose some of his awesomeness.”

“Why? Does soggy cereal have magical, awesome stealing powers?” I joke.

“Actually, smartass, it does.” He smirks as he lightly tugs on a strand of my hair. “But you really shouldn’t be ingesting milk that’s been out of the fridge for that long.”

My brows pull together. “I thought it took a lot longer for milk to spoil.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?”

My sister lets out an exhausted groan. “Oh, my God, I take it back. You are a little weirdo. And so is Hunter. Seriously, how can you two worry about the expiration of milk when you both just ate cereal that’s two inches away from my rotting corpse leg?”

I turn around to shoot her a warning look. “Don’t start on me about this again.”

Her eyes glimmer mischievously. “Start on what? I didn’t really say anything.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Yeah, but you were about to mention that thing you’re always bugging me about, which you’re completely wrong about.”

“I’m not completely wrong about it,” she insists. “Hunter’s in love with you, and you need to get your head out of Low Self-Esteem Land and realize this so you can make your move before someone else does.”

I sneak a casual glance in Hunter’s direction and cringe when I note him observing me intently. Yeah, I know he can’t hear my sister, but that doesn’t make me any less squirrely.

“Is Ryleigh talking to you?” he asks without removing his gaze from mine.

I nod, fidgeting with a leather band on my wrist. “Yeah, she’s been pretty chatty this morning.”

“I have, huh?” Ryleigh grumbles, going back into miserable mode again.

“That’s a good sign, right? That she isn’t going to fade anytime soon?” Hunter asks, moving up to the table to glance at the opened textbook.

I choke up at the reminder that, if I don’t save her, eventually Ryleigh will rot into bones that I’ll no longer be able to chat with.

Not wanting to worry either of them, I keep an upbeat tone as I lie, plastering a fake smile on my face. “Yeah, that’s definitely a good sign.”

Concern swirls in Hunter’s eyes as he looks at me. When his lips start to part, I aim a pleading look at him.

Please, please, please don’t talk about this in front of Ryleigh, I silently beg.

“So, what class is this for?” He breezily changes the subject, glancing down at the textbook again.

I could hug him right now for being able to understand what I need without me actually having to verbalize it. “It’s for Experimental Magic Insanity Therapy.”

“You’re taking that class? Since when?”

“Since I signed up for it at the beginning of fall semester.”

“You never mentioned taking it.”

“I didn’t really think it was important.” I reach for the book as he puts his hand down on mine.

“You told me every other class you were taking”—his intense gaze carries mine—“except this one. Why is that?”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” I reply with a shrug. Inside, my heart hammers deafeningly, though.

Please don’t figure out the real reason. That sometimes I secretly wonder if experimental treatment could cure me from being the town’s magic ditz.

“No, it didn’t. And it’s weird that you’re taking this class when you hate everything that experimental treatment represents.” Worry lines crease his forehead. “Eva, is this about—”

“It’s not about anything. I was bored when I signed up for the class; that’s all.” I wiggle my hand out from under his then shut the book. “I have to get to class. I’m running late already.” Swallowing the guilt crammed into my throat, I hug my books to my chest and hurry toward the crooked stairway that leads to the main floor of the house.

Truthfully, I know my fleeing escape won’t do any good. Even before we started college a month ago and decided to rent a house together, Hunter never let me off the hook from much of anything. And now I don’t even have the option of running away and hiding out at my own place.

He chases after me, his boots thudding against the floor. “Don’t run off. We need to talk.”

I quicken my pace, taking the stairs two by two. “There’s nothing to talk about. I swear.”

“Then why are you running away from me?”

“Because I don’t want to be late for class.”

“That’s not the reason.” He runs up the stairs behind me. “You’re avoiding telling me why you took that class.”

When I reach top of the stairs, I stumble over the threshold and into the messy laundry room. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about this. So I took a class about experimental magical treatments. It’s not some life changing decision.”

After tripping over three piles of dirty clothes, I make it to the hallway and scramble toward my bedroom. He jogs after me, and I take off into a run, swerving around the boxes littering the hallway.

“This isn’t just some class you took because you were bored,” he says from right behind me. “I know you, and well enough that I can figure out the real reason.”

“There isn’t a real reason. I’m not that mysterious. And you should know this by now—” I trip over a box and lose my balance. My wand and book fly from my arms. Sparks shoot from the end of my wand and blast the light green walls with spots of the most awful shade of brown.

Crap. My roommates are going to be so pissed.

But I have bigger problems to deal with right now. Like not falling flat on my face and escaping.

I move to regain my balance, but Hunter trips into me from behind. We lose our footing and both go down hard. I land flat on my back, my head knocking against the hardwood floor.

Cursing, Hunter tumbles on top of me, managing to put his hands out and stopping himself from completely crushing me. Although, I must say, if I had to die, getting crushed by him would be a pretty decent way to go; with his hair tickling my forehead, buried in his scent, squashed beneath his solid chest.

Mmmm … He smells so nice …

With a hand positioned on each side of my head, he holds his weight up and stares down at me. “Are you okay?”

Those damn butterflies I just told to shut the hell up are no longer listening to me. Thankfully, I’ve spent many years learning how to sound cool as a freaking freeze spell during hot, fiery, skin damping, breath catching Hunter moments such as these.

“Am I okay?” I playfully pat him on his scruffy cheek. “Hunter, Hunter, Hunter, my dear sweet friend, with how many times you’ve seen me bust my ass, you should know better than to even ask that question.”

He bites back his amusement. “And you should know better than to think I’ll stop asking you if you’re okay. Besides, this fall was kind of my fault.”

I nod, secretly hoping he’s forgotten about why he was chasing me. “Man, you’re such a meanie, pushing down a girl like that.”

His brow quirks. “Push?”

I nod, fighting back a grin. “And I always thought you were a gentleman, but I guess I was wrong. Makes me wonder what else I don’t know about you.”

An undecipherable look flashes across his expression. “Actually, there’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about me.”

I can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but the idea doesn’t sit well with me. I mean, we’ve been friends for almost eight years. That has to mean we know each other inside and out, right? Then again, he doesn’t know I’m in love with him. That’s one tiny, little thing, though.

No, he has to be teasing me.

“You’re such a liar,” I say with a grin. “I know everything about you.”

“Everything, huh?” A challenge dances in his eyes. “You really think so?”