The Secret Life of a Witch 2 (Mystic Willow Bay, Witches 2)

“Eva …” he starts, his tone laced with pity.

I point a finger at him. “Don’t do that.”

His brows dip. “Don’t do what?”

“Look at me with pity.” I face forward in the seat. “I hate it when you do that. And while we’re at it, you should stop looking at me altogether.”

“Okaaay,” he drags out the word as he shifts the truck into reverse. “I’m just going to keep my mouth shut until you’re ready to tell me what’s really bothering you.”

The fact that he knows my anger isn’t fully stemming from him stealing my old buddy and kissing some demon floors me even more.

Gah! Why does he seem to know me better than I know myself!

“No, you’re going to talk to me,” I declare, reaching over and shoving the shifter into park. Or, well, I try to. Instead, the gears grind.

Hunter spits out a sequence of colorful words as he slams on the brakes. Then he reels around in his seat. “All right, start talking, or I’m going to make you walk home.”

“Of course you will.” My tone oozes sarcasm as I roll my eyes. I know I’m being a brat, but I’m hurting inside. What if he did betray me? What if he was never my best friend? “Newsflash, Hunter, I learned a long time ago that all your threats are empty. At least the ones you make to me.”

He narrows his eyes at me, but his lips threaten to turn upward. “Oh, did you?”

I cross my arms and raise my brows defiantly. “I did.”

His brow curves upward. “So, what you’re saying is that I won’t make you walk home if you don’t start telling me why you suddenly have a stick up your butt?”

I raise my chin. “Yep, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

We stare at each other inside the cab, each stubbornly refusing to look away and lose the staring contest we have silently entered. The longer we stare at each other, the more I start to doubt that Hunter was the one who told the hybrids where my sister’s body was.

This is Hunter, my best friend, who cares about me.

The sun is starting to descend around the steep mountains that encompass the town, casting a pink-orange glow across the sky. Add that to the lingering rainbows still hanging around from the rainbow storm and the hundreds of various colors spilling into the cab, it makes us both appear like we’re in technicolor.

“You look like a disco ball pooping rainbows,” I say stoically, in an attempt to get him to crack.

“Well, you always look like a disco ball pooping rainbows,” he quips with a clever smirk.

I gasp, pressing my fingertips to my lips. “You so did not go there.”

“Yep, I sure did. Don’t worry, though; I think rainbow popping disco balls are pretty.” Before I can even react, he’s opening his door. “But they need to be taught a lesson.” With that, he climbs out of the truck and strides for the passenger side.

I hurry and flip the locks, then stick out my tongue at him. “Ha, ha, you left the keys in the ignition, so the joke’s on you.”

“You really think that can stop me?” His eyes glimmer in technicolor as he reaches into his back pocket and produces his wand.

“Nice try, but the demon’s curse hit, remember?” I remind him, yet still inch my fingers toward the lock, just in case.

He grins self-assuredly, lines the tip of the wand to the window, and begins to chant an unlocking spell.

Sparks shower from the wand and glitter across the glass like tiny flakes of diamonds. The lock unclicks, and I move to tap it back down, but he beats me to punch and flings the door open.

I scramble for the driver’s side, knowing I’m overreacting. There’s no way he’s going to throw me out of his truck and make me walk home.

No way in all the witches in the world—

He snags ahold of my ankle as I’m in the process of head-diving into the driver’s seat and drags me back.

I latch on to the steering wheel. “Seriously? You’re actually going to try to drag me out of your truck?”

“No.” He releases my ankle. “I’m not going to try. I’m going to.” His body is suddenly on top of mine so we’re chest to back to ass to … Well, you know.

My eyes widen in shock. The distraction is enough that he easily pries my fingers from the steering wheel.

“Hunter,” I grunt as he pushes back and flips me over onto my back so I’m sprawled across the bench seat. “This is getting out of hand.”

“I know.” He climbs back on top of me, straddling my hips and pinning my wrists down beside my head. His now chin-length blond hair hangs in his eyes as he stares down at me. “So, why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you so I can win this thing and it can be over?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You won’t win.” Then I writhe my body, trying to kick him off me. Instead, I end up grinding my hips against his in a very, very erotic way.

Great. Talk about embarrassing.

Hunter tenses like he’s in pain, and then he hurriedly shifts his hips away from mine.

“God, Eva, I …”

“I’m sorry,” I sputter, my face feeling fiery hot. “I didn’t mean to do that! I was just trying to get out from under you.”

He chuckles, his muscles remaining wound tight, yet his fingers loosen on my wrists. “Well, for future reference, if you’re ever pinned down beneath a guy, grinding your hips against his might not be the best way to get him off you.”

My face floods with even more heat, but I manage to dazzle him with a wicked grin. “Well, it got you off me, didn’t it?” Then I yank my wrists out from his hold and push against his chest.

Thrown off guard, he tumbles onto the floorboard.

Seizing the opportunity, I sit up and scramble out the door. But the second my feet plant down in the dirt, I realize that I technically let him win this fight by getting out of the truck after all. Now all he has to do is lock me out and drive off.

“Dammit.” I reel around, ready to dive back in, but

he hops out and blocks my path.

“Now what’re you going to do?” he teases with his hands spanned out to his sides.

I take off in a run to the back of the truck, preparing to climb in through the passenger side. However, he sideswipes me near the tailgate, looping his arms around my waist.

I spin around and flatten my palms on his sturdy chest to push him back, but his arms enclose around me as he yanks me against him. I struggle to get away, wiggling around and jumping up and down, when my legs somehow end up wrapped around his midsection.

I move to put my feet back down on the ground, but he backs us up and pins me between him and the side of the truck.

“You’re being super weird right now.” I pretend to be more annoyed than I am.

He leans his weight against me so our bodies are fused in every single way possible.

Seriously, is he trying to kill me?

“You’re the one who’s acting weird,” he retorts. “And I can tell it has something to do with me, so just spit it out, and I’ll fix it.”

“What if you can’t fix it?” I ask, my voice soft and weak. Whether from the worry of his betrayal or his body against mine, I’m not sure.

Holding me against the truck with his hips, he reaches up and sweeps my hair out of my rainbow-colored eyes that I’m sure look so much like the sky right now that it’s probably creepy. “I’ll fix it … No matter what it is. I promise.”

I sigh. “That’s a pretty big promise to make without having any idea what I’m going to say.”

His hand lingers on my cheek. “That’s because I’d do just about anything for you.”

I want to tease him about being a cheesy goof, but I’m too emotionally drained at the moment.

“Fine, you really want to know?” I ask, and he nods. “Okay, but you have to promise not to hate me. And I want a contract promise, not verbal.” Because if it wasn’t him who outed Ryleigh’s body’s location, he might hate me for even thinking it. And I can’t handle him hating me.

Then again, if we do a contract promise, and he does try to lie to me, I’ll probably end up hating him. Not just because he lied and betrayed me, but also because I’ll end up in so much tremendous pain when he breaks the contract promise.