Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(11)

Beck nodded slowly.

“It has nothing to do with this place,” she said, glancing around.

“So, you don’t hate it here?”

“No.”

“Do you want to stay?”

Morgan wasn’t certain how to answer. She wanted to escape. She was purposely not getting attached to anyone or anything, because she would be gone in two weeks, maybe to Hawaii or someplace warm.

“I’d like you to stay,” Beck added with a wink. “Not flirting. Just saying.”

Talking to him flustered her. Morgan wasn’t about to let herself fall for any guy, even the hottest one she ever saw, who was for some reason, interested in talking to her and trying to help her stay in this school.

Probably because he had to be, she reasoned. He was her appointed mentor.

“I’ll try harder this week,” she said. She didn’t want to, but she had to give them something, or they’d call her father.

There was no way she was ever going back to New York or her father’s house. She just had to make it two weeks here. Then, when she turned eighteen, she was gone. “Every time I meet a beautiful girl, she’s got a backpack full of secrets,” Beck said with a shake of his head.

It was hard to stay mad at him, like she could Connor. Beck’s disarming smile and gentle flirting – along with the unusually strong calming effect of his earth magick – made her want to relax and give this place an honest try. If for no other reason, then because she sorta almost liked him.

But there was no way he would like her. She’d heard people talk about the girls he dated, and she definitely wasn’t a model. Or a blonde. Or beautiful. She was … Morgan, and no guy yet had ever risked making her brother angry to try to ask her out. She couldn’t be pretty or worth knowing, if no one even tried! The fact that Connor wasn’t there now – standing between her and Beck calling her beautiful – was almost freaking her out. Now that no one stood in the way, she didn’t quite know how to act. Fortunately, it wasn’t possible that Beck was at all serious in flirting with her.

“You have secrets, too,” she pointed out.

“Mine won’t get me kicked out of school.”

“Omigod! I get the point. I’ll be a good student for a couple of weeks.”

“And then … everything will just magically be okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

It was his turn to cross his arms and study her pensively. Morgan refused to look away, not about to let him know there was more to her plan.

“Yeah, I don’t believe that at all,” he said at last. “Sorry.”

“Well, I do. Will you at least agree not to call my parents for two weeks, and I’ll agree to try harder?” she asked.

“Ultimately, it’s up to Amber, but I’ll let her know.”

Morgan didn’t like that answer. She frowned at him and planted her hands on her hips, ready to give him an earful, like she did Connor when he was being a jerk.

“Uh oh,” Beck said. “I can see it on your face. Let’s just chill, okay? It’s hard enough for me to keep so far away when your magick is pinging around.”

“It doesn’t ping around!”

“I’m not picking a fight. I promise.” Beck laughed. “Don’t set my shoes on fire or anything.”

His teal eyes were twinkling, his laugh warm. She wondered how bad of a secret he had, if he was able to be so genuinely happy. Confident. The opposite of how she felt most of the time.

“Okay. So you’ll talk to Amber?” she asked.

“I will.”

“To help me, not get me kicked out sooner?”

“Trust me, woman.” Beck grinned.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” She shook her head and turned away, retreating towards the steps. “I’ll see you later.” Was he going to help her out or not? She wasn’t certain. He seemed genuine, but people always disappointed her. If her own family treated her the way they did, why would a complete stranger act any differently?

Morgan was halfway up the stairs when Beck spoke to her again.

“I know you’re not a fan of Christmas, but the light display along the river is epic. I’ll probably head down that way this evening, if you want to come,” he offered.

Surprised, she paused and twisted to eye him. He flashed a wide smile, lingering at the bottom of the stairwell. She couldn’t figure him out: he wasn’t willing to move any closer than two meters from her and yet did he just ask her out?

“Don’t sic your brother on me,” he joked.

“No, I don’t want to go,” she snapped. “I don’t need him to defend me, and he definitely isn’t in charge of my life! If you’re afraid to talk to me without his permission, then I don’t want anything to do with you.” She left him and went to her room, hoping she was done with meddling brothers and strangers for the day.

She didn’t entirely know where the tirade came from, except that she was fed up with people controlling her life. Connor meant well, but he was always interfering. The idea that even Beck was afraid to defy her brother to talk to her made her angrier.

She threw herself down on her bed. Her anger settled in the quiet of her room, and she contemplated their exchange.

From everything she heard about him, she wasn’t his type. Which meant, he probably wanted them to go as friends. Then why tell her that she was beautiful?