Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(108)
Jealousy flared in Rose’s stomach like a raging ulcer.
“It wasn’t,” Callie added quickly, as if sensing her turmoil. “Not long after meeting Damian, I Saw, for the first time, two possible roads for Damian: one extremely dark, filled with pain and strife, and the other filled with hope and possibility. I’ll give you one guess which path he was on when we met.”
Rose crossed her arms over her chest as if she could hug away the ache in her chest. Damian had already told her he’d once been in a dark place. “And?”
“And my Sight showed me what needed to happen to divert him away from that self-destructive path and lead him to a life of hope, possibilities, and indestructible love.”
“A hex?”
“A hex. If it didn’t happen, if I didn’t conjure it before he reached the point of no return, then that love-filled future would’ve never had a chance in hell. Your future together would’ve been in jeopardy. I mean, you’re in love with him, right?”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m in love with Damian. Because of the hex, he’ll never be able to return it. So that happy love-filled future you Saw can’t happen anyway.”
“Eh.” Callie wrinkled her nose, her lips twitching with a knowing smile.
“Eh? What does eh mean?”
“It means I needed to give him a little time to set up and now that I have,” Callie leaned closer and whispered, “you should go outside.”
Olive walked to the window and peeked through the blinds, Vi and Harper right behind her. The trio practically yanked the blinds down to get a good look.
Vi chuckled. “You really should go outside, Ro.”
“Like, immediately.” Harper nodded with a giggle.
Rose glanced to Callie, who wore a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on her face. “What’s going on?”
“Trying to help a guy break a curse,” Callie answered cryptically. “And if you’re interested in doing the same, you really should get out there before he gets arrested for indecent exposure … or gets exposure.”
Since she obviously wasn’t getting any answers from anyone anytime soon, Rose pushed her way out Potion’s front door and came to a dead stop.
Standing in the middle of the street, John Cusack style, Damian held an ancient boom box over his head while Sara Bareilles’ version of “In Your Eyes” blared from the speakers. But instead of sporting a long trench coat, Damian wore boxers.
Only boxers. Red ones decorated with little cartoon witches and swirls of Magic that said MAGIC MAKES THE WORLD GO ’ROUND.
Horns honked as he blocked traffic, but a few nearby drivers watched with rapt amusement. From the open door of Potion’s Up, her own friends cackled and Olive, always the historian, held her phone up to record the show.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rose stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Damian, seriously … what is happening here?”
“I’m making a grand gesture … one endearing enough for you to hear me out.” He smiled, lips twitching nervously. “Please tell me it’s working.”
“This is New York. Doing things like this will get you run over.”
As if in agreement, a chorus of honking horns went off. Damian didn’t budge. He didn’t look around him. He didn’t take his eyes off her.
With a sigh, she dragged him onto the sidewalk. “I can’t hear you out if you’ve been flattened into a pancake.”
“So you’ll listen to me?”
She chuckled, exasperated. “Do I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice with me, little witch.”
When she heard the endearment she’d grown to love, her throat closed.
He set the still-playing boom box at their feet, his hands shaking slightly. “Damn, that thing gets heavy after a while. I thought you’d never come outside.”
“Where did you find it? A Smithsonian museum?”
“Julius.”
His answer surprised her. “So you’ve—”
“Been an idiot,” Damian interjected. “A raging pile of asshole.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I was about to say you’ve been getting along better, but if you expect me to disagree with your Mad Libs, you’ll be waiting a long time, doc.”
He flashed his sexy grin. “You called me doc.”
“I’ll be calling you an ambulance because hypothermia is minutes away from setting in if you don’t get to the point of all this.”
“I was wrong to send you away,” Damian admitted, his voice husky with emotion, and yeah, his hands shook again. “So, so fucking wrong.”
She really looked at him, noticing the slightly green, dewy hue to his skin. “Are you okay?”
“I will be once you hear me out.” Damian’s smile trembled, and for the first time since she’d known him, the man looked unsure. He also looked about to yak. “I was wrong to pretend what we had was nothing more than a convenient arrangement when it was so much more. Falling in love with you has been everything I’d ever hoped for and then some.”
“Everything, huh? Then why did you…” She forgot how to breathe. “What did you just say?”
Damian stepped closer, and as if he’d sucked down a healthy dose of fresh air, his coloring improved. He even stood a little straighter, a gorgeous, nervous smile tilting up the corners of his mouth.