I frown. “Like what?”
“I wanted to take musical theater. She hated that. She didn’t like my premonitions and feelings about things. She thought it was strange that I was fascinated by the moon.”
“Is that why the tattoo?” I touch the small black crescent behind her ear.
“Yeah. It always felt comforting to me to look up at the sky and see the moon. I love the way it changes… a small sliver, then growing bigger and rounder… then waning again to nothing. Except it’s not nothing. It’s always there; we just can’t see it. I love the cycle of it, that it never ends. The renewal.”
“Mmm. Yes. That kind of timelessness is comforting, isn’t it?”
“Right? You get it. She didn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay! She was a good mom. She loved me and I loved her. I wanted to please her, so I did the things she wanted. I worked as hard as I could because I wanted to hear her say she was proud of me.”
I let this sink in. I see how frustrated Romy’s been with her training, how she wants so badly to excel. Maybe I haven’t been giving her enough praise. She’s been doing amazingly well, other than the times she’s tried to get ahead of herself. I feel a hard knot in my chest. I need to tell her that.
“You’ve accomplished a lot,” I say. “I think she was proud of you.”
“Aw. That’s nice of you to say.” She tips her head back to look into my eyes. “Thank you.”
I give her a smooch that isn’t enough. Our gazes hold, and her eyelids grow heavy and I kiss her again. And again, licking her bottom lip, slipping my tongue inside. She moans and squirms against me, trying to get closer. Not that she can. There’s nothing between our skin.
I’m instantly fully hard and ready for action, and I roll her to her back for the round two I promised her.
It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m still at Romy’s place. She made french toast for a late breakfast, along with some delicious dark coffee with real cream and the sugar I love, then we went back to bed.
Fucking her isn’t helping my obsession with her, I’m afraid. I can’t get enough of her, exploring every inch of her pretty body, finding out all the things she loves and then doing them to her until she comes apart. And she’s right there with me, eagerly participating and responding.
I notice new art on her walls. “Those are nice.”
“Thanks.” She beams. “I’m getting back into painting.”
“You did those?”
“Yes!”
“Shut up!” I move closer to study the two framed watercolor paintings. They’re feminine and pretty and seem really good to me, not that I know much about art.
She laughs. “No lie.”
“These are great.” I turn to her. “You should do more.”
“I am. I really enjoy it. I got inspired from that print that Felise and Magan gave me.” She points to another framed picture on the wall.
“Cute. You’re really talented.”
Her cheeks go pink. “You’re just saying that because you want to bone again.”
“Well, yeah.” I smirk. “But no. I mean it.”
“Thank you.” The pleased look on her face makes my chest warm.
“I like the other changes you’ve made too.” I wave at the living room. “The pillows and stuff.” Over the weeks, various things have appeared—cushions, candles, a new lamp—many in a soft pink color with some gold accents. It’s added personality to the room, with color and texture and the scents of the candles, the living energy of plants.
She smiles and runs a hand over a furry cushion. “Thanks. It’s been fun picking out some new things.”
Finally we’re dressed and sitting in her office.
“We need to prepare you for your interview,” I tell her.
“I’m terrified of this,” she says.
“Don’t be.” I study her face. “That doesn’t help, I know. You’re doing great, Romy. I probably don’t tell you that enough.”
She regards me with wide, searching eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” I hate it that she doubts herself and I haven’t encouraged her. “I had a bit of a, uh, chip on my shoulder about tutoring you, but it’s been… rewarding. You’ve picked up so much, so fast, and your power is going to be… formidable.”
It has been rewarding. Seeing her grow is satisfying. And all this has rekindled my interest in magic. I’m not about to jump back into the coven, but it’s reminded me of why I love the power, the creativity, the ability to do good. I’d given up on that.
Her eyes widen even more. “Oh. Wow. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t as supportive as I should have been. I’m an asshole.”
She bites her lip. “Sometimes, yes.” But her eyes are gleaming.
We review the things the Board of Elders will ask her, and I help her prepare her answers.
“It kind of is like a job interview,” I say. “The board is very traditional. So make sure you show up on time. It’ll be quite formal. The first thing you need to understand are the values of the coven.”
She nods. “Honor, humility, strength, empathy.”
“Yes. They may ask you about your job. Remember humility.”
“Okay. No bragging.”
I smile. “You just have to be honest. They might ask you about your weaknesses.”
Her eyes widen. “Why?”
“It’s to check your self-awareness.”
Her pretty lips purse. “So I shouldn’t tell them I’m perfect?”
“Ha. No.” Although she damn near is. “What would you say your weaknesses are?”
“This is hard.” Her lips firm with frustration. “My mom always said my tendency to make snap decisions was a weakness. She thought my imagination was a weakness. She said I talked too much.”
My chest tightens, thinking about a little girl growing up believing her imagination and chattiness were wrong. “What you could say is that you have a tendency to make quick decisions based on intuition, but over time you’ve also learned the importance of analysis and data.”
She nods quickly. “That’s true. Um. Should I tell them I hate public speaking?”
My lips quirk. “That would be honest, I guess.”
I’m sure all she has to do is smile and they’ll be completely spellbound. Just like me.
I’m afraid to think too much about what’s happening here.
Finally I close up all the books. “Okay. I think you’re ready. I better get home.”
“Oh. Okay. You could stay for dinner.”
I cup her face and gently kiss her. “I wish I could. I have to go pick up Cheddar.”
“Uh… you need cheese?”
I laugh. “No. My dog. From Garrett’s place. I took her there yesterday because I was going to be out late at the wedding.”
“You have a dog?” Her eyes pop big as Frisbees. “How did I not know this?”
“I guess we never talked about it.”
“What kind of dog is she?”