Page 20 of Hexed & Hazy

“Picking up a few things for Seth,” I mutter, certain my face is scarlet. “He’ll be coming home soon, he just needs—well…”

Underwear. He needs underwear, but there’s no way I can say that to her face. How can I explain why without mentioning the hex?

She chuckles. “It’s good that you’re here. I’ve been waiting for him to help me with something, but you’ll do.”

I shut the door behind me, and she drags me inside—their home is a bit cluttered with Seth’s shoes and workout equipment, but squeaky clean otherwise. He works hard to keep it that way.

“What’s wrong?” I glance over my shoulder. Maybe Seth should be here for this, whatever it is.

“Can you get this open?” She holds out a thing of ice cream—the kind with the screw-on top. They’re notoriously hard to open, in my experience, and I can only imagine how her lack of muscle control makes it harder for her.

My heart tugs.

“Of course.” I shake my head. “Sorry for keeping him so late. You know you can always come over, right?”

She waves a hand. “I know, I know, but there’s no need for something like this. Don’t baby me.”

It’s rare for her—so kind, nearly motherly—to be sassy with us, and I can’t help the puff of laughter that passes through my lips. I take the cool ice cream in my hands and twist the lid once, twice, grunting.

“Not so easy, is it?”

“They make these things impossible to open. Not very disability-friendly. I’ll have to write the company a strongly worded letter.”

“And I’ll sign it too.”

I twist again, and it finally comes undone. I wrap a paper towel around it and give it to Liezel. “Do you need anything else while I’m here? I can do the dishes, help you get changed⁠—”

She gives me a knowing look. “I don’t need anything. Go take care of Seth.”

Great. My face is hot again.

Take care of Seth… well, I’m doing my best, but it seems the hex will not be so easily broken. It would be too good to be true if it were, but I can’t help but feel like a failure.

Could have done better. Should have.

I shake off her words and the accompanying look and go to his room to grab what I came here for. It would be too easy to curl up in Seth’s warm bed and comfort myself with his scent—the scent of musk and, somehow, sunshine, even in the gloomiest time of the year.

I don’t. I run home, knocking on my bedroom door like I’m a stranger. Considering how this night has gone, I feel like one.

“Come in,” Seth calls from the other side of the room.

Inhaling deeply, I open the door and shove my hand in, offering the clothes—sweatpants, boxers, and a T-shirt.

“C’mon. It’s your room. You don’t have to stay out there.”

I count to three and go inside. And there he is—sitting on my bed with a towel wrapped around his waist. Gods, he’s so strong—strong enough that I know he could throw me around.

No. No. Where did that come from?

“Um. Here.” I hold out the clothes and turn my head to the side, averting my gaze.

“Don’t get shy on me now.” From the corner of my eye, I witness him smirking—something I’ve seen him do before but never in my direction. Flirty. Frustrating. “You already saw me in the bath.”

“I’m not shy.” I lift an eyebrow, forcing myself to meet his darkened gaze. “I just want you to get dressed. Can you please do that for me?”

He stands up and approaches, tenderly taking the clothing from my grasp. I nearly hang onto them too tightly, but I’m no match for Seth. My empty hands drop to my sides, my chest rising and falling as if I’ve run a marathon rather than dragging my feet up the singular set of stairs.

“Can you turn around?” His voice becomes a low rumble, almost unrecognizable.