Page 75 of Flirty Fall Fling

“I want all of you.”

I suck in air, my eyes squeezing tight. “Why?”

“Fuck … are you touching yourself?” he asks.

“Mm-hmm,” I say, pulling away before I lose control. I wait it out before building again.

“Blaire, I want you so fucking bad.”

“Jamie,” I whisper, closing my eyes, “I’m cursed too. I’m going to ruin your life.”

“You can try,” he says, and I instantly crumble.

Everything I’ve been holding back comes in intense waves. I drop the phone and ride my own hand. The orgasm goes on for longer than I expected.

As I come down from my high, I’m almost embarrassed by how desperate he makes me. I fish the phone out of the blankets.

My heart slams into my chest because I am obsessed with him and how he makes me feel.

“You make me lose control,” I whisper.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it?” I ask.

“Let me know when you make your decision about us. I’ll be waiting.” Then he ends the call.

I stare at the ceiling, wondering what the hell just happened. Then I pull the blankets to my chin and fall asleep.

18

JAMIE

Ihaven’t heard from Blaire in five days, and it’s felt like an eternity. I’m convinced she is my karma because so many times, the tables have been turned. Usually, I have control. Right now, I’ve lost it, and I don’t know what to think about that. I’ve kept myself busy, hoping this isn’t the end of us. It can’t be.

Somewhere around day three, I looked up the symptoms of being hexed. The list covered loss of appetite, obsessive thoughts, sleeplessness, restlessness, and staring out windows. It was posted on a website by somebody’s wine aunt. The post was last updated in 2009. I have every symptom on it, and it’s either a hex or something else I don’t want to admit right now.

This morning, I clear the kitchen island, and I lay out my instructions. It’s three pages of a printed spell. In front of me is salt and a candle that might be for decorative purposes only. I start with the protection spell because things are too quiet. This usually happens right before the bottom completely falls out. I write my full name on a piece of paper and circle it in salt. Then I close my eyes, trying to feel some sort of energetic push. Nothing happens.

I shrug and move to the next one—a love spell.

I grab the candle and visualize the woman of my dreams, just as I’m instructed. Then I strike the match and light the wick. The candle immediately goes out.

So, I light it again. It catches, holds, and burns out again. I check for a draft, but the air is still. I stand in my brother’s kitchen for a while, holding a burned match, trying not to take it as a bad omen.

I put everything away, understanding that some spells don’t get to be cast. Blaire told me she wouldn’t ever cast a love spell for me. Maybe it’s because she can’t. Maybe no one can. Guess I’ll have to win over the woman of my dreams the mortal way.

My phone vibrates, and I reach for it so fast that I almost knock over my espresso. I’m disappointed to see it’s just my brother.

Patterson

You alive?

Jamie

I think so.

Patterson