Page 78 of Haunt Me, Maybe

This time, the magic came more willingly. It still pushed against the boundaries, but when I guided instead of forced, the edges rounded faster. The surface of the imaginary pool went from choppy to glass-still. My breathing slowed and I opened my eyes. The lamp’s glow had steadied. The frost on the desk melted into tiny beads that caught the light like dew.

“You’re glowing less,” Wes said, staring at me with something close to awe.

“That’s the idea,” I muttered, a little embarrassed at the scrutiny.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Shame.”

I looked up at him, letting my gaze linger on the sharp line of his jaw, the faint scar that ghost-magic hadn’t quite erased from his throat, the way the lamplight caught the amber flecks in his eyes. I didn’t mean for it to be anything more than a glance, but the moment stretched. My lips parted on an unspoken breath.

His expression changed. The teasing smirk softened into something darker, hungrier. He stepped closer, until his cool aura was right there, raising goosebumps along my arms.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice low for only me to hear. “If you keep looking at me like that while you’re supposed to be concentrating, I’m going to think stabilization is code for ‘seduce the ghost.’”

Heat crawled up my neck. “You’re the one staring like I just invented fire.”

“Maybe you did.” His gaze dropped to my mouth for half a heartbeat, then flicked back up. “From where I’m standing, you’re still the brightest thing in the room. Just…softer around the edges now.”

My stomach did a slow, traitorous flip. Fenn cleared his throat—loudly.

If you two are quite finished flirting directly in front of my eyeballs, perhaps we can finish the exercise before the sun rises.

Wes didn’t look away from me. “Jealous, toad?”

Fenn’s throat swelled, and I laughed, the last of the tension finally leaving my shoulders. Wes broke eye contact, but not before brushing the backs of his fingers along my wrist.

“Try it one more time?” he asked.

I nodded and closed my eyes again, letting the magic rise. Higher this time. It filled my chest, my arms, my fingertips, and then carefully smoothed back into that calm pool. When I finished, the air felt lighter. I opened my eyes to find Wes watching with that same, quiet intensity.

“Better?” I asked, and he smiled.

“Perfect.”

Fenn gave a small, satisfied thump of his foot. That is the beginning of control. Very well done.

I beamed with a lifetime’s worth of lost pride. “I didn’t make anything explode!”

“Progress,” Wes said dryly, but his wink told me he was teasing.

Fenn hopped down from the desk and headed to his cat perch.

That’s enough for tonight. You’ve given your magic shape, tomorrow we give it direction.

I nodded, suddenly exhausted in the best way—the bone-deep tiredness that came after real work. I closed the spellbook gently. The sigils on the cover pulsed once and then faded. Wes’s hand found mine, his cool fingers lacing through my warm ones as he tugged me toward the narrow bed in the corner.

“Sleep,” he ordered. “You’ve earned it.”

I didn’t argue. As I curled under the quilt, Wes settled behind me. His arm lay over my waist, and his chin tucked into the crook of my shoulder. I felt the magic inside me quiet fully. We were walking a knife’s edge between fear and flirtation, between training and temptation. Something told me the next few days were going to test more than my magic.

I closed my eyes and searched for sleep. Tomorrow, we’d build the trap. Tonight, I let myself rest in the certainty that for once, my power wasn’t something to hide. It was something to wield.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Wes

The bell above the café door jingled like it was personally offended every time someone walked in. Or maybe that was just me. I leaned against the back wall near the sassy espresso machine, arms crossed and invisible to everyone except Aven and Fenn.

Aven moved behind the counter like she hadn’t spent the previous night smoothing lightning into water.