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That was what I wanted at some point in my life, for someone to look at me like I looked at tacos.
“I could do a lot of things. I have done a lot of things, and sometimes, I do hurt people,” he said quietly, softly. “But I could never hurt you.”
His shirt read MUGGLE IN THE STREETS, WIZARD IN THE SHEETS.
“What do you need help with, Evie? Tell me. The world is your oyster and I’m your pearl.”
His body moved, and before I knew what he was doing, the very tips of his fingers touched my cheek. The contact carried a muted static charge. He lowered his head, and I felt his nose brush my other cheek. When he spoke, his tone was oddly rough. “Peaches.” I inhaled sharply. “It’s … it’s my lotion.” “You’ve said that before.” Luc lingered there, his warm breath puffing against my skin. “I’ll call you, okay?” “Okay,” I whispered, feeling like every breath I took wasn’t enough. He pulled back, letting his fingers slip from my cheek.
“A bottle?” Grayson laughed. “Did you just throw a bottle?” “At least she’s helping,” Luc shot back, lifting his hand. “Hey.” Grayson pulled the sucker out of his mouth. “I’m here for moral support.”
“She called you Peaches?” A faint smile tugged at his lips as he lifted his gaze. “I kind of like that.” My nose wrinkled. “I don’t.” “It works for you.” “It’s just … lotion.” “No.” He let his head fall back. “It’s more than that.”
