11. Ezra

Chapter 11

Ezra

T he sun snuck through the crack in the curtains as I stared at the stars on the ceiling. It wasn’t early, but Nova was still dead asleep. I had woken up with her pressed against me but quickly wiggled away. There were some things she maybe shouldn’t be waking up to.

Last night had been the perfect opportunity—an opportunity I squandered. I had her pinned against the counter and then against the wall. Her body had been pressed against mine, but the minute she whimpered, nerves consumed me, and the confidence I had mustered vanished. Her eyes had darkened to a deep wine color filled with intent and desire. I should have leaned in before the phone rang. I should have kissed her regardless of the damn phone.

Nova’s mom had always been meddlesome and had been pressuring Nova to marry the moment she turned twenty. It wasn’t uncommon for witches and wizards to marry early, but it was becoming an outdated practice. Nova didn’t talk much about marriage, but I knew it was something she wanted. But whoever Jed was had to get in line.

I would marry Nova. Somehow, some way, I would make it happen.

Soft snoring and twitching pulled my attention to Nova next to me. She was curled into a ball with her toes peeking out of the blanket. Her long eyelashes fluttered every few seconds, and she let out little soft moans that made it hard to concentrate on beating myself up for not kissing her. I was hoping sleep would erase the memory of her body against mine, but it hadn’t. Afterward, we should have talked about what happened. I should have said something to explain what I did, but I didn’t. And she didn’t push me.

After she hung up, I cleaned the chocolate from her face and tossed my shirt in the wash. We finished putting together the trays of baked goods for the luncheon and watched a movie. The couch had never seemed smaller while we watched Halloweentown. Her quiet giggles at lines she had heard a million times, the way her chest rose and fell under her tank top, and the heat of her cheek as she started falling asleep on my shoulder made me acutely aware of how she energized my senses. I pinned my eyes on the TV and kept my hands as close to me as possible, worried that one lingering look would snap my self-control.

The wedding tomorrow popped into my head. I had almost forgotten about it since I didn’t want to go, but my cousin Damero marrying Armenia Redd was a big deal. It secured alliances and maintained peace. Except this peace was now threatened by the mere existence of the sweet witch lying next to me.

Elias had given me until Sunday to tell Nova what he knew and decide what to do. I had planned on telling her this morning, but worrying her before lunch wouldn’t be the best idea. She wore her emotions on her sleeve. She might have been able to control her eyes, but her expression was a different beast. Her parents would be able to tell something was wrong.

The luncheon was one of Nova’s least favorite things in this world. Her family was the center of attention for the afternoon, and she always wanted to hide under a rock when it happened. But she was expected to be there, just like I was expected at the wedding. We weren’t strangers to these events, being forced to attend since we were children, but we were strangers to the creatures there, regardless of how often we had met them. Neither of us fit in, but at least we had each other.

Nova stirred and flipped to face me. Reddish sheet marks were etched on her cheek from where she had been holding them, and a lock of her dark purple hair fell across her nose. Beautiful. Peaceful. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and she gave me a soft, almost drunken, grin.

“Good morning, Ezzy,” she mumbled. The outline of her curves was visible under the bedsheet as I forced myself to get out of bed. “It’s the second time I’ve woken up to you in my bed.”

“It is,” I muttered. My throat felt like sandpaper as those two words were the only ones I could push out.

“If I’m not careful, I might get used to it.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she uttered my dream. I hoped she would.

I’ve imagined waking up to Nova every day for years. I knew I loved her throughout our childhood, but I thought it was a normal feeling between best friends. Then, at some point, those feelings evolved from a stupid boyish crush to wanting her to be my wife. My feelings stayed shoved down in the depths of my mind for years until a handful of years ago when I stopped being able to deny them to myself.

On a random Tuesday night in college, I walked Nova back to her dorm from the library. She had made sure to step on every leaf on the ground as we walked and talked my ear off about her Halloween costume for a party she was dragging me to. Halloween parties were the only ones she ever went to since she loved the costumes humans created and felt like she could easily blend in. As we walked up to the door of her building, a thigh-high pile of leaves sat in the grassy area a few feet from us. Nova gasped so loud I thought she was hurt before running toward the pile. When we were kids, we used to jump into the piles together, laughing and having to pick out crunchy leaf pieces from places I didn’t realize they could get wedged in before.

I watched her as she darted for the leaves. Even in her hurry to throw herself onto the pile, she tried to step on every leaf in her path. She almost slipped, which made my heart skip, but then safely landed on the pile, sending the dead leaves floating in the air around her. It wasn’t the first time she had done this, and it wouldn't be the last, but something about the glow of her face, highlighted by the dimming street light, helped me realize I wanted to watch her do this for the rest of my life. On that sidewalk, after years of ignoring my feelings for her, I finally admitted that I couldn’t—and didn’t want to—live without her.

Being the only Woodhaven without a special ability, the only wizard without one, knocked at my insecurities every day. People looked at me as if I was broken and damaged, but not Nova. She looked at me with light in her eyes and never treated me differently. Nova brought me joy, pure and unfaltering happiness. Even now, I felt it as she looked at me with her lazy smile. She was supposed to be mine.

I got off the bed and started looking at my phone before I did something stupid. Right now, we had to get ready, and I would get a taste of what it would be like to have her on my arm. Her smile faltered slightly before returning.

“I don’t want to go to the luncheon anymore,” she groaned, throwing her forearms across her eyes. “I want to stay in bed forever.”

“Well,” I chuckled. “I hate to break it to you, but we have an hour before lunch, so you won’t be able to fulfill your dream.”

“An hour?!” Her eyes widened, and she shot up. Her head tossed back with a heavy sigh, exposing her neck, and I wanted to bite it or kiss it. This was not normal.

“Yeah. We were up pretty late. So, come on, sleepy girl. Time to get ready.” She shook her head. “Don’t make me rip off the covers,” I warned. The black nail polish on her fingers appeared around the edge of the sheet as she clutched it.

“I don’t want to,” she pouted, collapsing back on the bed to stretch. I walked to the foot of the bed and ripped off the covers from her body. “Ezzy!” She screamed mid-stretch when the cold air hit her exposed midsection. My eyes were stuck in place.

In her sleep and the stretch, Nova’s tank top had ridden up, exposing the skin just under her chest. Her stomach was partially covered in black ink, a continuation of the tattoo running up her leg and past her waist. I studied the outline of the vines and flowers that crept up her side, branching out to her belly button and disappearing around to her back. Her shorts had shifted down slightly, and on her right hip, she had a small outline of the woods from behind the house her grandparents had lived in.

My eyes were drawn to the edge of her bright pink panties peeking from the top edge of the shorts as she rolled to the side of the bed and off onto her feet. Knowing the color made me want to crawl into bed with her and finish what I started last night. However, rushed was not my style. If I was going to throw our friendship to the wind, I would do it right and take my time.

“What are you looking at?” Nova adjusted her shirt, covering her stomach. Her face grimaced as she wrapped her arms around her midsection. A shy blush spread across the bridge of her nose.

“Oh…I…uhh…” I tried to find an excuse for staring. “I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen most of your tattoos.”

“Really?” She cocked her head.

“Yeah.” I took a few steps toward her. My voice was thick in my throat, caught with what I felt but didn’t dare say.

“I guess we never really go to the beach or anything. I never thought you’d be curious about them.”

“I love your tattoos,” I stated. Her eyes widened in surprise.

A short silence settled in the room before she asked, “Do you want to see them?” She was almost ashamed of her offer, but how her eyes darkened like they had yesterday told me a different story. My best friend’s gorgeous eyes were dark but glistening and lustful. Her intense gaze had me wishing I was a mind reader.

I nodded. Any possible words were robbed from me, and I thanked the Gods my pants were loose enough not to show how much I wanted to see them. Nova stepped back, and a weight settled in my stomach. Had she been joking?

She looked up at me and pulled her tank top over her head. Her sports bra matched the color of her underwear, bright pink, an unlikely trait and an unlikely color. I knew she had a lot of tattoos, but I was surprised by the sheer amount of ink covering her skin. It was mesmerizing.

“Woah,” I whispered, my eyes trailing the black ink. My fingers itched to trace every line and admire every detail.

Heavy breathing filled the silence as my finger ran up the left side of her ribcage, tracing the branch leading to the plethora of flowers blooming on her body. It was a single piece, starting at her ankle and continuing to the nape of her neck, branching out in different spots to cover her rib cage and a portion of her stomach. The piece was expansive and intricate, a beautiful piece of art on an even more gorgeous canvas. Her skin was soft and warm. Her body shuttered, but her feet stayed firm on the carpet.

The room was quiet. The only noise came from some birds I assumed were perched on the tree outside. But inside, all you could hear was my shallow breathing and Nova’s —

SLAM!

We sprang apart, and Nova hurried to put her tank top back on as I ran out to the living room. My heart pounded now for a different reason. A furious Crystal had slammed the door so hard that the glasses on the island rattled.

“Crystal, are you okay?” I asked, feeling my muscles relax when I saw it was her.

She marched to the freezer, snatching the ice cream and grabbing a scoop from the drawer. Her eyes narrowed at me, not in surprise but in misdirected anger. She scoffed as Nova came from behind me.

“Crystal! What happened?” Nova asked.

“Human. Men. Suck!” Crystal groaned. Nova and I watched helplessly as Crystal threw the scoop into the sink and stabbed a spoon into the frozen concoction instead. “Actually,” she stopped at the door of her room and made eye contact with me before screaming, “Men just suck!” She slammed her door and locked it.

“Do you want to go after her?” I turned to Nova.

“No.” Nova shook her head and walked back into the room. She opened her closet and pulled out a navy blue dress. “If I try to talk to her now, she’ll just yell in my ear. I don’t know if a Whisperer has ever yelled at you, but it hurts. She needs space first. Talk later.”

“We should get ready,” I sighed, hating myself for missing the moment—again.

Nova nodded, and we got ready. I watched her do her makeup in record time. She didn’t need it, but she loved wearing it, and it always looked incredible. Just like yesterday, she leaned over the sink and lightly applied lipstick, followed by some shimmering substance that made her lips sparkle. Everything in me was dying to know if she tasted like cinnamon and if her lips were as soft as I imagined they would be.

I would not miss the next chance I had at kissing her.