Then, like I wasn't thrown enough, Cal leaned down and picked up a potted African violet on the low table next to the sofa and brought it over to me. For a second, I wondered if this was his socially awkward way of trying to give me flowers.
Rachel HawkinsThe sparks faded, but Cal didn't take his hand off mine.
Rachel HawkinsCal's fingers tightened on mine, and my heart thumped in response. The library felt very quiet and very still around us. "You'll feel it.
Rachel HawkinsI'm not sure how I feel about you 'handling my life energy,' Cal."
He grinned, and I was taken aback by how different it made him look. Cal spent so much time being stoic and solemn that it was easy to forget he even had teeth. "I'll buy you dinner first next time, I promise."
Okay, the grin was one thing, but that had definitely been flirting.
Cal curled his fingers around mine and raised my left hand to the brownish flower. There was a callus on his thumb that should have been irritating against my skin.
Rachel HawkinsThen he paused, and I could tell that whatever he was going to say was really important. There was even a chance he might use more than five words to say it. "Or maybe your magic isn't destructive after all. The rain of Doritos, the bed things, this...Maybe it's just that you create too big, you know?"
When I could find my voice, I said, "Cal, that might be the nicest thing anyone's said to me since we got here."
He twirled one of the naked roots between his finger and didn't meet my eyes. "It's true." The he glanced up and gazve one of those half smiles I was really starting to like.
Great. We can pick out our colors."
"What?"
"For the wedding. I'm thinking melon and mint. Supposed to be really hot next spring."
Cal laughed out loud, the first time I'd ever heard him do that. "It's a plan. See ya, Sophie.
Because there's no way I can do that."
"Yes, there is." He reached out, startling me, and pressed his palm to my cheek.
Almost immediately, a sense of well-being flooded through me, a blissful numbness that started at the top of my head and spread all the way down to my toes. "Seriously, best powers ever," I mumbled drowsily.
"Go to bed, Sophie," he said, dropping his hand as if my skin had burned him.
I sat up so fast I practically broke the sound barrier, but it was Cal standing in my doorway, not Archer. I heaved a huge sigh, one of relief, and not even a little bit of disappointment.
Of course, once I'd wrapped my mind around the fact that it was Cal and not Archer standing in my bedroom, it dawned on me that Cal was standing in my bedroom.
Cal shrugged. "That's one word for it. I'm not all that thrilled with it either."
I pushed the covers off and got out of bed, making sure my nightshirt didn't ride up. "Cal, I already have to deal with an angry dad today. Please don't pull some macho "bethrothed" thing on top of it, okay?"
He caught my wrirst. "I'm not. And it's not you I'm pissed at. It's them. They shouldn't have taken you there."
His hand was warm on my skin.
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