close, so intertwined, all of it was making Jay-Tee tingle. A buzz spread through her; something in the pit of her stomach flipped, but it was a good flip. She let out a little sigh. Tom's hands moved on her waist and the sensation shivered through her body, all the way to her toes. It felt like magic.
It wasn't magic.
No. She wasn't going there.
She pulled her mouth from Tom's, touched his bottom lip with her fingers. Her face was so close she could see the little freckles on his lips. Pale brown on pale pink. She kissed each one. She could feel him breathing. "Pretty," she said.
"Jay-Tee," he said. "What's— "
She kissed him again, properly, with more passion, more oomph. He responded. He liked it, she could tell.
She pulled his hand from where it lay on top of her T-shirt and slid it underneath so she could feel his skin on her skin, just above her hip bone. His fingers were still cool but warming fast. His hands circled her waist. She shivered.
The phone rang. Sharp and loud, cracking open the heavy hot air.
Briiiiiing. Briiiiiiing .
"Phone," Tom said. She felt the word against her lips. Their mouths were still close.
It could be Reason or Esmeralda , Jay-Tee thought. It could be important. I should get it.
She untangled herself from Tom, stood up unsteadily, pushed back her hair, wiped her mouth. Put her hand on the door handle. It opened easily. Because it wasn't…She wasn't—
Briiiiiing. Briiiiiiing .
She stepped through. From Sydney back porch to Sydney kitchen. Whoosh! Magic. Not. She giggled. Wobbled to the phone and picked it up.
"Hello," she said, imitating Tom. "Esmeralda Cansino's residence."
"Hello, Jay-Tee," said a voice that chilled her. "I was hoping it would be you."
Jay-Tee's brain stalled. It was him . He scared her and she hated him. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't even like to think about him. But it was his voice on the phone. He'd hurt her. He'd hurt Reason. Stolen from them. He would do it again if he could. He was a bad, bad man.
"I have a message for you to deliver to Esmeralda…."
She wasn't listening. Thoughts were multiplying in her head. He'd hurt her by taking her magic. But she didn't— she forced herself to follow it through— she didn't have any magic. Not anymore.
Reason had taken it, or switched it off, or done something that had left her alive but as magic-free as big a dead spot, as her brother, Danny. She had no magic anymore, which meant that—
"Who is it?" Tom whispered. He must have clambered in through the window.
She shook her head.
"Jay-Tee? What's going on?"
What did it mean? It meant that he couldn't do anything to her. Nothing. She didn't have to be scared of him. She didn't have to think about him. He wasn't part of her world anymore. She was free.
"Did you get all of that, Jay-Tee?" he asked.
Jay-Tee giggled. "Nope. Not a word. I wasn't listening to you, Alexander, or Jason Blake, or Stephen Collins, or David Johnson, or whatever boring-ass white-bread name you're calling yourself this week. You can go shit in a bottle and eat it for all I care." Jay-Tee almost started laughing. She'd called him by name. All of his names!
"You can't do anything to me, not anymore. I'm not afraid of you. You can't touch me. You can't take my magic, 'cause I haven't got any! Go sit on that and rotate! Asshole!"
With a flourish she hung up the phone and fell into Tom's arms, which should have been all romantic and sexy and stuff, but she was wobbly and so was he, and they fell.
It hit her again: she had no magic, but she was alive. Everything had changed. Her whole life.
She had a life. She kissed Tom's confused and anxious face. His cheeks and then his mouth, which was when another thought hit her:
Jason Blake's— See? She could think his
It wasn't magic.
No. She wasn't going there.
She pulled her mouth from Tom's, touched his bottom lip with her fingers. Her face was so close she could see the little freckles on his lips. Pale brown on pale pink. She kissed each one. She could feel him breathing. "Pretty," she said.
"Jay-Tee," he said. "What's— "
She kissed him again, properly, with more passion, more oomph. He responded. He liked it, she could tell.
She pulled his hand from where it lay on top of her T-shirt and slid it underneath so she could feel his skin on her skin, just above her hip bone. His fingers were still cool but warming fast. His hands circled her waist. She shivered.
The phone rang. Sharp and loud, cracking open the heavy hot air.
Briiiiiing. Briiiiiiing .
"Phone," Tom said. She felt the word against her lips. Their mouths were still close.
It could be Reason or Esmeralda , Jay-Tee thought. It could be important. I should get it.
She untangled herself from Tom, stood up unsteadily, pushed back her hair, wiped her mouth. Put her hand on the door handle. It opened easily. Because it wasn't…She wasn't—
Briiiiiing. Briiiiiiing .
She stepped through. From Sydney back porch to Sydney kitchen. Whoosh! Magic. Not. She giggled. Wobbled to the phone and picked it up.
"Hello," she said, imitating Tom. "Esmeralda Cansino's residence."
"Hello, Jay-Tee," said a voice that chilled her. "I was hoping it would be you."
Jay-Tee's brain stalled. It was him . He scared her and she hated him. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't even like to think about him. But it was his voice on the phone. He'd hurt her. He'd hurt Reason. Stolen from them. He would do it again if he could. He was a bad, bad man.
"I have a message for you to deliver to Esmeralda…."
She wasn't listening. Thoughts were multiplying in her head. He'd hurt her by taking her magic. But she didn't— she forced herself to follow it through— she didn't have any magic. Not anymore.
Reason had taken it, or switched it off, or done something that had left her alive but as magic-free as big a dead spot, as her brother, Danny. She had no magic anymore, which meant that—
"Who is it?" Tom whispered. He must have clambered in through the window.
She shook her head.
"Jay-Tee? What's going on?"
What did it mean? It meant that he couldn't do anything to her. Nothing. She didn't have to be scared of him. She didn't have to think about him. He wasn't part of her world anymore. She was free.
"Did you get all of that, Jay-Tee?" he asked.
Jay-Tee giggled. "Nope. Not a word. I wasn't listening to you, Alexander, or Jason Blake, or Stephen Collins, or David Johnson, or whatever boring-ass white-bread name you're calling yourself this week. You can go shit in a bottle and eat it for all I care." Jay-Tee almost started laughing. She'd called him by name. All of his names!
"You can't do anything to me, not anymore. I'm not afraid of you. You can't touch me. You can't take my magic, 'cause I haven't got any! Go sit on that and rotate! Asshole!"
With a flourish she hung up the phone and fell into Tom's arms, which should have been all romantic and sexy and stuff, but she was wobbly and so was he, and they fell.
It hit her again: she had no magic, but she was alive. Everything had changed. Her whole life.
She had a life. She kissed Tom's confused and anxious face. His cheeks and then his mouth, which was when another thought hit her:
Jason Blake's— See? She could think his
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