by Ashlyn Kane
“I hope so. These are not childbearing hips.”
There was nothing wrong with Cole’s hips, and Leo said as much.
Cole laughed. “How long did you let that stuff steep, anyway?”
“Steep time is a factor?” That could explain why Irene had kept it together while Leo was orbiting Saturn.
“I’ll make you some coffee,” Cole offered, standing. He pressed a kiss to Leo’s crown as he walked by.
“Do you have to?” Leo leaned back and watched Cole’s butt as he went by. It was a good butt. Round. Squeezable. “I mean, am I gonna get a magic hangover, ooooor?”
Cole turned around before he could reach for the kettle. “No, it’ll let you down gently in a half an hour or so.”
Nodding, Leo stood, forcibly reminded himself to stop nodding, and held out his arms. “Then come cuddle me for half an hour, and after that you can explain why you have mind-altering tea unlabeled in your cupboard.”
They snuggled on the couch for a few minutes, but enough time must have passed that Leo was already coming out of it, because the fuzzy pleasantness soon became more focused. “So we’re gonna go to dinner, right?” he said, tilting his head back in Cole’s lap.
Cole carded his fingers through Leo’s hair, raising goose bumps on his neck. “You want to?”
“I mean, if your grandmother isn’t gonna eat me alive while we’re alone together, she probably isn’t going to try anything while you’re actually present.” Leo stretched his neck a little, hoping to entice Cole’s fingers lower, to his nape. It worked; he sighed blissfully. “Besides, I think she likes me.”
The fingers paused. “I can’t decide if that’s comforting.”
Good point. Still. “Are you happy?”
Cole found a place on Leo’s neck that made his spine liquefy and his toes tingle. “More than I ever thought I would be.”
That took care of the last of the fuzziness. Leo felt everything in sharp relief now, and the warmth had migrated firmly south. Sitting up, he caught Cole’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “More than you ever thought you would be. Let’s see if we can do better.”
Chapter Twenty
“YOU’RE sure it’s okay I invited Amy?”
Cole rolled his eyes, shoving another Tupperware of candy into a reusable shopping bag. “Yes, I’m sure. Gran’s Samhain celebration is a neighborhood thing, not just a family thing. Plenty of mundanes not in the know. Besides, what were you going to do, uninvite her?”
Leo rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Sorry. I just…. It’s possible I’m nervous about meeting your entire family. At one time. Knowing they’re all witches.”
“Gran is the scariest, and you already met her. Everyone else is a cinch.” He paused. “Well, no. Aunt June’s husband is a piece of work. His name is Todd. Stay out of his way.”
“Is he a witch?”
“No, he’s just insufferable.” And sometimes a little too persuasive when it came to getting Aunt June to use her magic to his advantage. Cole hefted the bag and took one last look around the kitchen to make sure they had everything. “Self-righteous, entitled, blah blah blah.”
Leo made a face. “Thanks for the warning.” He picked up his own bag—he’d made a pumpkin stew, very in keeping with the theme—and followed Cole to the front door. “Other than Uncle Todd, anything I need to watch out for?”
“Try not to combine too much candy with alcohol. Oh, and after the muggles go home, we all dance naked around the fire.”
Cole was opening the door when he said it, so he didn’t see Leo’s face, but he did hear him trip. He turned around; there was nothing on the floor. Leo’s eyes were doing a fair impression of the eyeball jawbreakers Cole had made for a Halloween special.
Cole laughed. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”
Today street parking in front of Gran’s offered limited options. Cole slid into a spot half a block down and put the car in Park. He’d done the same countless other times, Fridays and Sundays and witches’ Sabbaths. But today didn’t feel like those other days.
Today he felt….
“Oh, hey, there’s Amy,” Leo said, pointing.
Cole’s heart sped—not quite a gallop, but maybe a canter. “Why don’t you go say hello?” That would give Cole a minute to center himself without Leo seeing how bad this freaked him out. He didn’t want Leo to think he had second thoughts. He didn’t. But he’d never introduced anyone to his family either, and Gran’s overture notwithstanding, he didn’t know how it was going to go.
Perhaps Leo understood, because he leaned over and pecked Cole’s cheek. “I’ll go meet up with her and we’ll be along. Take your time.”
Cole’s family, however, wasn’t going to allow him the luxury. “Uncle Cole!” As soon as he closed the car door, Ella hit his knees doing forty kilometers an hour and knocked the apprehension right out of him. “You’re pink today!”
And now a six-year-old was making him blush with comments on his emotional state. Talk about whiplash. “Princess!” he crowed, scooping her up and tossing her in the air. “Pink? Really?”
“Uh-huh.” Ella planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “But I’m not a princess, Uncle Cole.”
“Oh no?” He set her down again, grabbed the bags from the back of the car, and took her hand as they walked toward Gran’s.
“I’m an astronaut!” Sure enough, she wore a bright orange jumpsuit with NASA stitched on the pocket. He imagined that somewhere in Gran’s yard was an abandoned fishbowl helmet with several large breathing holes drilled into it. “I am a strong, innapennet girl. And strong, innapennet girls are astronauts.”
Oh boy. That was her mother talking, all right. Not that she didn’t have a point. But: “You don’t think princesses have to be strong and independent?”
Ella chewed on that as they walked up the porch steps. “Can I be a princess and an astronaut?”
“Kid, if anyone can, it’s you.” She’d probably have someone making her a crown in the next twenty minutes.
They reached the knee-high picket fence around Gran’s yard, and Ella abandoned him for the other kids. Half the neighborhood and then some appeared to be here already—Cole saw Nate and Andre, and Mrs. Hudson from three doors down, and someone dressed as a unicorn who might be his third-grade teacher.
“No costume?”
Cole whirled to his left; Kate wore, as she did every year, a maxi dress with a jagged hem, numerous pentacle necklaces, and a shoulder bag full of yarn and needles—a “stitchin’ witch,” she called it.
Their whole family was doomed to enjoy terrible wordplay.
“I came as an emotionally mature adult,” he said. He’d even texted her yesterday to apologize for avoiding her. Then he handed over his bounty. “Here, I brought ten pounds of candy.”
Kate took the bag and was in the middle of rolling her eyes when something over Cole’s shoulder caught her eye. Uncle Todd passed them by just then, and she caught his arm and gave him the task of bringing the candy to the porch for setup. For once Uncle Todd didn’t argue; Cole thought he might be a little afraid of Kate the way more sensible people feared Gran.
When he’d gone, Kate jerked her head toward the sidewalk. “Is that who I think it is?”
Cole turned.
Leo and Amy were walking up the sidewalk together. Amy had dressed up too: a black dress with a purple sash, purple striped socks, buckle shoes with curled-up toes. She’d drawn her eyebrows pointy and chosen a dramatic maroon lipstick, but the effect came across as cheerful and fun.
Leo was wearing a T-shirt he’d bought just for the occasion. He had the pot of pumpkin stew tucked under one muscular arm, and the shirt was in danger of rucking up, making it difficult to read the slogan: Witch Better Have My Candy. His blond hair practically sparkled in the sun, and his skin glowed, and if someone had told Cole right then that Leo had elf blood somewhere in his family tree, he’d have believed them.
“That’s my boyfriend,” he said, grinning stupidly
.
In the yard and on the porch, adult activity seemed to stop, though the children continued their game, laughing and shouting, oblivious.
“Everyone’s staring at us,” Amy observed as they came within easy conversing distance.
“Everyone’s staring at him,” Kate corrected, nodding at Leo. “Cole’s never brought a boy home before. Love your shoes, by the way. I’m Kate.”
If possible, Amy brightened further. “Thanks! I’m Amy.” She held out her package. “I figured Cole had candy covered, so I stopped by the new place in town and convinced the proprietor to give me some chocolate samples.”
They led the way to the porch, already fast friends.
“Amy fits in better than I do,” Leo joked.
Cole laced their fingers together. “Don’t be silly. Kate will initiate you properly later. She’s just giving us time to acclimate.”
“By ‘initiate’…?”
Cole shrugged. “Don’t ask me. Like she said, I’ve never brought a boy home before.” They reached the porch, and Cole ducked under one of the folding tables so he could plug in the slow cooker to keep the stew warm. “So. Who do you want to meet first?”
“Not Todd,” Leo said immediately, and Cole would’ve laughed, but he was too busy making shushing noises because Todd was only a few feet away. He pointed. “Oh shit,” Leo said, much quieter. Fortunately Todd was busy regaling anyone who would listen (and several who looked desperate to get away) with tales of his exploits as an insurance salesman, and didn’t seem to have noticed.
Cousin Julie and Aunt June greeted Leo warmly. Ella exclaimed, “He’s pink too! I like him,” but couldn’t be convinced to stick around longer than that, too busy being a space princess. Eventually they made their way back to Kate and Amy, now deep in discussion about the merits of chili chocolate.
“Is now a better time?” Cole teased, tugging Leo along with him.
“Now is the best time,” Kate said. She had a smudge of chocolate at the corner of her mouth. “I’m cheating on your candy.”
Amy looked up at him with a flash of guilt as she licked chocolate from her thumb. “This is so good.”
Cole made formal introductions, and Kate and Leo shook hands. The world didn’t end. It was all very… normal—the kind of normal Cole had longed for most of his life. So when Leo made hopeful eyes at the chocolate box, he just laughed and shook his head. “Come on, I promise not to be offended if you eat the chocolate.”
Leo took his time choosing—each chocolate had its own shape, from tiny birds to cats to a miniscule broomstick. Leo picked a pumpkin.
“Oh my God,” Leo moaned, and Cole went hot all over. “This is delicious.”
Cole vowed not to be jealous and asked Amy to pass him the bowl of candy corn instead. It was still nearly as fresh as the day he’d made it, and it melted in his mouth, even if it wasn’t as good as the chocolate smelled. But after a few seconds, he started feeling… strange.
“Cole?”
Cole licked his lips. They tingled. His tongue grew thick as his vision darkened. His fingers throbbed.
“Oh shit,” Kate said as though from far away, and the bowl of candy corn spilled as it dropped from Cole’s nerveless fingers. “Are they—I can’t see any curses—”
Had she just casually outed magic in front of Amy as though it didn’t matter? Cole wanted to rebuke her, but he couldn’t seem to take in air. His lungs itched, but his throat had swollen. He managed only a thin, pathetic breath.
“No, it’s—hazelnuts, he’s allergic to hazelnuts—there must’ve been some in the chocolate. It was on Amy’s fingers—”
Cole swayed, sure he was about to fall, but strong arms caught him before he could topple.
“Amy, call 911.”
He knew those chocolates were up to no good. Cole closed his eyes. They were heavy, and not being able to see with his eyes open freaked him out. His heart pounded.
Someone squeezed his hand. “Stay with me, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Cole didn’t have the strength to squeeze back. As soon as the hand was gone, he passed out.
Chapter Twenty-One
LEO couldn’t afford to hate hospitals. Fortunately, as of yet, he didn’t have a reason to. But he was getting pretty tired of the visitor’s chair.
It had taken him a few seconds to recognize the signs of anaphylaxis, and another few to remember Cole kept an EpiPen in the car. He’d never run so fast in his life, swearing to himself with every step that he’d learn to sew and put a damn EpiPen pocket in every piece of clothing Cole owned.
Cole was stable now, though. Expected to make a full recovery so that Leo could yell at him. But he hadn’t woken yet in sixteen hours, and even though he hadn’t had a secondary reaction, Leo’s butt was glued to this uncomfortable blue vinyl chair while he watched the cardiac monitor.
Knock knock knock.
“Hey,” Nate said from the doorway. He was holding a bouquet of daisies in pink and orange. “How is he? Any change?”
Leo shook his head. “Doctors think he should wake up soon, though.” Being in the blue vinyl chair gave him a new appreciation for his patients’ loved ones. Leo had medical training and all the experience in the world telling him Cole would likely be fine, but he hadn’t eaten or slept or left Cole’s side since their arrival. He couldn’t.
Nate set the bouquet on the windowsill, which was already overflowing with gifts from other well-wishers. Leo had thrown the one with assorted chocolates in the garbage, even though it didn’t contain hazelnuts. Uncle Todd had a warped sense of humor. “Well, when he wakes up, will you thank him for me? I didn’t get to him in person yesterday.”
Leo frowned. “Thank him?”
Nate nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. I have kind of a, um. A medical condition?”
Then Nate should be seeing a doctor, not a witch. Unless this was like the candies that helped with nausea? Or maybe he had anxiety and Cole prepared him some of that special blend. “Oh,” Leo said carefully, not wanting to assume anything aloud lest he spill Cole’s secret.
Nate nodded. “Yeah. And like, it’s fine, most of the time I don’t snore! But I guess wolf-me didn’t get that memo, because Cole gave me a recording of what I sound like when the moon is full, and man, I am loud. So. Sorry if I woke you, by the way, back before you moved in with him.”
Leo’s lips moved soundlessly as he parsed that. Wolf-me. Full moon. Snoring. “That was you?” he finally said, reeling. That trilling, eerie, rumbly noise that had rattled things in his apartment had been his werewolf neighbor snoring. And Cole had known about it! “You uh—you just sleep through the full moon?”
“I walk dogs starting at six.” Nate shrugged. “Wolves are good at sleeping.”
Wolves are good at sleeping. Leo was going to start keeping a diary of all the insane things he had learned. “Right. That makes sense.” He shook it off. “I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
“Thanks.” Nate glanced at his watch. “Well, since he’s not awake, I might as well see if they need me at the shelter. See you later, Leo.”
Leo waved him off, shaking his head internally. He wondered how long it would be before revelations like this became commonplace. Maybe one day he’d even start anticipating them.
He must have spaced out, hypnotized by the beep and whir of the monitors, because he about hit the ceiling when Cole wheezed, “Wow, you look terrible.”
“Cole!” Leo turned to look at him, taking in the dark circles on his face and the glassy sheen to his eyes. The steady, perfect rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, unassisted. “You look beautiful.”
Cole laughed weakly as Leo took his hand. “Liar.”
Leo had never meant anything so much in his life. He kissed the back of Cole’s hand. “Amy sends her profuse apologies. I guess the chocolate guy had hired someone to help him set up, and they mixed up the chocolates. They’re fired now, which doesn’t help you, but still.”
Cole groaned. “It’s my ow
n fault. I should know to be more careful around strange chocolates.” He took a couple of deep breaths; apparently talking was still a lot of work for his overtaxed lungs. “That’ll teach me not to carry my EpiPen.”
“I ordered five,” Leo admitted.
“Course you did.” Cole smiled weakly, closing his eyes. “For the record, anaphylaxis sucks. Do not recommend.”
“Noted.” Leo squeezed his hand. “Get some rest, okay? I love you.” The words came easily now, after everything that had happened. Leo wouldn’t risk leaving them unsaid.
Cole didn’t open his eyes again, but his smile was stronger this time, and he squeezed back. “Love you too.”
IT was a strange thing, having your ninety-two-year-old grandmother visit you in the hospital. Despite their recent reconciliation, Cole didn’t think he was going to like it.
Still, years of self-preservation instinct kept him polite. “Hi, Gran.” He could sit up under his own power now, more than twenty-four hours after his attack. He itched to go home, take a shower in his own bathroom, and crawl into the bed he shared with Leo, but Leo said he’d likely have to stay another night for observation if no one recommended him for discharge before three.
The clock had just ticked over to seven fifteen, adding salt to the wound and making Cole freshly cranky.
Gran hung her coat on the hook behind the door and moved to stand next to the bed. “Cole, dear. You look rested.”
Cole had done nothing but rest for a whole day. “I am ready to climb the walls.” He’d shooed Leo out to eat and shower around three, because Leo looked worse than Cole felt. He hadn’t returned yet, and Cole hadn’t paid for the TV service to be turned on, and he was bored. “Sorry I missed the party. I know it’s a big deal.”
