Page 71 of Witchful Thinking
“True.” Another laugh, less cheerful, bubbled up from Alex. When he laughed, the years melted away and he was Alex from English class, the new kid all over again. Her own smile deepened. A warning rang out in her head whenever she leaned in too close and smiled too widely at him. The warning went whoop, whoop in her head like a klaxon siren every time he returned her smile. “Merman. Merman. Whoop. Whoop. Don’t get too close.” She didn’t like this siren.
“Should I bring anything to the cookout?” Alex offered.
“Just bring your cute self.”
“I can do that,” Alex said smoothly. Then his eyes dimmed. He stilled for a moment and faced her.
“Do you mind if I check up on you when I leave?” Alex asked, playing with the camera lens between his thumb and forefinger.
“Friends usually check up on friends. I wouldn’t mind it, but we’re more than friends,” Lucy said. “We never defined what’s happening between us. Is anything happening between us other than—really good sex?”
Alex peered at his camera, then at Lucy. She pushed on. Things were getting heavy, but she could handle it.
“The sex is only really good,” Alex said. He gave her a too-sexy-for-the-daytime smile that hit Lucy right at the base of her back and made her wobbly. Keep it together, girl.
“What are we to each other?” Lucy asked. Alex stepped forward to be closer to her. She wasn’t done talking to him. “I’d like to believe that we’re seeing where things go for the summer. Defining what we are now might set up expectations and keep us from getting hurt.”
“We should’ve talked about this before,” Alex said.
“Well, last time we were uh—busy. I was using my mouth for something other than talking.”
“Oh,” Alex said huskily. “I remember.”
His mouth dipped into a small frown, and his forehead wrinkled in concern. Alex opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air. He was practically walking on seashells, trying to keep from hurting her. She took a deep breath and gave him her full attention. He didn’t have to do this alone.
“Okay, let’s define it. Right here, right now,” Lucy said. “‘Companion’?”
“No. It sounds like we’re in a Jules Verne novel, racing around the world in eighty days.”
“Okay. What about ‘lover’?” Lucy offered with a growl.
Alex slashed a hand over his throat. “Nope. We’re not in the 1980s, getting freaky in a hot tub.”
“Okay.” Lucy ticked off her fingers as she said each word. “Partner? Sweetheart? Flame? Intimate?”
“No. Too cutesy. Too odd. And did you really say ‘intimate’?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying.”
His expression was tight with strain. “I know. I just want to get it right.”
“What is it about one word that freaks you out?” Lucy threw up her hands. She’d probably run through all the entries in Dictionary.com and still not come up with a word that worked for Alex. “You jumped off a cliff into the Pacific Ocean, but you can’t jump on a word.”
“I knew what I was jumping into then. I don’t know what I’m doing with you now,” Alex said. He twisted his mouth to the side, then turned to her fully, his expression warm. “I’ve known every ocean, lake, and river, but you’re deeper than any water I’ve leaped into—ever. It’s the waters within you that scare me.”
“I won’t let you get swept away,” Lucy said. Goddess, please let me keep this promise.
“Lu, that’s not up to you. This word needs to mean something for us.”
Lucy scanned the arcade. Her eye spotted a plush starfish displayed over the prize booth. It had a goofy smile on its face, an extended spread eagle next to a collection of the most recent popular video game characters.
She clapped her hands. “There we go. What about starfish?”
“Okay,” Alex said, uncertain but not dismissive.
“I mean, it works. Who doesn’t like a starfish? I know they’re called sea stars, but I think for what we want, it works. No surprises. No pressure.”
His face brightened at the suggestion. “You’re my starfish?”