Page 111 of A Witch in Notting Hill

“Gut feeling,” he said. “Can’t explain it.”

“You know what we call that in this house?” I asked.

“I reckon I might have an idea.” I could hear the smile in his voice. In all the times I’d heard him talk about magic before last night, all I could hear was a scowl. And edge. The sharp blade of disbelief. But now? He was soft. Compassionate.

For a second, I considered the possibility he’d actually be able to help me. Until I realized the absurdity of it all a second later.

“Let me in, Willow.” We both knew he wasn’t just talking about the physical closed door between us. And that was the exact reason I couldn’t.

“I can’t,” I whispered, up against the door and wishing I could run to him on the other side. “Being with you, you know it makes my magic—”

“It’s not being with me that’s the problem,” he said. “That’s the thing. It’sresistingit.”

It’s . . . what?

“Oliver, respectfully, I’ve been dealing with this my whole life, and resisting is definitely not the problem. It’s the only thing that’s kept my magic under control. Well... more or less.”

“Think about it,” he said, and I could hear him getting more animated. “Every time something has gone awry, it’s because you’ve been pushing me away. When you pushed me away in the Underground and the Tube showered us in sparks, when you pulled my hands off of you in the shower and the pipe blew, when you tried to slam the door in my face and your hair caught on fire. Your magic misfired because you were pushing me away.

“And then think about the first time we slept together. When we finally gave in. And there was no catastrophe. And again last night, you let your guard down, and nothing happened, did it? No fires, no explosions, no power outages. Nothing.”

I slid down the door until I was sitting, afraid I might collapse if I didn’t. That couldn’t be true. There was no way I’d had it backward for thirty years of my life. All this time, and pushing peopleawaywas the problem?

“And didn’t you say the spell on your manager went wrong when you were in an argument about doing a romance film? When you were quite literally resisting romance? Willow, it all makes sense.”

“But how did you—”

“Uncle Arthur’s ledger,” he said. “He knew your gran, Willow. And the same thing happened to her. Her magic went haywire when she was talking to a man in the shop, and I wasn’t sure at first if that was connected, but then Uncle Arthur wrote she turned punch to gelatin at a party when she was telling a bloke she couldn’t go on a date because she had to return to America and it just, it all just clicked.”

“He wrote about Granny?” I asked, feeling my chin start to wobble. Anyone who knew Granny was the luckiest personin the world. And to hear stories about her from an outsider? Stories about her magic working just like mine? It was like she was giving me a gift.

“He did,” he said. “And he said the loveliest things about her. I can tell how much you take after her.” I swiped a tear from my cheek, unable to hold them in any longer. “And I reckon she’d have more faith than anyone that you could do this spell, Willow. With me as a close second, of course.” I laughed through my tears, wondering if any of this really could be true. “I think it’s worth a try, don’t you?” he asked.

“Letting you in?” I asked.

“Letting me in,” he confirmed.

I stood up and flicked the lock, prepared first to just let him into the flat. One thing at a time. I opened the door to find him leaning on the doorjamb, his hair a mess, his shirt wrinkled. Like he’d bolted out of the house the second he realized I needed him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Are you ready to try again?” It was such a loaded question I felt it wrap around me like fog. Like I could almost reach out and touch it.

“What if it doesn’t work?” I asked, my own voice smaller than I’d ever heard it.

“If you don’t trust me, trust your gran,” he said. “She’d tell to you go for it, wouldn’t she? Worries be damned?”

I laughed again, unable to resist the mental image of Granny Annie cheering me and Ivy on as we learned spells as kids. Jumping up and down with her arms in the air, even if we failed.

“So I just have to—”

“Stop resisting,” he finished. “Give in to it, Willow.”

For the sake of my magic, and for the sake of my happiness, I did. I kissed him like we were the only two people in the wholecity, laughing against his lips as Vera groaned, relishing the newfound lightness that came with acceptance.

“Do it,” he said, pulling away and turning his back to give me privacy. “Do it now.”