Page 52 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

“The vine doesn’t like fighting?” Barty asked. “It suffocates people.”

Vine slumped.

“Now you hurt its feelings.”

Nevan gave a quiet laugh, and I swallowed thickly, my stomach flipping at the sound, at his whole face lit up just staring at me, like I was the source of his happiness.

“The vine has feelings?” Tal screeched.

Barty just snorted, crossing his arms and glaring at his twin.

“Do you have feelings?” Nevan countered, and Tal frowned, his fangs peeking out.

“Huh.” Tal petted Vine, and it purred.

“It’s kind of cute, actually,” Barty said. “When it’s not jabbing us.”

“You lovebirds have fun.” Nevan began walking toward me and held out his hand. “We’ve got a date.”

I swallowed thickly, all my nerves on fire as Nevan’s hand clasped mine. Nervousness was not an emotion I was used to, but I’d been experiencing a lot of firsts with Nevan lately, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of it.

“Stay out of trouble,” I said over my shoulder to Vine.

Nevan and I walked down the stairs and onto the cobblestone street, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight. I’d been so focused on getting to the castle from my cottage that I hadn’t paid much attention to all the decorations.

Tents and stands lined both sides of the street. Children ran past us, laughing. Merry music floated through the air, some kind of fiddle playing along with a flute.

I shot a nervous glance at Nevan, who didn’t seem remotely bothered. He was just enjoying the view and humming along to the music.

It was as if he didn’t remember that kiss yesterday. Or maybe it didn’t mean anything to him. Or it was so bad he was ignoring it completely.

No. No, that was not a possibility. I was many things, but a bad kisser was not one of them.

My throat was thick with all the words I wanted to say, but I couldn’t make them come out. Words weren’t my specialty. They never had been, and I still had no idea how to broach this topic.

Sorry, but you can’t kiss me like that because I’m a five-thousand-year-old demi-godwitch and I can’t fall for you.

“Listen, about yesterday,” Nevan said, and I tensed, bracing for impact. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I got so wrapped up in the moment.”

I should’ve been relieved by this, but instead, disappointment filled me. So he did regret it. Of course he did. I was me. And he was, well, him. He didn’t want a relationship, and he’d made that clear from the start. I didn’t want a relationship. So why did this feel like he was yanking out my heart?

“It’s fine,” I said quickly. “We won’t let that happen again.”

“Right,” he said.

“Good.” I swallowed again, throat dry and sticky.

“Good.” He squeezed my hand, and my heart squeezed along with it. “Have you ever had a caramel apple?”

He tipped his head toward a stand we were approaching. The counter was full of apples on sticks. Shiny caramel coated the apple, and my mouth watered, memories flooding me.

“I have. My mother used to make these, you know.”

His head snapped to me. “Really? I thought you said she didn’t make comfort food.”

“They,” I corrected. “And they didn’t make the apples for me.”

“Then who did they make them for?” Nevan asked.