Owen

After Bash said he and Lilla were sleeping outside, I stretched out on the worn cushions of the couch and stuffed a pillow behind my head. The faint scent of vanilla wafted from the blanket as I draped it over myself, and thoughts of Becks filled my mind. Balling the cover up, I tossed it into the chair. I couldn't rest with her in my brain.

It'd been a long day. First, expecting to die, and then finding Bash's mom's necklace and worrying about him. I'd rather have fought more mimics; it'd be less draining than all that emotional crap.

I fell asleep to the sound of Lilla's shower running before Bash even finished carrying stuff to the truck.

A weight landed on me, pressing my arms into the couch. I turned my hands over to grab what pinned me down. My eyes snapped open. The jean-clad legs belonged to Becks; she was kneeling on my forearms.

My sight adjusted to the low light coming through the windows, and I relaxed my grip as she stared at the cold metal she had pressed to my neck. Her other hand held a knife with the tip pricking the skin over my heart. She was straddling me, though, so it wasn't the worst way to wake up.

I smirked up at her. "You keep holding knives to my throat. Is this a weird kink? Because, baby, you just gotta let me know."

Her eyebrows pulled together. "What?"

I lifted my hips, and she gasped before glaring at me. I wanted to laugh, but it didn't seem as though she'd appreciate that.

"Cut it out. It's not a knife, it's a trowel."

She held up the tiny shovel, and it was my turn to be confused. "Why are you holding a garden tool to my neck?"

"It was handy, and it's iron." Shrugging, she touched it to my cheek and watched me for a reaction. When I didn't move, she dropped it on the floor but didn't remove her blade from its place over my heart.

I glanced at the hand that was one hard push from killing me. "What about that? I'm sure it's a knife."

"Yep."

"Groovy. Want to tell me why? Because before this, there was definitely something between us."

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to form an answer. Take your time. I was reasonably certain she wouldn't kill me, and seeing her hover over me could've been a dream. She was gorgeous. Plus, she got the drop on me again, and that shit was hot.

Finally, she said, "There might've been feelings before you acted like a mimic."

My mouth popped open. "What?"

"You guys were bizarre before we fought today. Then, when Catriona died, you all looked terrified. The way Bash held Lilla, and the two of you gaped at each other, it was like you expected to turn to dust."

Shit. She was too observant. "You assumed we were monsters, so you brought us to your house?"

"I saw you kill them today, and hoped maybe you were mimics with a conscience, but I won't be lied to, and Emory wouldn't have been able to handle it. I needed to be sure."

"Well, we're not mimics. Can you take the weapon away?"

She squinted as she thought about it. "No, I don't trust you yet. You're hiding things, and I'm not moving until you tell me."

I could toss her off, but if she felt safe up there, I'd let her stay. "Alright. What do you want to know?"

Her mouth pinched to the side. "How about why you looked like you expected to die?"

I'd hate to lie to her, but no version of the truth didn't sound crazy. I didn't want to tell her I was basically a witchy craft project of Lilla's either. Shaking my head, I said, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Can't you just be happy we're not monsters and we're on the same side?"

"No, I can't. I'm not putting mine or Emory's life at risk fighting beside people we can't trust." She didn't move at all, just stared at me, waiting for an answer.

With a sigh, I decided to tell her as much of the truth as I could. "You already know about Lilla, right?"

"She's a witch, and a lot older than she appears."

"She's alive because her coven spelled her to keep her here to kill mimics. When they're dead, so is she."

Becks frowned. "But she's still fighting to stop them. That's so sad."

"It is. So are we good now?" I gave the knife a pointed glance.

"Not yet. Why did it look like Bash expected you to die too?" She tilted her head in thought. "Are you a witch?"

I huffed. "No."

"So what then? What's your deal?"

Again, I considered lying. Telling her I had no deal; I was a regular hunter, and I was only afraid for Lilla. But I couldn't do that. I cared about Becks and even if we only had a few days, lying to her felt like a dick move.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "My entire family were hunters. We were all killed by mimics."

She leaned back, but her focus stayed on me, and the blade didn't budge. "What do you mean, we?"

"Lilla gave my mom and me a spell so one of us could stay if we were killed before the mimics. We didn't want to leave with no one here to stop them. Mom was tired and sad—we'd already lost everyone else. I made her let me use the magic because I didn't want her trapped here by herself."

"What do you mean, trapped?"

"The spell attached my spirit to our home, and I was alone except for the occasional teens coming to check out the spooky abandoned house."

Her eyes widened. "So, what? You're saying you were a ghost?"

"Pretty much. I haunted my house until Bash came."

"You're messing with me."

"I'm not." With no proof, I was asking her to believe a lot, but she already knew about magic and monsters. Why couldn't this be real, too?

After studying me for a minute, she said, "Let's pretend I'm buying this. What happened when Bash got there?"

"He saw me." I spent the next ten minutes telling her about living in Bash's head, finding out Lilla lived, Bash and I fighting together, being captured by Catriona, Bash's dad dying, and Shay holding Emily and Nolan hostage at Bash's house. She stayed quiet, but at some point, she set the knife on the table.

"Then we followed Catriona here, using her blood for a tracking spell."

"If that's the truth, they'll tell me the same story, right?"

"They will. What would I possibly gain by making this up?" Telling her I died for a while had probably tanked my chances with her.

"It's bullshit," she whispered, but her tone had softened.

"It's true."

Her eyes narrowed. "You skipped the part about how you got your body back."

Mentioning my body, she glanced down and realized her palms were resting on my stomach with her fingers curving over my waist. She pulled away, setting them on her legs as her nervous gaze darted from mine. I held in a smirk. Maybe I hadn't ruined my chances yet, but I was definitely about to.

"I didn't get it back. Lilla created a new one and put my spirit in it."

"What does that mean?"

"She made a body that looked like me, took my spirit out of Bash, and stuck it in here."

Leaning forward, she studied me more closely. "Made you from what?"

My teeth clenched with nerves, and I took a deep breath. "You'd have to ask her, but it mostly seemed like dirt."

"Dirt?" Her eyebrows shot up. Reaching down, she ran her hand over my bicep that wasn't wedged into the couch. "Sorry," she mumbled as she lifted her knees momentarily to free my arms.

I gave my numb hands a shake. I hated that pins and needles feeling as the blood came rushing in. Then Becks moved closer to run her fingertips lightly over my face, and I was distracted as my blood found a new destination.

I didn't have room anywhere to put my arms without touching her, so I settled with my hands on Becks' hips. She didn't notice or didn't mind; either way, she didn't object. She was too busy caressing my skin and hair. Her thumbs smoothed over my eyelids as she inspected me, and I held still, enjoying her attention.

Quietly, she said, "I can't tell at all. Do you feel the same in this body?"

"Just like I did before. I haven't got to test everything out yet, though."

Her brow furrowed, and I gave her a wink, making her laugh. "Yeah, well, we're good, but you're not testing anything right now. I'd like to talk more though."

"Me too." I smiled as my hands slid from her hips to her back, and she let me guide her down to lie on my chest.

She'd fixed her hair in a tight knot, and I chuckled as I felt for whatever held it in place. "You were ready to fight me."

"I didn't know what to expect."

Finding the hairpin, I pulled it out and tossed it on the table before giving her black hair a gentle shake and separating the soft curls that stretched to her waist. As I combed my fingers slowly from her temple to the ends, she sighed and snuggled into the curve of my neck.

Everything was perfect. I could've stayed that way forever, but her next words brought me crashing into reality.

"What happens to you when Lilla and the mimics are gone?"

"I'll be gone too."

Her breathing stalled, and her voice trembled when she whispered, "I don't want you to go."

I wrapped my arms around her. "For years, I thought I was ready. Now, I wish I had more time."

"It's not fair. You've already given up too much." With her hand on my cheek, she turned my face to hers. "I think I like you, Owen."

Reaching up, I took her hand and kissed her palm. A deep breath filled my head with the scent of vanilla, strawberries, and something unique to Becks. My heart raced even as it broke. It'd be hard enough leaving Bash; thinking of what I'd leave unfinished with Becks was killing me.

"I know I like you," I whispered a second before her soft lips crashed into mine.

Her hand moved to the back of my neck as I held her tighter against me, and she let out a low hum. God, she felt fantastic. Lifting us, I rolled over and slid her under me. Becks' hands traveled down my chest, stopping to feel the edge of each muscle on their way down my stomach.

With an approving sound, she pulled away from our kiss to tug my shirt up and over my head, throwing it to the floor. I rested my forehead against hers as her fingers started down the same path without the barrier. Her skin was warm and smooth against mine, and I wanted more.

"You don't care that Lilla mixed me up like a gingerbread man?"

A titter escaped before she bit her lip. "Gingerbread is yummy. Besides, you feel like a regular man to me." She nipped at my mouth as her legs curved around my waist.

"Regular?" I scoffed.

She rolled her eyes and grinned. "I meant regular among crime-fighting underwear models."

"Oh. That's okay then." I kissed her neck and her strong legs gripped me. With a quiet moan, she turned her head, giving me better access to her collarbone when a yelp behind us caused her to jump and dig her nails into my back.

"Ahhh! My eyes! What the hell, Becks?" Emory covered his face.

She groaned at him as I collapsed on her for a second before sitting up. His timing sucked. I reached for my shirt, but Becks slapped it away.

I laughed as she turned to Emory, saying, "Why are you up so early? Quit being a baby."

He cringed. "I'm hungry, and I'm so glad you have your clothes on. Don't you have a bedroom?"

She jumped up. "You're right."

Grabbing my hand, she tugged me toward the stairs, and my jaw dropped. Maybe his timing wasn't so bad; a bed would be great.

The front door flew open as we walked by. "What happened?" Bash said with a knife in his hand and Lilla on guard behind him. His gaze flashed across the room before landing on me. "I heard yelling."

I shook my head. "It was Emory, but everything's fine."

"Where are you going?" Bash asked as we started up the stairs.

I glanced back at him. "Baseball."

"What?" Lilla relaxed her stance and Bash chuckled.

"Nothing." Bash said, "Why don't the three of us pick up breakfast?"

"Sounds great to me. Let's go," Emory answered and the door slammed shut.

I grabbed Becks and tossed her over my shoulder. Her shriek turned into a giggle as I charged up the stairs.

📚💜📚