“I didn’t think you two were still a thing,” Vivi said as the skull’s mouth creaked open, eyes blinking, and Gwyn shrugged.
“We’re thing-adjacent. Speaking of,” she added, giving Vivi a look from the corner of her eye, “you and the Dickbag seemed a little sparky.”
Setting the skull back on the counter with a thwack, Vivi straightened up. “Excuse me?”
Another shrug as Gwyn drifted around to the other side of the table. “Just saying. The chemistry seems like it’s still there, and you are awfully worried about him.”
“I’m worried that we might have accidentally hexed the son of a very powerful witch,” Vivi argued, and Gwyn waved a hand.
“A likely story. I think you still like the Dickbag. Or at least want to have sex with him, which is understandable. I actually forgot how cute he is. Or did he get cuter over the past nine years?”
Moving to the counter, Gwyn faced Vivi, propping her chin in her hands. “What do you think?”
“I think that if you keep calling him ‘the Dickbag,’ you can’t also act like you’re a matchmaking tween in a Disney movie.”
“I contain multitudes.”
“Gwyn, I swear—” Vivi started, but before she could finish that threat, the curtain opened and Rhys appeared.
He looked irritated, an emotion Vivi had never associated with Rhys and one that, disturbingly, looked . . . really good on him. Something about the way frowning made the lines of his face even sharper, the blue of his eyes more intense.
She realized she was staring, and somehow sensing that Gwyn was looking at her with more smugness than any woman should, Vivi moved from behind the counter toward Rhys, holding her hand out for the mirror that he still held.
“Did it work?” she asked, and he blinked, like he was surprised to see her there.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes, got through to him no problem, thank you,” he said, handing her the mirror. “You said you found it at an antique store?”
Nodding, Vivi looked at her own reflection in the mirror, fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at her too-pink cheeks and too-bright eyes. Get a grip, girl.
“Yeah, just hanging out in the back. The owners had no idea what they had, and I decided to store it here rather than at my place.”
“Why?”
Rhys was looking at her, really looking at her, and oh, shit, here was another thing she’d forgotten about him. He was a champion listener. And not for show. He genuinely cared what you had to say, always wanted to know more. It was like having a spotlight on you all the time, but not in a way that made you feel exposed or on display. It just made you feel . . . warm. Appreciated.
Until it was gone.
Vivi tore her gaze from his and looked back at the mirror. “I don’t know,” she said. “Too tempting, maybe. No one should look into the future too hard, right? Of course,” she added, wiggling the mirror slightly, “I didn’t know it could also be used for long-distance phone calls.”
“Only if you’re trying to contact a particularly pretentious prick,” Rhys said, and Vivi raised her eyebrows.
“So it’ll work to contact you, then?”
Rhys’s smile spread across his face as slow and sweet as honey, and over his shoulder, Vivi saw Gwyn smirk, her fingers coming together to produce a quick shower of purple light as she mouthed, Sparky.
Had Rhys not been watching her, Vivi might have had a few choice words to mouth back to her cousin.
Instead, she lifted her head, holding the mirror against her chest. “Anyway. Everything’s fine? With your father?”