Chapter 9

The current pen had a hotel logo on the side and was not magical, unless the owners of the Sunny Days Inn had hitherto unrevealed double lives as warlocks. “Was that regular ink? You used your own personal power? Not anything pre-infused?”

“You’re cold!”

“Well, yes, but I could’ve waited two minutes!”

“Maybe I couldn’t!”

They gazed at each other some more. David wore jeans and a vintage-style green-and-blue plaid shirt, ordinary and comfortable; he must like plaid and blue, Colin concluded. David looked like the definition of the word cuddly, which Colin knew for a fact to be true, having been on that lap earlier. Dark hair, tanned skin, sturdy frame, neat and respectably tidy. Those forest-in-autumn hazel eyes.

And David blushed again, apparently embarrassed about either being looked at or his own melodramatic leap into protectiveness.