Magic & Mistletoe (2 page)

Harry blushed at the memory. “I don’t think it warranted the raised eyebrows.”

“Really? I reckon you were lucky to only get those. We’d seen him lugging a tree in there the day before. What else was he going to do with a bag of Christmas decorations?” Jason shook his head but reached up to ruffle Harry’s hair.

“Piss off.”

“Aww, don’t be like that. You know we’re only messing.” Jason nudged Harry with an elbow. “I think it’s sweet how you always get so flustered around him.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “It’s not sweet.”

Harry didn’t want to be
sweet
where Andrew was concerned. He wanted to be confident, rugged, and sexy. Andrew was all of those things. Despite Harry’s best efforts, he always put his foot in it without fail, and asinine comments fell from his mouth with alarming regularity. Maybe the crazy witch-girl had a point.

Thankfully the car park came into view as they rounded the corner. An inflatable Santa waved jauntily at them with the aid of the breeze, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. His feet were freezing. He wanted to get back to the flat he shared with Jason and have a coffee. Maybe with a shot of whisky in it. As she’d said, it was nearly Christmas, after all.

“So,” Harry began as they all settled in Alex’s car and Alex started the engine, “all joking aside, what the fuck was that?”

Jason turned to face him, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “What, the girl?”

“Yes, the girl.
Obviously
.”

“I thought we decided it was just some random superfan taking the whole
Merlin
thing a bit too far. That show finished ages ago. You’d think they would have moved on by now.” Jason shrugged. “Seriously, forget about it, mate.”

The four of them began discussing which pub they were going to later, and Harry slumped back in his seat, more than a little confused. Maybe he’d imagined the whole thing? He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window. Jason was probably right. He should forget about it.

 Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out with some difficulty, frowning at the unknown number on the screen. He thumbed open the message and promptly froze.

They don’t remember it like you do. Can’t have everyone knowing magic exists, now can we :)

Harry almost dropped the phone. The smiley face only served to make it seem more sinister. He hit Reply immediately, and he got as far as typing
What
when the whole message disappeared.
What the hell?
He rubbed his temples, positive he was going mad… or maybe he’d drunk more than he thought last night and was still hung-over?

Jason nudged him with his knee. “Hey, you okay? You look sort of pale.”

Harry sighed and shoved his phone back in his pocket before any more weird messages appeared. “Yeah, just tired.”

That sparked another round of piss-taking as his friends ribbed him about his lack of stamina in both drinking and anything remotely physical. It was a bunch of lies—Harry could drink like a fish and run rings around them—so he closed his eyes again and ignored them all.

By the time they got home, it was fully dark and bloody freezing. The forecasters were predicting snow in the next few days, but they hardly ever got snow in Bristol. Alex parked the car in his usual spot, and Harry followed as they got out and walked round to the entrance door of the flats.

The buildings on this part of the estate were relatively new, most of them about ten years old. The block of flats wasn’t like some of the ones he’d lived in growing up—these were only four floors, including the ground floor, and each flat had a living room with big picture windows on the corner of the building. The car park was at the back, and as they walked around, Harry looked up to see Christmas lights sparkling from almost every window, including the one he shared with Jason.

They’d put their lights up yesterday, along with a three-foot-tall artificial tree. Neither of them would be there on Christmas Day. Their families lived only a few miles away, but no way could Harry spend the days leading up to it without Christmas decorations everywhere. He loved Christmas.

They even had a bunch of mistletoe above their front door, and they laughed every time Alex or Lewis knocked on the door and had to kiss them. Alex and Lewis lived on the floor above Harry, so it happened a lot. Alex had already torn down two bunches in a fit of pique, but Harry had been prepared for that. He had a cupboard full of the stuff.

The four of them fell through the main door, laughing at the poor attempt at decorations someone had strung up in the entrance hall—a wreath that had seen better days and a string of lights that had a quarter of the bulbs missing. It looked tired and sad; they needed to fix that later.

Harry was at the rear as they stumbled inside, and he bumped into Jason’s back when the others stopped suddenly. The reason for the abrupt halt became glaringly obvious when Harry peered over their shoulders and saw Andrew standing outside his door, key in hand.

“Oh, hey,” Alex raised his hand in greeting and waved at Andrew. Lewis did the same. “Just getting in from work?”

Andrew paused with his key in the lock and smiled. At Alex and Lewis. Harry hated them both. “Yeah. Just in time too, they reckon we could have snow in the next hour or so.”

Harry snorted, because
come on
, when did the weather forecasters ever get it right? He opened his mouth to say as much, but everyone turned to stare at him, and he faltered. His mates had varying expressions of amusement, but Andrew had lost all traces of the smile he’d had earlier. He glared in Harry’s direction, and Harry swallowed, the words he had on the tip of his tongue were nowhere to be found. “Um….”

No one spoke, and the silence stretched into uncomfortable territory. Andrew scowled at him, and Harry scrambled for something to say to get that look off his face. He blushed furiously and glanced down at his muddy shoes to hide his flushed cheeks.

The weather report had been predicting snow on and off for the last fortnight and they hadn’t seen so much as one flake, and Harry had scoffed at the thought of the “experts” getting it right this time, not at Andrew.

When he finally looked up to say as much, Andrew had already opened his door and was halfway inside. He tossed a “See you later” over his shoulder, which Harry was positive didn’t include him. Then the door clanged shut behind Andrew as if he’d given it a hefty kick.

Jason sighed next to Harry and turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. “Eloquent as always.” He grinned when Harry groaned and covered his face. “I mean, seriously, what was that?”

“I don’t know?” Harry could easily think of a dozen things he should have said—none of which would have pissed Andrew off enough that he’d be forced to take refuge in his flat. But that didn’t do him any good right then.

“Come on.” Alex shook his head and patted Harry on the shoulder. “I’ll make you an Irish coffee. I feel it’s the least I can do after that performance.”

 Harry’s friends headed for the stairs, and he trudged after them. “It wasn’t that bad.” He hadn’t said anything stupid this time. There was that.

Lewis paused on the stairs and glanced back over his shoulder. “He looked so disappointed with you, like you’d failed to meet his expectations. Again. It reminded me of my dad when I failed two of my GCSEs.”

They walked the rest of the way to the second floor in silence, with Harry resigned to the fact that Andrew probably thought he was a knob. So much for witch-girl’s spell helping him out. Clearly it
had
been a load of bollocks.

CHAPTER TWO

Andrew kicked his front door shut and leaned back against it, his head making a soft
thud
when it hit the wood. Why did he feel so let down? The last four or five encounters he’d had with Harry Thornton had gone much the same way, but Andrew couldn’t help but feel there was more to Harry than the way he came across.

He’d chatted to Harry’s mates a few times since he moved in, and they seemed like a decent bunch of lads. Would they hang around with Harry if he was a twat? Andrew didn’t think so, but he’d yet to have a decent conversation with him that proved otherwise.

His stomach grumbled, reminding him lunch had been hours ago. With a heavy sigh, he pushed away from the door, then kicked off his shoes and hung his coat on the rack above. Clearly his judgement was clouded by the fact that Harry was hot, with his short dark hair and blue eyes. And call him shallow, but when Harry wore his glasses, Andrew struggled to care about his apparently shitty personality.

But Andrew wasn’t interested in a one-night stand or a hook-up. He’d been there, done that. Twenty-six wasn’t old by any stretch of the imagination, but casual sex wasn’t what he was after anymore. Maybe he’d think differently after Christmas, but this time of year always made him long for something more meaningful—an actual relationship rather than a quick fuck.

Oh well, he’d just have to keep looking, because as much as he wished differently, he and Harry were never going to happen.

Dinner took him longer to make than he’d planned because he had forgotten to take the minced beef out of the freezer that morning. He only realised after he showered and changed, so by the time he had defrosted the meat and cooked it to make chilli, it was almost nine o’clock. Sitting on the sofa while he ate his tea wasn’t the way Andrew usually spent his Saturday nights, but his friends had gone away for the weekend, and there was no way he could have got the time off this close to Christmas to go with them. To be honest, it was only Abi he really missed. The others were more her friends than his.

He’d expected at least a couple of texts telling him exactly what he was missing, but there’d been radio silence since he got back from work. He looked around for his phone, trying to remember where he’d put it. After a quick, fruitless search around the flat and in his coat pockets, it was obvious he’d left it either at work or in his car.

Now that he knew he didn’t have it, relaxing would be impossible until he went out to his car and fetched it. If he’d left it at work, then he’d have to manage without, but fingers crossed he hadn’t been that stupid.

With a glance down at what he was wearing, Andrew shrugged and bent down to pull his trainers on. He wouldn’t normally be seen dead in pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt outside his flat, but he couldn’t be arsed to go and change just to nip out to his car. Who was he going to see at this time of evening?

Andrew grabbed a hoodie and his keys and opened the door. The hallway was colder than he’d expected and he shivered, quickly zipping up and wishing he’d put on gloves and a hat, even if it was all of two minutes to his car.

The moment he heard voices from the stairwell, he knew exactly who it was.
Of course
. The door to the stairs was right next to him, but maybe, if he was quick enough, he could get out and hide in his car until they’d gone. Harry was the last person he wanted to see him in his pyjamas.

Unfortunately luck wasn’t on Andrew’s side, and he tripped over the mat in the entrance hall, dropping his car keys in the process. By the time he’d picked them up and unlocked the front door, Harry and Jason were already coming out the stairwell door behind him. Not wanting to be rude, Andrew turned around to face them, and dear God, why hadn’t he just run out of the front door?

All Andrew’s attention focused on Harry. The dark blue jeans he wore hugged his thighs, and Andrew had the strongest urge to rub up against them. Black boots and a dark jacket finished off the look nicely, and the new facial hair Harry was sporting was cruel.

Andrew hadn’t noticed it earlier, but in the stark light of the entrance hall, Harry’s dark stubble was as clear as day. As if Andrew needed more reasons to find him attractive. With any luck, this feeling would disappear as soon as Harry opened his mouth and reminded Andrew why liking him was such a bad idea.

Jason broke the silence first. Gesturing at Andrew’s pyjamas, he said, “Slumber party?”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Funny.” He waved in the direction of the car park. “Left my phone in the car.”

When he chanced a glance at Harry, Harry had his mouth open as if he was about to say something, but then the door to the stairs swung shut. For some reason Harry still had his fingers on the door frame.

“Ow!” Quickly shoving the door back open to free his fingers, Harry clutched them to his chest. “Shit, that hurt.”

Andrew moved before he could second-guess himself. “Let me see.” He reached out for Harry’s hand.

After a second or two, Harry held it out for him to inspect. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Andrew carefully took Harry’s fingers in his, and Harry’s sharp intake of breath followed his words. Andrew’s stomach fluttered and he concentrated on gently moving each finger back and forth.

“I’m a registered first-aider, and I broke two of my fingers last year. I know what to look for.”

“Lucky for Harry we ran into you, then.”

Jason’s voice made Andrew jump; he’d forgotten he was there. The hint of teasing in his tone made Andrew glance up, and he caught the tail end of the glare Harry shot Jason’s way.

After moving Harry’s fingers around to his satisfaction, Andrew straightened up and let go of Harry’s hand. “They don’t feel broken, but they’ll probably bruise a bit. I’d get them checked out if they swell up, though.”

Again, Harry looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead he closed his eyes for a second and let out a heavy sigh. When he opened them again, his gaze was warm and friendly. “Thank you.”

The smile he levelled at Andrew made Andrew want to do something stupid—like ask him back for coffee… or sex. He smiled back, helpless not to, but stepped out of temptation’s way. “You’re welcome.”

They stood staring awkwardly at each other. Andrew was now at a loss as to how to proceed since Harry wasn’t making an arse of himself this time. Then Jason’s phone beeped with a text message.