Page 70 of A Witch in Notting Hill

I wasn’t the kind of guy whose face lit up, but I could feel it practically glowing. “You’re coming back?”

“To the shop? Of course,” she said, like it was obvious. “We’ll just do a better job of hiding me.”

I couldn’t control what happened out in the city. I could protect her, but I couldn’t stop people from noticing her entirely. From seeking her out and trying to make a few quid by splashing her across a front page somewhere.

But I could control what happened in the shop, and I’d be damned if anyone saw her here again.

Interstitial

@SamSeesCelebs:Willow James spotted in London bookshop. #WIWJ

@Love4Matcha_:What’s she working on? Why hasn’t anyone released a statement?

@CelineMachine:I heard she’s dating Kit Hayes, but someone saw him in Erewhon this week. Why aren’t they together? Did they break up?

Chapter 25

Willow

Iwas awake before my alarm, which made me think I hadn’t really slept in the first place. Maybe because I was nervous about today. Or maybe because I couldn’t stop thinking about Oliver. At all. For even a minute. No matter how hard I tried.

The sun wasn’t even contemplating rising yet, and Vera and I were headed to the Heath for the Ritualistic Restoration Cleansing. Which I’d since learned needed to be completed in the dark and with as little clothing as possible. Nudity was preferred, but not required. For maximum contact with the water... or something like that. Because of course. What would my life be if anything was ever normal?

We opted for early in the morning instead of late at night to reduce the likelihood of being arrested for swimming in the ponds outside of guarded hours, and early morning in London in October was... freezing.

Bone-chillingly cold even on dry land with a coat on. It did not bode well for being in the pond in what felt like the world’s tiniest swimsuit. Though Oliver assured me people swam in theponds year-round, and so long as I had the proper recovery plan when I got out, I’d be just fine.

At the exact moment I thought of him, my phone buzzed with a text.

Oliver:See everyone at the Heath in 30. Do we have everything we need?

Lola:towels: check.

Minho:Hot tea ??

Oliver:Grand. And I’ve got a couple heavy sweaters. Willow, you ready?

Me:Hardly. Have you been outside yet today?

Oliver:We’ll have you warmed up in no time.

Little did he know, he’d been warming me up since the first time I set foot in the shop. At least now I’d have something else to blame my flushed cheeks on.

At this hour, Hampstead Heath was quiet. Tranquil. The swimming ponds and the changing meadows were empty, and a haunting wind curled through the trees.

“This would be creepy if it wasn’t so chic,” Vera said, climbing out of the carrier as I set her down. “But I have to admit, I do see why women have been bathing in these ponds for generations. Very Victorian. High class. Women in LA would eat this up.”

“Easy for you to say when you aren’t the one who actually has to get in there,” I said.

“Have you forgotten I couldn’t speak for a few days? Nothing’s easy for me to say. I’m a cat, Willow.”

“And yet, you seem to be yapping just fine.”

“Just wait until Oliver gets here. If you thinkthisis yapping...”

“Thank god he can’t hear you,” I said.

“I’d give him quite an earful if he could.”