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“Where do we get one of those?”

“We don’t,” Kingston said.

“A witch,” Caleb corrected, giving Kingston an annoyed glare. “Do you ever pay attention to your schooling?”

I rarely thought of Caleb as my hot professor, but in this moment, he absolutely was, and it was doing it for me in a big way. He was one black-framed set of glasses away from starring in a porno. Fuck, these pregnancy hormones were really getting to me.

“You should ask Moira. She’s a witch.”

It was almost comical, the way Kingston thought he was giving me news I didn’t already know. “Is she? I hadn’t heard.”

“You’re lucky I love you, smart-ass.”

Caleb’s lips twitched. “Our Sunday has a smart mouth.”

“She does. I might need to find a use for it.”

“I can think of several, none of which involve her reciting her nightly prayers.”

“Oh, my God, what is happening right now? Am I still asleep? I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had a dream kick off this way.”