The Ex Hex Quotes

Would've been worth it," Rhys said, and then his smile faded even as the look in his eye grew warmer. "I was mad about you, Vivienne," he said softly. Sincerely. "Utterly mad.

You almost ran your ex-boyfriend over with a car, and then left him lying in the literal dirt on the side of the road. It is such a big deal, you absolute queen.

Never mix vodka and witchcraft

the best cure for anything was candles and a bath,

There's no really good timing for this kind of thing, is there? Finding your person? It just kind of happens when it happens. Or so they say.

May I kiss you? and she’d said, Now? and he’d smiled that slow smile and said, Now is preferable, but I’m open to whatever your schedule allows, and how was any woman supposed to resist that?

The Full Potter," he repeated. "Not finding out you're a witch until you're older, not growing up with it. 'Yer a witch, Vivi,' the sort of thing.

Have you brought me out here to murder me?" he called. "Because that probably would solve your problems, but I have to say, I object on both moral and personal grounds.

I like how my job is the only one with any real threat of danger,” Gwyn said, but off Vivi’s look, she lifted her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, Operation Soothe the Muggles, I’m on it.

Gwen had no doubt that whoever he was, his ancestors had absolutely once stared down the business end of guillotine. You don't get cheekbones like that without oppressing some peasants.

But when he drove down the mountain and knocked on Elaine's door, she was the only one there. Well, her and the cat. As soon as Elaine opened the door, the furry little bastard looked up at Rhys and very succinctly said, 'Dickbag.

It turned out a cat’s thoughts were mostly about food and insults,

Seriously, dude, don’t care whose dad you are or how fancy a witch you are, keep talking shit about my cat, and I will personally kick you down this mountain.

Gorgeous blue skies, rolling green hills, the kind of day that made one want to take up painting or maybe develop some kind of poetry habit.

I am mad about you, Vivienne Jones. Again. Or maybe I should say still, because I'm gonna be real honest with you here, cariad. I don't think it ever went away.

Finally, fucking finally mine.

And he would always break her heart. He wouldn't mean to, he definitely wouldn't want to, but he would.

So really, it was no wonder that her lecture on the function of the feudal system consisted of exactly two bullet points, one of which just said, "PEASANTS??

and the next thing I knew, I had, like, twelve Wikipedia tabs open, and it was dark outside.

She'd smiled at him, and it had been ... Instant. Irrevocable. A fucking disaster.

What Rhys knew was that kissing her had felt like waking up. Like he’d been drifting sleepily through everything for the past nine years until he tasted her mouth again and remembered what actually being alive felt like. Better than any magic, Vivienne’s kiss.

looking like a saint, or, even worse, like Stevie Nicks, because how were you ever supposed to say no to Stevie Nicks?

and it seemed pretty certain to him that she’d somehow spent the past two days getting even lovelier.

If we could stop loving people, life would be so much simpler,

To catch someone’s eye and know what they were thinking. To be in a room full of people and know that that person was yours. To not just enjoy someone, but enjoy the person she was with them.

Another one of Aunt Elaine's lessons—the best cure for anything was candles and a bath.

What Rhys knew was that kissing her had felt like waking up.

She was just a silhouette, a dark figure against even more darkness, but even if he hadn't heard her voice, he would've recognized her, would've known that shape anywhere.

Didn't a man get to be epically romantic in a magic cave?

I figured they were all too busy cursing my name or writing really bad short stories about redheads named Brynn who ruined their lives forever.

he needed to stop standing around like a fucking numpty.

TreatstreatstreatsTREATSTREATSTREATS!” “I changed my mind,” Gwyn said, scrambling to give Purrcival more treats. “Talking cats are bad. I see that now.

The night had gotten darker now, the sky more indigo than lavender, and the moon rose over the hills, bright and cold and white. The perfect night for witching.

Goddess, we beseech you that this man shall never again darken Vivi’s door nor her vagina.

Gwyn had no doubt that whoever he was, his ancestors had absolutely once stared down the business end of a guillotine. You didn’t get cheekbones like that without oppressing some peasants.

Rhys lifted one shoulder. "Funny thing is, if you'd made maybe a pre-step that involved, oh, I don't know, giving me any sort of bloody heads-up that you were coming to town, all of this could have been avoided. You could've come in completely unbothered and lit a candle to Da's picture or whatever it is you do when you arrive in a new place, and I would not have had my delightful wife woken up by a phone call that seemed to involved the words 'high-handed' and 'complete asshole.'" He threw Wells a wink. "That's how I knew she was taking about you.

Stepping back, Vivi looked into those blue eyes. Rhys might have been The Fool, but maybe she was, too, because she realized that the image, a person walking merrily off a cliff, wasn’t necessarily about being reckless. It was about taking a leap and trusting something—someone—would catch you.

Nunca mezcles la magia con el vodka.

—¿Vas a pedirme permiso para besarme? Ahora fue él el que sonrió con todas sus ganas. —Voy a pedirte un montón de cosas más si me dejas.

No existían los recuerdos. Ni el pasado. Solo eso. Solo el presente. Solo él.

There’s no really good timing for this kind of thing, is there? Finding your person? It just kind of happens when it happens. Or so they say.

Como no vamos a saber lo complicado que es hasta que lo intentemos, no tiene mucho sentido preocuparse por ello.

Vivi tenía unas ojeras tan grandes que merecían su propio código postal

[...]entras y salir en tres minutos. -Eso ya son cuatro minutos más de los que quiero estar en esa casa.

Rhys sonrió y, como siempre, el gesto le hizo parecer más joven y tierno. Ojalá no le gustara tanto.

-Vivi, estás más resplandeciente que una lámpara de calabaza, así que creo que sé lo que estabais haciendo.

- Vivienne, lo siento, pero te dejo por la mujer que hace estas delicias. - Tiene noventa años. - Me da igual.

-¿Puedo besarte? -¿Ahora? -Estoy abierta a cualquier momento que me propongas. -Bueno, has tenido suerte, ahora mismo estoy completamente libre.

[...] le resultaba más fácil ocultar sus sentimientos, no dejar que nadie supiera qué cosas le afectaban. Vivir la vida de forma superficial, sin profundizar en ella.

think Wells is a prick ninety percent of the time, but I find I cannot toast to his failure.” He screwed up his face. “Is this what familial love feels like?

Vivi said, reaching up to twist her hair into a messy bun.

Everyone’s a witch these days,

The taste of you,” he muttered when they parted, his mouth dropping to her neck as Vivi closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “Can’t get enough of it. Never fucking well could.

Had he always found polka dots so instantly, intensely erotic?

It’s like being in a souvenir postcard,” Rhys said. “‘Greetings from Halloweentown.

Shaking her head, Vivi cleared her throat and reached for the least sexy thing she could think of, a copy of her syllabus.

Hi, you two!” she said, her voice so bright and cheery that Vivi was surprised cartoon birds didn’t appear by her head.

Personal rule,” she told him. “Never get involved with a coworker. But. Also a personal rule: Never let a good mistletoe moment pass by.

And we get to eat Mrs. Michaelson’s caramel-apple hand pies, which are so good, I think she might actually be a witch, even though Elaine swears she’s not, and it’s just all the butter she uses,

Did my first spell when I was five. I was in this tree house my dad had built for me, and I was making tea. By which I mean I was stirring dirt and water into an old teapot I’d found in the garage.

—Habría merecido la pena —dijo él, dejando de sonreír, aunque el brillo en su mirada se volvió más cálido—. Estaba loco por ti, Vivienne — confesó en voz baja. Con total sinceridad—. Completamente loco.

—Ya no sé cómo decir que esto es una mala idea —murmuró Vivienne contra sus labios. Rhys sonrió y le rozó la nariz con la suya. —Hemos cometido muchos errores —añadió él—, pero no creo que esto sea uno de ellos.

hand, “but seriously, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” “You almost ran your ex-boyfriend over with a car, and then left him lying in the literal dirt on the side of the road. It is such a big deal, you absolute queen.

He didn’t want to explain to Vivian that family didn’t necessarily mean people who cared about you. She had Elaine and Gwen. She had love and warmth and home and all the things Rhys had always hoped Simon might be but never had been.

Entonces él le sonrió y le guiñó un ojo y, a pesar de todo, de la maldición, de la vergüenza y de esas malditas calaveras de la muerte de plástico, el corazón le dio un pequeño vuelco en el pecho. Sí, está claro que estoy en el infierno.

And then Gwyn closed her eyes, held her hands out and said, “Goddess, we beseech you that this man shall never again darken Vivi’s door nor her vagina.” Vivi nearly choked on her drink, giggling even as the alcohol seared her sinuses, and flopped down on the opposite side of the circle from Gwyn. “Goddess,” Vivi said, taking another sip, “we beseech you that he never again use his dimples for evil against unsuspecting maidens.” “Nice one,” Gwyn said before adding, “Goddess, we beseech you to make sure his hair never does that thing again. You know the thing we mean.” “She totally does.” Vivi nodded. “Goddess, we beseech you to make him the sort of man who will forever think the clitoris is exactly one-third of an inch away from where it actually is.” “Diabolical, Vivi. Truly dark magic.

- Vivienne, lo siento, pero te dejo por la mujer que hace estas delicias. - Tiene noventa años. - Me da igual. [...probando tarta...] -Está bien, cásate con la señora Michaelson, pero prométeme que me invitarás a la boda e incluiréis esto dentro del menú, ¿de acuerdo?

Rhys sonrió y, como siempre, el gesto le hizo parecer más joven y tierno. Ojalá no le gustara tanto. Ojalá la Vivi de diecinueve años no lo hubiera visto de pie en aquel campo y le hubiera entregado su corazón con ambas manos. Pero las cosas no eran así. Y ella lo sabía.

Purrcival licked his chops and headbutted her hand. “Treatstreatstreats,” he began again. “I think maybe that’s all he can say?” Vivi offered. “TreatstreatstreatsTREATSTREATSTREATS!” “I changed my mind,” Gwyn said, scrambling to give Purrcival more treats. “Talking cats are bad. I see that now.

For one, it was Wales, so rain literally came with the territory, Rhys understood that, but he’d driven from London that morning through sunshine with the occasional cloud. Gorgeous blue skies, rolling green hills, the kind of day that made one want to take up painting or maybe develop some kind of poetry habit.

I like my job,” Vivi insisted, and the truth was, she did. Sure, there were the occasional Lacrosse Cheaters, but she could more than handle them, and she loved going to work on Penhaven’s campus. She loved going to the big cafeteria for lunch, loved her office with its comfy chairs. Loved sharing her own love of history with her students.

I want all of you, too.' he told her. 'The powerful witch and the woman who loves nothing better than to take the piss out of me when I deserve it. The woman who inspires loyalty in talking cats and Baby Witches and everyone she meets because her heart is the only thing more impressive than her magic. I want you, Gwyn Jones." - Wells Penhallow

Nestled in the valley, Penhaven College was a little gem of redbrick buildings and green grass, tall oak trees and neatly trimmed hedges, and Vivi loved it more than a person should probably love her workplace. But she did love it. Especially now with the first hint of fall in the air, the leaves orange, the sky purple. Penhaven was always at its best in the autumn.

A few days later, I found myself back in the cellar. But this time, I was involved in an activity way more fun than cataloging magic junk. “What happened to the promise of making out in castles?” I asked as Archer and I pulled back for a breather. I was leaning back against one of the shelves, my hands clutching Archer’s waist. Over his shoulder, there was a jar of eyeballs staring at me, and I nodded toward it. “Because, see, things like that? Kind of a mood killer.” He glanced at the jar and then turned back to me, waggling his eyebrows. “Really? I find it has the opposite effect.” Giggling, I elbowed him in the stomach and pushed myself off the shelf. “You’re sick.” He smiled and ducked his head to kiss me again, but I skirted around him. “Come on, Cross, we came down here for a reason, and it wasn’t fooling around.” Smirking, Archer folded his arms over his chest. “May not have been your reason, but-“ I cut him off. “No. Don’t distract me with your sexy talk. We need to search this place, and that spell Elodie did will only last so long.” Elodie had swooped into my body at the cellar door, doing a quick spell to unlock it. She hadn’t even looked at Archer, much less said anything. And the second the lock clicked open, she’d vanished. The smirk disappeared from Archer’s face, and he actually looked kind of sullen. “Are you honestly that bummed about not hooking up right now?” I teased. But he was deadly serious when he shook his head and said, “It’s not that. It’s Elodie.” “What about her?” Archer rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Mercer. Maybe it’s that I’m not completely crazy about the ghost of my ex-girlfriend occasionally inhabiting the body of my current girlfriend.” I backed up another step and ran into another shelf. Something fell off and thunked against the dirt floor. “Whoa, I’m your girlfriend now?” Archer shrugged. “We’ve tried to kill each other, fought ghouls, and kissed a lot. I’m pretty sure we’re married in some cultures.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Whatever. Look, the fact of the matter is, I don’t have any magic right now. Elodie does. If her occasionally using me as her puppet means that I have powers again, then I’m fine with it. And you should be, too. My body, my ghost, and all that.

Inclinó la cabeza, acercándose a ella. ¡Dios! Olía tan bien... A algo dulce. Vainilla, quizá. Iba a probar cada centímetro de ella hasta dar con la procedencia de ese aroma. Vivienne cerró los ojos y dejó escapar un tembloroso suspiro. Y entonces se tensó, puso los brazos rígidos y lo empujó con tanta fuerza que llegó a tambalearse un poco. —¿De verdad me has traído a una cueva mágica sexual? —preguntó entre dientes.

As they made their way there, he had to admit that Graves Glen was a pretty place. The sun was setting behind the low mountains that surrounded the town, turning the sky a deep purple. The lights strung between the streetlamps twinkled, and in every store window, there was some charming display—a pile of pumpkins, cardboard witches on broomsticks, more fairy lights. “It’s like being in a souvenir postcard,” Rhys said. “‘Greetings from Halloweentown.

Confiaba en Rhys con todo su corazón. El imprudente y voluble Rhys, que iba por la vida despreocupado, pero que la amaba y se lo había demostrado una y otra vez. El Loco y la Estrella, tal y como Gwyn los había pintado en sus cartas. Saltando por los acantilados y resplandeciendo de forma constante, dos opuestos que no podían vivir el uno sin el otro. Y que tampoco tenían por qué hacerlo. Y eso, reconoció Vivi mientras Rhys la besaba, podría ser lo más maravilloso de todo.

—¡Jesús! Esto ha sido pan comido —murmuró en cuanto estuvieron en el pasillo. Luego miró las distintas puertas de madera—. ¿Sabes? Pensaba que íbamos a tardar mucho más, así que ahora nos sobra tiempo. Si quieres... —No. —Vivi le dio un golpe en el pecho—. No vamos a pedir ninguna habitación. Vamos a llevar esto directamente a la tía Elaine. Rhys soltó un sonoro suspiro, la agarró de la cara con una mano y bajó la cabeza para darle un beso en la boca. —Me encanta y odio cuando te muestras sensata, Vivienne.

He wondered if he should share with her his suspicions about Morgan, but Gwyn and Morgan were clearly old friends. She’d probably just roll her eyes at him again and tell him he was being an idiot. And it was very possible that he was, but an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure. "Wells frowned and made a mental note never to actually say that out loud in front of her.

Instead, Gwyn gestured around them and said, “Do you think we’re just picking up on bad vibes from this stuff? Because the vibes in here are definitely bad. Vibe check thoroughly failed.” “I don’t really know what that means,” Wells said slowly, “but I think I get the gist, and yes, that’s definitely possible.

So Glinda was telling us how you’re trying to find out about someone getting kicked out of Penhaven, and I was telling her that I dated this girl who works in the records department. Her name was Sara, and she was really nice, but she was also a Pisces, and I’m a Leo, so—” “You can skip that bit,” Gwyn told her, laying a hand on her arm, “much as it did enhance the original story.

his heart beat a steady tattoo under her palms.

As soon as Elaine opened the door, the little furry bastard looked up at Rhys and very succinctly said, “Dickbag.

As soon as Elaine opened the door, the little furry bastard looked up at Rhys and very succinctly said, “Dickbag.” “I defended you the other night, mate,” Rhys said, shaking a finger at Sir Purrcival. “Don’t make me regret it.

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Maybe she and Gwyn could do face masks or something. Have another drink or five. Listen to Taylor Swift.

Don’t seek to question my grudge-holding ways, Rhys. I’m a Taurus.

filling the air with the smell of Rhys’s cologne,

Bowen,” she said, one cheek dimpling, “please trust me when I say soft sheets and chivalry are the last things on my mind right now. I don’t want that. I’ve had that. What I want is you. Wild you. Rough you. All of you.

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The best cure for anything was candles and a bath

Vivi, if we could actually place curses on people, that bitch who always gives me whole milk when I ask for soy at Coffee Cauldron would be a dead woman by now,” Gwyn said,

Simon looked down, flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his jacket, and Rhys wondered

This is extremely metal of us,” Gwyn observed, then glanced down at herself. “Probably would be more metal if I weren’t wearing my pumpkin jammies, but what can you do?

to Elaine. “Is that why it’s my fault?” Hands on her hips, Gwyn faced off with Rhys.

Smoke still coiled about the candle. Parker was clutching, and Sam whispered, "I don't know what a newt is. It's a lizard, right? I really don't want to be a lizard.

The Full Potter,” he repeated. “Not finding out you’re a witch until you’re older, not growing up with it. ‘Yer a witch, Vivi,’ that sort of thing.

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Goddess, we beseech you to make him the sort of man who will forever think the clitoris is exactly one-third of an inch away from where it actually is.