“I don’t suppose you’re majoring in comparative religion,” Jack said, leading me toward his sofa. Mercifully, it was angled away from the bed, so I could look up at him.
“Poli sci,” I said. I tucked myself into the corner of the sofa, fingers dug into the cushions so I wouldn’t reach for him.
“Pity.” Jack sat on the other side of the sofa, giving me space. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or move closer. My heart was pounding, a hot rush under my skin that settled between my legs until I wanted scream. “Tell me, then: have you ever heard the name Ostara?”
It sounded familiar, and I wracked my brain for the answer. “That’s…that’s where we get Easter from, right?”
“Indeed it is.”
“So you’re telling me I’m the Easter bunny?” I tried to joke.
He smiled, one of his hands moving to cover mine, and my brain stalled for a second before making the connection. “O’Hare…are you telling me you’re the Easter bunny?”