G
, .”
Theo looks over at me, his face shadowed as we cross the dark parking lot, hands clasped. “Request for you to say that later tonight, in exactly that same tone of voice.”
I pull out of his hold, turning so that I’m walking backwards ahead of him. “I don’t take requests. You’re going to have to make me.”
His eyes sweep down my body; I’m wearing the Vegas outfit since I have nothing else. He watched me all through dinner like it was the first time I’d worn it.
We get to the van, and Theo backs me against it until there’s a millimeter of space between us. If I breathed, we’d be touching. I don’t, just to watch his eyes darken.
“Shepard,” he says in that velvet voice. It brushes over me the way his palm does, stroking up my neck until his hand is bracketing my jaw. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been making you nearly this entire trip.”
You can make me for a lot longer than that. I raise an eyebrow. “You think so?”
“You do it right in my ear, so yeah.” His mouth pulls up into a smirk. “I know so.”
“Then we’d better go so you can get on it.”
“I can’t wait to get on it.” He reaches behind me for the door handle. But instead of moving us so he can open it, he leans down to brush his mouth
against mine, then parts his lips, inviting me to do the same. I taste the wine we had on his tongue, the lemon tart we shared. It was Theo in dessert form: sweet with a bite.
It’s been more than a year since I’ve been on a date, and none have ever felt like this—like it’s the start of something I’m desperate to name but can’t, whether it’s too soon or because we don’t have enough time left. As Theo kisses me with the moon peeking down at us, I know he feels it, too. It’s in the pace of his mouth moving over mine, the way he leans into me like he knows I can handle the weight of us, the way his hand tightens in my hair. It makes my kiss turn desperate.
Nearby, a car alarm chirps politely. Theo pulls back first, breathless, his lips glossy from me.
“Let’s go home,” he says, his voice barely a rumble.
“Yeah,” I say, wishing home meant somewhere less temporary.
But then my gaze snags on a neon sign in a storefront window across the lot. The PSYCHIC/TAROT sign blinks.
It’s nearly ten, so it stands out. Maybe that’s why I straighten, pressing my hands against Theo’s chest to move him out of the way. Everything else around the storefront is dark, but a soft, warm light leaks out of the gauzy curtains, painted pink by the neon in front of it.
Theo’s arm winds around my waist. “What shiny thing just caught your attention?”
“Psychic.” I blink away from the sign and up into Theo’s face, awash in skepticism. “Let’s go see.”
“You want to go see a psychic right now?” he repeats, but I’m already walking, my sandals clicking against the pocked asphalt. He mutters, “Oh, Jesus,” but his footsteps aren’t far behind me.
It’s as if there are hands pushing at my shoulders, curling around my hand as it covers the chipped gold door handle. Before Gram died, I never thought of myself as spiritual, but since I lost her, I’ve been searching for ways to find her again, to hold on. Right now, I know I need to be here.
A bell jingles softly when I open the door. I expect to get hit with a face full of incense, but instead it smells vaguely of jasmine, like the bushes
Gram had planted in her front yard. The space is small but clean, nothing like I imagined. One wall is an abstract mural of a desert landscape, an eye hovering in the middle of it, the rest a soothing sage. There’s a long, beautiful pine table in the middle of the room with an iMac, a deck of cards, several candles, and a shit ton of crystals and rocks. A deep green velvet chair sits on one side, two orange tweed chairs on the other.
“Hello?” I call tentatively.
Theo stops just behind me, his breath stirring my hair as he sighs. “Shepard, what the hell.”
A woman pushes through a set of yarn-woven curtains separating the front room from the back. Like the shop itself, she paints a surprising picture. She’s young, maybe a few years older than us, with long, curly brown hair. Her skin is damn near poreless, cheekbones high, with the most arresting green eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s wearing funky patchwork jeans, a cropped lavender sweater, and pink platform sneakers. She looks like someone Sadie and I would see at a bar and strategize about making our friend.
“Hey, folks, super sorry, but I—” She stops, taking us in, and puts a hand to her chest, stunned. “Wow, okay, I was going to say I’m by appointment only and I’m booked three months out, but . . .” Her eyes drift over us, sharp and far away simultaneously. She laughs. “Yeah. Wow, come on in.”
Theo lets out a quiet snort, then a grunt when I dig my elbow into his side. “I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re really not available. We were having dinner across the way, and I saw your sign.”
“I got distracted and forgot to turn it off, but now I’m feeling like that was the universe doing its thing.” She waves her hand, the thick gold cuff on her wrist wobbling with enthusiasm. “Seriously, come in, come in. I’m Flor, by the way.”
“I’m Noelle and this is Theo.”
“Hi.” His tone broadcasts this wasn’t his idea, but he pushes at my hips, following me into the room. We sit, and he scoots closer immediately,
closing the three feet of space between us. When he catches me watching him, he raises his eyebrows like what?
“Close enough?” I murmur.
“Better view from here,” he says, tapping the desk, but his eyes stay locked on mine, and his dimple flashes.
A shuffling sound snaps me out of my trance. I look over to find Flor seated in the green velvet chair, a deck of tarot cards in her hands and a wide grin on her face. “I love this for me. Can I get your birthdays, place of birth, and time of birth, if you have it?”
I rattle off my information, and she writes it down, nodding. “Born at 12:12 a.m., got it. A midnight baby, cool.”
“That’s the only reason I remember, honestly.”
“What about you, my skeptical friend?” Flor asks, appraising Theo.
He tells her, then winks at me. “And I was born at midnight, on the dot.” I roll my eyes. “Of course you were.”
Theo reaches over to take my hand while Flor works on her computer. She hums, her attention drifting toward us sometimes, other times off into space.
Finally, she says, “Okay. In the interest of transparency, I have plans in a bit, so I can’t give you an intense reading, but I’d love to do a quick session for both of you. You down?”
“How much is this going to cost?” Theo asks.
She spreads her hands in front of her. “I’m doing this for my own curiosity, friend. You can tip if it resonates, but this reading is selfish.”
I lean forward. “Selfish how?”
“The energy between you two is pretty intense. It feels old.” “Old?” Theo echoes, insulted.
Flor laughs. “Old, like multigenerational. Like lots of forces and people worked to get you together. You’re very, very connected, and that’s rad.”
Theo catches my eye. It’s obvious he’s struggling to believe this, though a faint blush spreads across his cheeks.
But her phrasing tickles my curiosity. I’m determined to leave myself open to her message, whatever it is. When she says multigenerational, does
she mean Gram and Paul?
I’m not so high on myself that I presume to know everything about how the world works. It’s true that I don’t know what after death looks like, but I do feel Gram sometimes, in the stars above me at night. Right now in this room. What if Flor can feel that, too? What if she feels all of the things that had to happen to get us here?
“You go first,” Theo says to me, his fingers lacing tighter through mine. I turn to Flor, my heart beating heavily. “Okay.”
She shuffles the tarot deck. A card falls out almost immediately, and she picks it up, humming again. As more cards join the first on the table, varying emotions cross over her face like a passing storm.
“Mmm.” She nods, as if someone’s just whispered in her ear. “Got it.”
Theo’s gaze is hot on my cheek, but I focus on Flor. There’s an energy building between us, a vibration in my chest. Fingertips against my neck.
Her eyes meet mine, and it’s like a lightning strike into the center of me. “It’s been a lot, huh?”
My throat tightens so quickly I can only let out a choked noise. Beside me, Theo angles his body toward mine, his knee pressing up against my leg. “You’ve had these massive expectations for a very long time, and they haven’t been met. It’s worn you down to the point that you swung the pendulum all the way to the other side. You went from all the expectations to none.” Flor looks down at the cards, tapping one, and I lean in. The card is a beautiful swirl of green, white, black, and yellow, with a skeleton that hangs over the word DEATH. My heart drops. “You had guidance, though, someone in your life who showed up for you when you couldn’t show up for yourself, and that kept you afloat in a space that wouldn’t have been
sustainable otherwise.”
I nod, barely, playing with Theo’s fingers anxiously.
Flor leans forward. “That guidance isn’t with you anymore, right?”
“Right,” I whisper as goosebumps bloom on my skin. That’s not a coincidence, it can’t be. “It was my grandma. She died six months ago.”
“Yeah, so, most times the death card means transformation, but sometimes it can mean earthly death,” she says. “In your case, and
especially with the other cards I pulled, I think it’s both. Your grandma’s death cracked your world down the middle. It put you in the shadows that were lurking around the corner anyway. A soulmate doesn’t have to be romantic and can serve a very specific need in your life. You can have one your whole life or many.” At this, her eyes flicker to Theo, like she’s making sure he’s listening, before landing back on me. “She was one of yours. She was rooted in every aspect of your life, so when she died, those roots pulled up and left everything a fucking mess. I don’t blame you for retreating, friend. It’s heavy.”
I brush at my suddenly wet cheeks, flushing with embarrassment.
“Maybe—” Theo starts to say, but I shake my head, my eyes locked with Flor’s.
“Keep going.”
“Here’s where it gets a little magical,” Flor says with a wink. “Like I said, the death card also means transformation, and I pulled the wheel of fortune card, too. You’re in the middle of all this. It’s an intense time of change for you. Everything feels upside down, but that’s just your perspective shifting. You’re seeing glimpses of the way things could be, aren’t you?”
It comes in snapshots: The beginning of this trip to now, my camera in my hands, Gram’s letters. Paul and his cardigans, his kind smile and even kinder words. Theo and his X-ray eyes. The moments I’ve captured on film and video. That email from the Tahoe resort. Home. Theo’s house and the spaces I could fill—his kitchen for dinner, his bed some nights.
That last visual sinks its claws in. “I do. But I question if it’s real.”
Flor places her hands over the cards, as if absorbing their energy. “That’s normal. You’re in build mode, and that feels scary. But give yourself credit for your bravery. That’s what’s going to carry you through. You think you’ve given up, but you haven’t. You’re just resting before you build the rest.”
Sometimes hope hurts when it grows too quickly. Right now, it’s so big inside my body I want to scream. Instead, I let out a breath. “Thank you.”
Flor gives me a warm, guileless smile, like she didn’t just strip me down to my bones in front of the man who’s stripped me nearly that far.
“All right, now it’s Stern and Silent’s turn.” Flor sweeps my cards up and starts her shuffle over again.
Theo leans over, whispering, “You okay?” I nod. “It’s just intense. You’ll see.”
He makes a sound in his throat, full of doubt, but then Flor murmurs, “Wow,” and his penetrating gaze darts to her.
“What?” he asks, edgy.
Flor inspects the spread, her eyebrows arched high. “Well, it looks like your world is crashing down around you.” She pins him with neon eyes, placing her fingers over two cards. “Does that resonate?”
She says it like she already knows it does. It’s telling when Theo doesn’t respond.
Her appraisal is brief but keen, and she holds up the card. It’s a stone tower, aflame, with people falling out of it. “This card means crisis and transformation. Something’s happening or happened that’s shaken the foundation of everything you know. I also pulled the ten of swords—” She pushes it across the table, the corner catching in a wood grain. The pop it makes sounds like thunder against Theo’s silence. “These swords have found their target. Could be you, could be a relationship. There’s a sense of betrayal, right?”
“Did I get the two worst cards because I don’t believe in this or what?” Theo asks, but his voice is unsteady.
“They’re not the worst cards,” Flor argues. “I mean, listen, does anyone want these cards, especially together? Knee-jerk response would be no. But this is destroying what no longer serves you so you can come back stronger, in a different way. You’re preparing for a transformation.”
Theo releases my hand, pointing between the two of us. “How can we both be transforming?”
Flor lifts a shoulder. “We’re all constantly transforming, sometimes in little ways and sometimes in big ones. It’s possible the universe wanted you together while you went through this. I can’t say for sure.”
My gaze drifts over to the mural, to the painted eye that’s been watching us from the start, and a shiver works down my spine. I turn back to Theo, whose hands are now laced between his spread knees. His brows are drawn tight, but otherwise I can’t read his expression, and I wonder if any of this makes sense to him. Is it about his relationship with his dad? About his job? Are the cards saying he should give in to what Anton and Matias want? Where To Next’s uncertain future clearly hurts him, but maybe the transformation is literal—the company will shift, and his growth will be tied to that.
It sounds like a good thing, but Theo’s frown deepens.
“My point is, this is going to happen no matter what. It’s happening.” Flor leans forward on her elbows, the tower card falling to the ground, and presses a long fuchsia nail on the table in front of him. “The cards are inviting you to let it go and let something new and better grow. You’ve been placed with resources in your life that will help you move on, but you have to allow that resource to help you.”
There’s a long, drawn-out silence. Finally, Theo clears his throat. “Got
it.”
I place my hand on his thigh, palm up, but he doesn’t take it, so I curl
my hand over his leg instead, wanting to comfort him somehow even if he won’t grab hold of it himself. There’s an invisible wall between us. Whatever this means to him, he’s processing it. Alone.
Flor crosses her arms, her expression kind. “I hope this helped.”
“So much.” Part of me wishes I hadn’t pushed so hard, though. The light, sexy mood Theo and I built over dinner is gone, and I don’t know if I can get it back. “Thank you for taking the time to do this.”
“Totally selfish on my part. That connection, whew.” Flor fans her face. “Nearly blew me over when you walked in.”
I laugh uncomfortably, digging in my purse for cash so I don’t have to look at Theo. It’s one thing to feel the intense connection. It’s another thing for a total stranger to feel it and make it a thing.
When I find what I’m looking for, I stand and extend the money toward Flor. “We won’t keep you; I know you said you had plans.”
Theo pushes my hand away, placing two hundred-dollar bills on the table. “Thanks for your time,” he says woodenly, his eyes lingering on the tarot cards before drifting down to the one on the floor.
He turns and leaves, his shoulders coiled.
I turn to Flor, hesitating. “I’m sorry, he’s just—”
There’s no good way to end that sentence. I don’t know what he is.
Skeptical, so he wants to get out of there? Shaken, so he has to leave?
She waves me off. “I get it all the time. It’s hard for people to hear what needs to be done, especially when it hurts.”
My hand is on the doorknob when Flor says, “By the way, when I said he had a resource to help him move on?” Our eyes meet and she smiles. “I meant you.”
