He groans again, mutters curses under his breath, but finally releases me. “Fine. But you’re not getting rid of me. You’re obligated to see me later. I’ll be there in twenty,” he yells at his phone before he finally hangs up on whoever is on the other end.
I grin, kissing the corner of his mouth. “No obligations required. Iwantto see my boyfriend.”
It’s his favorite thing ever, the title. I can see it in the way his whole body lights up, like I just handed him the sun. He cups my face, kisses me once more, softer this time, almost reverent.
And then, finally, he tears himself away, stepping back toward his bedroom to get changed.
“See you later,” I say as I bite my lower lip and take one step back toward his door.
“You’re not walking out likethat,” he barks, shaking his head. I look down at myself and remember I’m only wearing a bra. Lucky disappears into his room for five seconds and reemerges with a white t-shirt. I tug it down over my head, grinning at the way it drowns me. I tuck it into the front of my pants, and it actually kind of works.
“Better,” Lucky says.
“Thanks,” I say with a grin as I look up at him. He hands me the keys to my truck and presses a kiss to my lips.
“See you later, girlfriend,” he says with a stupidly happy smile.
“Later, boyfriend,” I reply with a tease as I wink at him. He just about melts into the floor.
I step out of his door, and feel my entire body blush as I walk into the elevator.
My first readingof the day is already waiting outside my shop by the time I get there. I apologize profusely, and thankfully, she’s a regular who knows this isn’t normal for me. I let her in, flip on the lights, find a few candles to light, and very, very quickly, throw the velvet tablecloth over my oak table, covering the bloodstains before she can notice them.
I slip right into the rhythm—shuffling cards, laying spreads, letting strangers bleed tears and questions all over my table.
But something feels different.
Usually, I carry my weight like armor. But today? I feel… lighter. Like last night cracked open a window in me, and I’m not choking on stale air anymore.
Between clients, I set my phone up and record a quick TikTok. Just me, shuffling my deck under a filter that makes everything hazy-gold. Onscreen text:Love doesn’t fix you. But it reminds you you’re not broken.It’s cheesy as hell, but whatever. I hit post before I can overthink it.
My phone buzzes almost immediately. But it isn’t a comment or a like.
Iris:
You didn’t come home last night. You okay?
I smirk, typing back:
I’m great. I’ll explain later.
Two seconds later, my other sister checks in.
Opal:
Willow Vale not coming home? This doesn’t happen?!?! Must be loovvveeeee!
I roll my eyes, thumb flying:
Calm down. It was one night.
Opal responds with fifteen heart emojis and a GIF of a rabbit eating lettuce, whatever the hell that means.
The hours slip by in a blur of cards and clients. But thankfully, it isn’t a fully packed day. I wrap up my last readingby five o’clock. It’s a breath of relief when it’s finally over, the shop is quiet, the candles burned low. I blow them out one by one, pack up my bag, and lock the door behind me.
As I step into the night air, I grin wickedly.
Because I have a plan for tonight.
