Something wasn’t right. It was as if his mind was elsewhere. The intimacy I’d experienced after saving him earlier was gone, almost as if it had never existed. But that might’ve been because he was bored at a child’s birthday party.
I caught him staring at me a couple of times before he turned away. I apologized for the family’s interrogation, and he brushed it off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just tired. Unpacking plus a new town and a new life is challenging.”
He excused himself early, said his thank-yous and goodbyes, and left.
“Something’s wrong.” Dad put a hand on my shoulder.
“You think?”
SEVEN
PAX
I’d been staring at my phone for twenty minutes, trying to figure out what to say.
I saw your tattoo and it’s identical to mine. Weird, right?
Nah, that was too casual.
We need to talk about the blistering flames on our shoulders.
Nope, not that.
Do you believe in fate?
I didn’t, but Aunt June had. While I’d always been skeptical, living in this house, touching the surfaces she’d run her hands over for years, and breathing in the air that she had, I was wondering if she’d been onto something.
I’d spent the two days since the birthday party researching the meaning of matching tattoos and how likely it was that two strangers had the same tattoo. I even typed in “soulmate marks” which was kinda bonkers. I hardly knew Dray, and what was a soulmate anyway? Did they fall in love or did the universe push them together? Was there no choice and it was all pre-determined?
But nothing explained how my skin under the tattoo reacted when Dray was near. It was as though I’d plugged myself into an electrical outlet, and I was surprised I didn’t light up. How I wished my aunt were here because she’d put it into perspective and it’d make sense.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Dray. He was in my head, and I longed for him to be in my mouth, pants, and hole.
My aunt’s words repeated in my head.There are no coincidences.
Great. “Show me what I’m missing,” I yelled at the ceiling as I hoped Aunt June was looking down on me. If she was, she was busy—probably reading someone’s palm—because I had no answers.
My tummy was in knots, and my clammy palms made it difficult to type. I read and reread the message. If I chickened out, I could pretend I wanted to talk about the repairs. That was a neutral topic that didn’t involve tattoos or fate.
Can we meet? I need to talk to you about something. Café at 2?
He was going to think I was unhappy with his work or I’d been rethinking the cost and was reneging on the payments. That was why I’d chosen a neutral location. There’d be people in the café so I couldn’t rip my jacket off and demand answers. Or yell and tug at fistfuls of hair.
Sure. See you there.
He didn’t ask why which was good, and I had two hours to figure out what to say.
The café was overlywarm when I walked in. Arthur was behind the counter wearing a light sweater. He rubbed his handstogether, saying the outside temperature had taken a nosedive. How did he live here in winter instead of somewhere further south?
“The usual, Pax?
“Just coffee, and I’ll get the food to go.”
I’d forgotten how many times I’d been here since I’d arrived, and now I had a café usual. This small town was getting used to me.
I took a table by the window away from her customers who were finishing their lunch and brushed my palms on my jeans. Arthur’s internal body temperature was creating a problem. I was supposed to appear nonchalant, not a sweaty mess.
Dray walked in right on time, and my heart performed some complicated maneuver that wasn’t in any medical textbook. He waved and ordered coffee before sliding into the seat opposite me.
