“I dunno…” I squint, trying to figure it out. “He looks kinda… nervous?”
“Exactly. Look at his hands.”
The guy’s hands are in his pockets, but I can see the way his fingers twitch, moving restlessly even though they’re hidden.
“When people are nervous, their hands usually give them away,” Ace confides. “They fidget, they touch their face or their neck. It’s like they’re trying to comfort themselves without even realizing it.”
“Okay, so he’s nervous. Why?”
“Could be a lot of things. Look at where he’s standing. He’s not in line, but he’s close to it. Like he’s thinking about getting food but can’t quite make himself do it. Maybe he’s waiting for someone. Or maybe he’s indecisive.”
I glance back down at the guy, noticing his eyes flick toward the food truck, then away again. I have no idea what that’s supposed to tell me.
“Reading people is all about noticing the little things,” Ace says softly, almost as if he’s sharing a secret. “The way they move, where they look, how they hold themselves. Confidence is in the shoulders. When someone’s sure of themselves, they stand tall. When someone’s nervous, they shrink down, make themselves smaller. It’s all right there if you know where to look.” I scratch my leg, taking it all in. In a way, it makes sense. “People are always giving themselves away whether they know it or not.”
“I’d love to read people like you can.” I sigh, making Ace chuckle.
“You’re already good at it, you know.” His ice-blue eyes meet mine. “You need to trust yourself more. Trust what you see.”
I look back at the crowd, watching the guy by the food truck. Ace is right. His shoulders are hunched, his gaze uncertain. He’s waiting for something or someone.
“He’s waiting for someone he’s in love with.”
“How can you tell?” I ask, not taking my eyes away from the stranger.
“See the way he keeps looking around but not moving? His hands aren’t nervous. They’re restless, like he can’t wait. And his shoulders, they’re tense, but there’s hope there. Like he’s bracing for something or someone.”
The guy’s fidgeting intensifies then, and I notice his eyes keep darting around as if scanning for a familiar face. “When you’re waiting for someone you love, everything in you is focused on finally seeing them again. You’re restless, and your heart races, but it’s all anticipation. Because when they finally show up, you know it’ll change everything. You can’t contain that kind of excitement.”
My heart squeezes as I glance at Ace, wondering how much of this he’s speaking from experience. Before I can respond, Ace sighs, almost like he’s relieved. “There she is.”
I follow his gaze as a woman steps into the glow of the food truck. When her eyes land on the guy, his whole body shifts, his shoulders relax, his hands come out of his pockets, and a smile forms on his lips. She walks toward him, and the moment they meet, you can see the quiet, unmistakable connection between them.
Ace leans back, a satisfied look on his face. “Told you.”
I shake my head in wonder, still watching the couple as they greet each other, the nervous energy between them melting away the longer they speak. “Okay, that was impressive.”
“You’ll get the hang of it. Just gotta trust what you see. Two seconds. That’s all it takes to read someone. To see what they’re hiding.”
I glance at him with a smile. “Two seconds, huh?”
“Two seconds, Trouble.” His eyes sparkle as he regards me. “And a little bit of magic.” He holds up the ace of hearts again, and with a snap, the card changes once more, back to the seven of spades.
Then he leans in, kissing me silly.
EIGHTEEN
The phone screen glows in my hand, my thumb hovering over it as I wait for Koen’s update. I lean back against the headboard with Jinx curled up at my side, her green eyes half-closed as I absentmindedly stroke her fur. The room is quiet, but my nerves aren’t. Every second feels longer than it is, time stretching like taffy while I wait for updates.
“She’s not moving.” Koen’s voice crackles through my earbuds, distorted by the background noise of the Strip, the crowd’s chatter, the distant roar of traffic, and the occasional burst of laughter. “She’s just… standing there, like she’s daydreaming.”
I frown, my fingers tapping idly against the back of my phone.
What the hell is she doing?
“You think she’s scared to cozy up to Belmont?” I ask, catching myself running my palm up and down my thigh, a nervous habit I’m far too familiar with.
“No, it literally looks like she’s deep in thought. Maybe she’s trying to figure out how to do this.”
