Page 11 of Flirty Fall Fling

My heart begins to thump. “Maybe in another life, but not this one.”

Our eyes lock for another second, and then he’s pushing through the beads that separate the back from the front.

Seconds later, the bell over the door rings, telling me he’s gone.

I let out a breath and move to the front, where Josie is restocking crystal necklaces.

She turns toward me. “How’d it go?”

“Just another one of those overly attractive douchey dudes who treats me like I’m a party favor. Is everything going okay up here?”

“Yep, it’s perfect.”

“If you need me, I’ll be cleaning and resetting the private reading table. Let me know if it gets too busy up here,” I say with a smile just as a group of ladies enters with bright smiles.

“I got it,” Josie says, waving me away and greeting them.

After I blow out the candles, my own cup is still face down on the saucer, so I turn it back over.

The grounds have run down the sides, and I read my cup like I’d read a stranger’s. I almost feel like my aunt is standing at my shoulder, telling me to stop overthinking.

My cup also has a road, near the rim, except it doesn’t drift away; it runs toward me, up a mountain—no, a volcano. There’s a wall with a rope, like it’s set up for me to climb. I turn the cup clockwise, and at the bottom is the same symbol that was in Jamie’s cup … two hearts interlocked.

I set the cup down next to his and glance inside both. My head is woozy, and I place both palms on the table.

“Impossible,” I whisper.

“You okay? See a ghost?” Josie asks, nearly scaring me out of my skin. “Do we have any more amethyst on chains?”

“Oh, check in the jewelry locker. I think I saw some overstock at the bottom.”

“Great, thanks!”

She walks away, and I grab my phone, taking a photo of the grounds at the bottom of the cup for reference.

I lied to Jamie about his love life when I shouldn’t have.

“I don’t accept that reading as my own,” I say out loud, speaking it into existence. “Love like that only leads to heartbreak. Especially when someone isn’t ready.”

I reach to clear the cups, and the mood ring on my pointer finger stops me. It’s the violet Flora called the color of love. That purple only shows up once the body underneath stops bracing.

I work it off my finger and push it into my pocket, where no one can see it, not even me.

4

JAMIE

ONE WEEK LATER

Once again, I’m up before the sun clears the peaks. Just like yesterday and every day before that.

For thirteen days, I’ve watched the valley transform from gray to red and gold through a wall of glass. This view of the changing leaves is the main selling point for living on this side of the mountain. It’s gorgeous and meant to be shared with someone. Colorado has never been my state of choice, even though Patterson is obsessed. I’m hoping my brother is right, and I’ll find myself in the mountain air. If not, being here for the next month and a half will be my personal hell.

I go downstairs and push a button on the espresso machine to brew a double shot. I add a splash of milk and take my time drinking it, contemplating how I went from having the time of my life over the summer to now hiding out like a fugitive in the fall. Escaping to Pine Haven was promised to be uneventful, and it’s stayed true to that. It’s a slow life here. No one is in a hurry to get anywhere or do anything. For someone who is constantly on the go and hasn’t slowed down in … well, fucking ever, it’s a difficult transition.

Even though Patterson and I are similar, we aren’t exactly the same. He prefers to be alone, and I prefer to be the life of the party. Being forced into a shell is a punishment. Maybe that’s the point?

I finish my espresso and catch myself turning the glass and looking at the bottom like it’ll show my future. The leftover crema tells me nothing. I rinse the glass and make a list of things I’m not thinking about today. Blaire Witch goes at the very fucking top.