Page 4 of The Fate Factor

“Do you know what that means?” It’s clear from his face and the way he’s gone mute that he does. My pulse takes off in a sprint.

Kate is looking at me now, concern all over her face. It’s the right reaction. I’m acting unhinged, giving this man career advice based on whispers in my drunken brain.

That has to be what’s happening. It’s the Jäger. What is it they say? Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Maybe there’s more to that than just the likelihood of vomiting. Maybe it makes you say crazy things to people you should have just walked away from.

“You know what? This was a bad idea,” I say, reaching for the candle to blow it out. Whatever I’ve tapped into, I want it gone.

“Wait.” Jamie wraps his fingers around my wrist, and before I can extinguish the flame, a picture flashes so vividly in my head that for a moment I think I’ve been dreaming this whole time and I’m just now waking up.

It’s the blonde he’s here with, sprawled out in something scant and lacy and definitely not meant for my eyes.

I pull in a startled breath and my nostrils fill with the scent of perfume and sex. It’s so strong, my cheeks burn in second-hand embarrassment.

Jamie’s fingers still circle my wrist and I yank it back, gaping at him. My instant reaction is to warn him to keep his brain PG while we’re doing this, but what the hell does that mean? That’s not even how this works.

I mean, it doesn’t work, because it’s a game, but the game is to seethe future, not read someone’s horny thoughts.

God, I hope Nana couldn’t read my teenage mind all of the times she did this with me and Kate.

I’m deep in that mortifying thought when a wave of emotion hits me square in the chest. But it’s not a vague inkling like before. This time my heart feels like it’s cracking down the middle. I have no idea what I’m feeling but it’s so strong, tears come to my eyes.

And then I see it, playing somewhere in my brain like a movie I didn’t buy a ticket for. The blonde again, her head tipped back in pleasure, and there’s a new problem. It’s very clearly not Jamie she’s under.

What the hell is happening?

I crush my palms into my eyes, trying to rub away the sight, but it doesn’t work. It’s there every time I blink, and I don’t know how to make it stop. “Shit.”

“Noel,” Kate says at the same time Jamie asks, “What is it?”

Colin sits up straighter, and I pretend to scratch my forehead, discreetly pointing over Jamie’s shoulder with my pinky. “Um, the woman you’re here with. She’s your girlfriend?”

Jamie turns to look at her and the wariness on his face flashes briefly to the kind of smile any woman would be happy to have pointed at her. My stomach descends another floor. “That’s Becca.” He lowers his voice. “I’m thinking about proposing. Thought maybe you could tell me how it’s going to go.”

Oh. Guess I misread the flirty eye thing from before. Foolish, Noel.

That’s the least of my problems, though, considering what I just saw. This game isn’t fun anymore. Nana’s supposed fortune-telling was basic and vague. If you wanted to believe, you could find away. This is really freaking detailed, and I have no idea where it’s coming from.

What I do know is I don’t want any part of it.

My hands are shaking, stomach sour. Jamie can tell I’m stalling, and whatever hopeful awe he had quickly slides off his face. “Shit,” he mutters.

“I think we should stop.” I get to my feet and so does Jamie.

Colin stands too, saying something to Kate, and tension ratchets in my chest. The last thing I want is to be the reason for a scene. My mother makes scenes. I avoid them.

It’s obvious Jamie doesn’t share that inclination, though. He doesn’t even bother to lower his voice. “Noel, wait. Just… tell me.”

Oh, damn it. I want to ignore it, tell him I haven’t seen anything at all because I’d like to believe that myself, but I can’t. Not knowing what I know about the unfairness of a thing like this. The way love can absolutely ruin a person when it implodes.

“She’s um… Becca, she’s um.” God, how do I explain this? “I’m sorry. I think maybe there’s something she’s not telling you.” I shove my thumbnail between my teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Holy shit.” He pushes a hand beneath his hat, rubbing his head.

I need to get out of here. This is too much. I reach for my coat.

“Noel,” he says, rounding the table so we’re face to face. “Hold on, just… Please.”

I stop, my heart in my throat. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him. What if I’m wrong because this is insane?

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