Page 57 of The Fate Factor

God, I forgot how unnerving these things are. Even more reason why I shouldn’t be playing with this. Colin said it wouldn’t want to hurt me, well, he’s never had his head possessed.

I step back, and Jamie just watches, his hands flexing like he’s afraid to touch me again. “Please tell me what’s wrong,” he says, and his voice doesn’t crack, but it’s not steady either. Everything about this is unsteady.

“I’m just not feeling very adventurous anymore.”

The muscles in his face fall, then quickly struggle for a smile. “Right,” he says.

“I’m sorry.”

Jamie turns to get his clothes. “Don’t worry about it, Noe. This wasn’t part of the deal. I get it.”

You don’t, I want to say.You only know half of it.But I know better than to say anything else to complicate this moment.

seventeen

Jamie

Asliceofbrightlightbeams across the television screen, obscuring my view of the movie I’m half watching, half using for company. I’ve been lying here long enough for the sun to round the top of my building and come at me from the west, which officially marks the end of the third day I’ve spent stewing on this couch.

I can’t stop thinking about the beach and the way it took all of five minutes to go from my mouth at Noel’s neck to her dropping my hand andrunningaway from me.

If you’re offering me a taste, I’m gonna take it.

I groan at the memory. “You’re out of your mind, Bishop.” I knew I was. But then color had crept up her neck, and I picturedmyself tasting her there, biting a little. There was no coming back after that. And she’d said it.I’m offering.

Even now, the memory makes the front of my jeans tight and I reach down and adjust myself.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I just accept a thing is a bad idea and let it be? I’ve thought about Noel, wanted her, for two years, but talking to her like that, touching her like I did, I’m setting myself up for a big fall.

And yet, if she didn’t run away, I would have turned backwards, closed my eyes, and let myself tip.

I forgot how vulnerable this type of thing makes me feel. I haven’t cared about whether or not a woman liked me in a long time, not since everything imploded with Becca. The side of me that wants that kind of thing has learned his damn lesson, so I don’t know why he insists on popping up again now.

Noel’s leaving. I can spend every day with her, be stupid enough to cross my own lines, but at the end of the year, she’s gone.

The thought feels like a foot on the center of my chest, and I sit up and rub at it.

I just can’t help the feeling that if it weren’t for that piece, the rest wouldn’t be so insurmountable. There’s a certain possessiveness that comes with being the only head Noel’s been in. Despite the rules and boundaries I set for myself with women, it’s hard to imagine a world where we don’t explore that. Kissing her on that beach felt like we were just slotting into our rightful place. Like when you misthread the top of a jar at first, but then you hear that satisfying click when you set it right.

I push off the couch and head to the fridge, popping open an energy drink. Part of me wishes I could go back to when all I wanted out of this thing with Noel was a psychic tip. A favor. But even if I had the ability to rewind, I’d be hard-pressed to find atime when I wasn’t into her beyond that, which is why this whole agreement was a stupid move in a long line of stupid moves.

The reports Wes gave me from the launch are still sitting on the kitchen island, taunting me, and a sigh rips from my chest at the mental work it’s going to take for me to decipher them. Half the time I just don’t do it. I tell Wes I do, but in reality, I take his word for it. Lately, though, that feels like an in-my-face reminder of who I’m betting on if I buck Wes’s advice and don’t take this offer, so I force myself to sit on the stool and face the endless columns.

Unfortunately, that only starts a new loop of intrusive thoughts.You’re in over your head. You’ve never understood what it would take. You’ve been running an entire business on vibes and a vision from a drunk girl at a party.

Fuck.I really miss her.

I really need to let this go.

And I have no idea how to even begin to do that.

I pop in my AirPods and put on the focus playlist I found online, but the train’s pretty much off the rails by this point. Thoughts of Noel are like fingers at the back of my neck, drawing my attention away from any task I attempt.

My phone vibrates on the counter, and I grab for it, practically overjoyed at the distraction. I swipe my thumb across my phone screen to open a text from Greg. He’s rounding people up to watch the Bruins at The Coppersmith. Em’s already there, and the yeses and nos chime in from the rest of the guys. I quickly send a thumbs up emoji and grab my car keys.

It’s a short drive across the bridge, and the guys have saved me a seat at our usual table in front of the television. I slide inbetween Em and Trev, already feeling better. Like I’ve emerged from the Noel-cave I’ve been in and into the sunlight.

“How’s the recovery going?” Derek asks me when I pass on a pint from the pitcher he’s holding. “Any idea when you’ll be back at hockey?”

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