Page 66 of The Fate Factor

My skin bursts with goosebumps at that firm conviction, and with it something reckless and new stirs inside of me.

Kate’s right. I am disappointed. I wanted this thing to be my safety net like Colin said. I wanted to feel safe to reach for something without the constant fear that I’d miss it and fall on my face. And I’m tired of this spin in my head, trying to decipher signs and tiny glimpses. I’m tired of feeling more lost than found when I think of how Jamie and I got here. If the universe wants to tell me something, it needs to spit it out.

And maybe it will if I ask.

I don’t think everyone who looks into a candle and asks a question will get an answer, but I do know, one time I did.

“We should try it again,” I say. “The candle.”

Confusion passes over his face, then his eyes go wide. “Noel, no. That’s not why I said—”

“I know it’s not.” So far these visions have seemed to come at random times, but I don’t know if I canmakeit happen, if I can ask my own questions the way I did with Nana. Being friends and seeing what happens hasn’t been working, so now all I have left is to experiment for both of us.

No matter what’s up ahead, Kate said.You’re going to have to move to find it.

Jamie’s still looking at me carefully. “I want to,” I tell him. “Really.”

He shifts so we’re knee to knee. His arm is wrapped around his ribcage, and he looks nervous. It takes me a moment to realize I’m not. I feel safe here, just the two of us, figuring it out together.

“Do you need the cup of water?” he asks.

“Um, I don’t think so,” I say, figuring it out as I go. “The candle actually didn’t seem to play a part the last few times. Let’s just… here.” Taking a deep breath through my nose, I square his body to mine, sliding my palms to the gentle curve of his pectoral muscles beneath his sweatshirt.

Jamie stiffens at my touch, and I try to ignore it, focus my attention on the hollow of his throat. There’s a small freckle there that looks like it jumped the constellation that I know is just beneath his collar bones. I feel unsteady and woozy alright, but it’s not the least bit supernatural.

“This is so weird,” he breathes. It’s half a laugh but his face isn’t smiling.

“Totally weird.”

With that, I let my eyes close and try to pick up some vibration from the universe, some message in the ether, but I realize quickly I have no idea what I’m looking for. If I can make it happen, will it be stronger than when it surprises me? Will it be a picture again? Or will I feel some sort of burst of emotion the way I felt it when I saw Becca and some other man breaking Jamie’s heart? Am I going to pass out? Throw up? Cry? Anxiety spreads like cotton in my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

What if I can’t do it?What if Ican?What if he doesn’t like what I see?

“Hey.” Jamie must sense my spiral because I feel his fingers cup my cheek, and it’s so tender. So sweet. “No pressure,” he whispers.

“No pressure.” Blowing a slow breath toward the ceiling, I force my mind to settle on the feel of his skin on mine, the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm. The heat of his body. I imagine a string tied around us, cinching tighter. I let myself imagine it, another glimpse of the future coming to me. I imagine it working but…

Nothing.

My frustration is a wild horse, snorting and pawing at the dirt. There has to be some trick to this I haven’t figured out yet. Something I’m missing.

“It’s okay,” he says, but suddenly it’s not.

“Hold on.” I study him with my lip between my teeth. He’s still bundled up in these layers, damp from the rain. The opposite of his near nakedness on the beach. Maybe I need more contact. “Here,” I say, reaching for the zip on his hoodie, dragging it the rest of the way down. “Take this off.”

He shrugs it off his shoulders, revealing a threadbare T-shirt. It’s heather red, and I notice with affection that it looks truly gorgeous against his fair skin, followed by the odd feeling that I’ve had that thought before.

My skin tingles with awareness that my mind races to place, but then he turns to lay the hoodie on the arm of my couch, his muscles flexing beneath the cotton tee, and it’s like someone has reached inside my skull and flicked my brain.His T-shirt.

I press my fingers to the logo on his chest. Crackled white writing that reads:Peaks Island Summerfest. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Where did you get this shirt?” I ask, taking a handful in my fist.

He looks down at it and smirks. “I’ll give you one guess.”

I’ve seen Jamie almost daily since I’ve been here, and I’ve only seen this shirt once. In the vision I had at Fortune.

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