Page 90 of The Fate Factor

“Jamie,” I say quietly. “You’ve wanted me to have another vision since we met. Now you don’t like the idea of it?”

“It just feels different. Being about me and you. I don’t know…”

I cross my arms over my chest, feeling awkward and unsteady. “Last night, you said you hoped you and I were part of the deal.”

“I know, it’s just—” He stops, shakes his head. “You’re right. I don’t care how it happened.”

“Me neither,” I say, quick to reassure, to fix this. “Everything’s happening exactly how it was supposed to, right?”

“Right.” He swallows again, punctuating his agreement with a nod.

But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m trying to convince him of something he was sure of before now.

twenty-nine

Jamie

Itwasmeandyou. Here.

I tip my head back beneath the shower in this apparently fated hotel and let the hot water pound my face. I’m freaking out about what Noel just told me, and I can’t decide if it’s the good kind of freak out or the bad kind.

Part of me wants to hold onto it the way I did when she told me about the money, about opening my business. The way I did when she told me about Becca, and I avoided marrying someone who clearly didn’t love me because of it.

On the other hand, it’s hard not to hear something else in that confession: Noel’s only mine because she saw it in the vision.

I open the tiny soap packet and scrub my skin, trying to metaphorically wash away this train of thought. It’s an oldhabit, like Em said—counting myself out of the equation—and I want to keep from going down that hole right now. Noel’s been sleeping in my bed or me in hers since our first night together. I’m not misinterpreting this thing between us.

She knows me. She chose this right along with me.

But I also know her; how careful she is. I can still picture her running away on that beach. Would she have chosen any of this if she didn’t have the vision behind her? Would she have even agreed to see me again after I passed out on her porch? Or kissed me on her couch that night? All of a sudden, it feels wholly unlikely that the two of us end up together without it.

And why didn’t she say anything? Maybe she’s just been going along with it, hoping I’d grow on her.

The thought makes my stomach clench and I shove it away.

She did not say any of that, Bishop.

Fuck. My pep talks were never very effective.

The bathroom door clicks open, and I hear Noel make that tiny squeak she makes when she’s cold. “I’m coming in,” she yelps, right before the curtain slides and she steps over the tub edge, arms around her chest, dancing on her tiptoes. I pull her under the water and spin so she’s getting most of it.

When she’s wet her hair, she looks up at me with her lip between her teeth. “Hi.”

“Hi, Noe.” I lean down to kiss her so I don’t have to force a smile. My hands squeeze at her like she’s an apparition about to disappear.Jesus. Quit acting weird.

Now I’m self-conscious, and I reach for the shampoo, squirt some in my palm.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course,” I say, but I wouldn’t believe me either with the way my voice has gone all raspy.

Noel rests her cheek on my chest, fingers smoothing over my sides while I work shampoo into her long hair. I try to let myselfenjoy the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers, the way she burrows in, gives herself over to me. I close my eyes and tell myself to feel it, but they pop right back open. “It’s just… what if you have one about someone else?”

She looks up through the water, brow furrowed. “A vision?”

“Whatever it is.”

“Now it’s ‘whatever it is?’” There’s hurt in her voice that’s worse than anything so far, but something’s telling me to loosen my grip on this. “Jamie. I think the point is that I won’t.”

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