Page 98 of The Fate Factor

“But have you been thinking about it? What you want.”

“Of course. That’s all I think about, besides you.” He gives my butt a light slap, and it echoes in the dark. He’s distracting. Deflecting.

I sigh. “I haven’t had a vision about your career since that first night, Jamie.”

“I know.” He’s quiet for a minute. “You still could, though. I mean, we don’t know.”

“Right.” I pull my lip between my teeth. “And if I do have one about the offer, that’s how you’ll make your decision?”

“Why are we pillow-talking about corporate acquisitions, Noel?”

“I was just thinking that’s how all of this started, and it’s sort of still hanging over us.”

“I think it started when I managed to pitch a semi with two broken ribs and a concussion.” His grin is mischief. Unserious. “God, that tank top you had on when you threatened me with your shoe.”

“Jamie.”

He seems to catch on that I’m not joking, and he tightens his grip, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Noel, I told you that first night, there’s no pressure.”

Right. And I didn’t believe it then either. I turn my chin, but he guides it back. “This offer is hanging overme. I love the way you take care of me, baby, but I don’t want you losing sleep over this.”

“I just don’t want to disappoint you if I can’t do it.”Or be your out if I can. My voice catches and I bury my nose in his neck. God, Wes is a dick for putting this in my head. Everything was perfect a few hours ago. Jamie and I have come so far from our supernatural start, but maybe there are still consequences left to discover, more layers to peel away, more questions. It was naive of me to think following the universe would stop being confusing.

I look up to see Jamie’s face has fallen, dimples disappearing into a serious expression that’s so rare, it jolts me. He presses his thumb to my bottom lip. “You believe in me, don’t you, Noel?”

“Yes, ofcourse.”

“Then I don’t need anything else.” He strokes my hair until my head falls to his chest. “Besides, even if you don’t have another vision, we still have the first one, from the roof. If that’s all I have to go on, it seems to have worked out pretty well.”

I’m quiet for a moment, considering this and all of the what ifs we still don’t have answers for. An idea comes to me. “Roll over.”

He does, burying his face in the pillow while I stretch to the nightstand where he keeps a pen and paper. I uncap the pen with my teeth, and Jamie stiffens when the cold tip touches his skin. “What’re you doing?”

“Drawing your next tattoo.”

His head lifts from the pillow, peering over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I say, sketching between his shoulder blades.

“It feels like a flower.”

I pinch his side. “You’re no fun!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing. “I’ll stop guessing.”

“It’s an iris.” I draw the beard of it, then swoop a line down his spine for the stem. “Flowers have different meanings. This one means wisdom to make hard choices.” Another swoop. “In case I don’t have another vision to help you.”

He’s face down in the pillow, but I see the corner of his mouth curl. “So damn sweet.”

thirty-two

Noel

IwakethesamewayI fell asleep, beneath the right side of Jamie’s body, his bed head tickling my cheek. The light coming through the window is tinted bright white, like maybe it snowed a bit while we slept. Just the thought of it makes me shiver, and I nuzzle into his body heat, but I don’t fall back to sleep fast enough, and my brain makes the quick walk from snow to winter to the end of the year. Wes and his accusations. Fate and its layers, upon layers, upon layers.

“I can feel you thinking,” Jamie mumbles.

I grin at the scratch in his usually honeyed voice. The late night still has its claws in him. “Only about coffee,” I lie. “Nothing philosophical.”

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