Page 96 of Bewitched & Bewildered
I lift a brow. “Don’t get what?”
“The tarot reading. I thought the shop was the six of cups, but…I guess it wasn’t.” Laurel’s shoulders slump. “I guess the reading was wrong. Like,reallywrong.”
I press my lips together. I shouldn’t give Laurel any ammunition—but if I make her feel like her readings areinaccurate, I’m not supporting my sister’s dream. They all support mine, even though I don’t know what it is yet.
“No. You were right all along,” I say. “It was Ozan… and it was love. Well—not love, but something close.”
If I don’t put a damper on it soon, itwillbecome love. I can’t look at my sisters, but I know Laurel’s jaw is on the ground.
“Really?” Laurel leans across the table, taking my hand in hers. “My reading was right? And my intuition was, too?”
I nod and stare up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter. He’s still healing from a divorce. I don’t expect anything from him.”
“My reading didn’t see that part,” Laurel says. “There was no three of swords…”
“But the three of cups was there,” I say. “Sometimes that can represent a third party.”
“Rarely…” Rowan tilts her head to the side. “Unless there was another indication in the reading.”
Laurel hums under her breath.
“Forget the cards.” Maple frowns. “Honey… you need totalkto him. All the divination in the world can’t make up for bad communication.”
“I don’t want to,” I say. “We already talked. I know what we are.”
Even if I’m not strong enough to keep running the shop, Iamstrong enough to pretend I’m happy with being his friend. Just his friend.
I still can’t believe Ozan is my friend. Somehow, that’s more surprising than everything else we’ve done.
OZAN
The only decent bar in the county is twenty minutes away. It’s still a dive bar with dirty glasses and a cheap pool table, but it’s a place for me to escape for a night. I deserve a break after the month I’ve had.
Since moving to Starbrook, I’ve been working nonstop. It’s satisfying work and different from what I did in Boston, but it still takes up my precious energy. I have two options. I can have a night at a bar, drink a few, and get a cab home…
Or I can call up Juniper. I can’t think of better stress relief than spending time with her, but I’m not sure she wants that.
Juniper and I are in a strange place. We agreed to keep it casual and physical, but I know something more is brewing. I still want to give her space if she needs it.
This is supposed to be a good night. It’s supposed to bemynight. Of course, Otis is here to ruin it.
He’s Massachusetts born and raised. Why the hell is he still in Maine?
I spot him as I sidle up to the bar. He’s a few inches shorter than me, with a mess of black hair and an unmissable taste for bright colors. His beanie is bright yellow and perfectly matches his checkered pants.
It’s impossible to miss him.
“Otis?”
I should avoid him—I definitely shouldn’t stand next to him, but I do.
He turns to me with a tired smile. “Hey, man.”
He greets me like we’re still friends—and more than that, like he belongs here. Otis and I met in Boston; in my eyes, he should bethere.
I remember when we first met—it was in a bar like this one. We were using fake IDs, but the bar near campus tended to look the other way. After that night, we were fast friends.
That ended when Vanessa found comfort in him. I still don’t know how to deal with his presence.
