Page 24 of Summer Solstice

He searched my face then, his eyes moving over my every feature. “It means…” He swallowed again, hard enough that I could see the movement in his throat. “It means... that our souls... are connected.”

A rush of heat tore through me like a wildfire. Soulmates? That’s what he had to mean, right? Souls connected... I’d heard the stories, people bound by the ‘red string of fate’, but I never thought it would be quite so literal.

I was fated to Andre.

That meant he was my match, the other part of my soul, the person I’d been looking for my entire life without ever knowing it. A person who was with me not only in this life, but in every other.

My one.

Just as quickly as it came, the fire of excitement within me guttered out, leaving nothing but cold ashes in its wake.

Because I was going to screw it up.

My track record was beyond abysmal. I never picked the right guy. We either had huge differences, like Roy and I, never mind that he was fated to Fifi. Or I ended up hurting someone badly, like I had with Marty. And my relationships before I came to Haven Hollow, well, the less said about those, the better. The only good thing to come out of any of them had been Finn, who was the best part of my life.

But even with all that—even with all the failed relationships, fate was presenting me with this man. This wonderful, kind, caring man. This man, who did everything he could to inspire hope in others, who had uprooted his entire life to move to Haven Hollow to teach Finn. Handsome, dependable, kind, funny and charming—he was everything I’d ever wanted in a man. And he was meant to be my other half?

My chest was heaving, but I couldn’t seem to get any air. It suddenly felt like I was going to have a panic attack. Right here at the table. Because I was soulmates with an amazing man, and it was all going to go so, so wrong, because I just couldn’t seem to do things any other way.

Andre’s hand tightened on mine. “Poppy, breathe. It’s alright.”

He traced a little shivery pattern on the back of my hand, and my lungs unlocked. Everything suddenly felt fresh and clear, my head not so fuzzy and my heart no longer pounding a thousand times a second.

“What did you just do?” I asked him when I thought I could speak without gasping. “Was that magic?”

Andre smiled slightly, still watching my face. “It’s my little pick-me-up. I used to need it when I got stage fright before a show.”

“You got stage fright?” I couldn’t picture it. He always seemed so calm, so in control of himself, so prepared for everything that came his way.

The smile became a little more genuine, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Oh, yes. Quite a lot, actually.”

The thought of a younger Andre trying to talk himself up before stepping out onto the stage, nervous and hopeful, well, it made something go warm and soft in my chest. It was like a little glimpse into his life, that confession. I gave his fingers a squeeze.

“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t mean the spell. Though, that was pretty cool, too.

He was quiet long enough that I started to get nervous again.

“Poppy.” He said my name quietly, almost reverently. “I understand why you waited—why you didn’t want to see what this was between us. And perhaps you still don’t...”

“No,” I nearly interrupted him. “It’s not that.”

He nodded. “Well, I don’t want to rush you, or push you at all. That isn’t my intention and never has been.”

“I know,” I said with a nod. “You’ve been more than understanding and patient.”

He gave me a smile. “Because I would very much like to see where this could go—whenever you’re ready, of course.” He squeezed my hand, his fingers strong and warm against my chilled skin. “I’d like to see what this is between us, and what it could be. But only if you want that, too.”

I couldn’t seem to look away from his face, his eyes. They were so blue in the candle light, with a few flecks or gray around the outer edge of his iris. I wanted to run my fingers over the arch of his brow, the straight line of his nose, the surprisingly soft looking curve of his lower lip.

Part of me wanted to throw myself across the table at him. The other part, the small, terrified piece of me, wanted to bolt for the door.

In the beginning, yes, I’d held back because I didn’t want to hurt Marty. I’d never wanted him to feel replaced or unimportant to me. But it had been eight months, and even if he wasn’t ready to talk to me just yet, Marty’s feelings weren’t really a valid excuse any longer. The only thing really holding me back now was myself.

This was soulmate stuff. So much bigger than any other relationship I’d ever been in. Andre was my person. And my track record was basically a dumpster fire. And not to mention that he’d moved cities for me, and he was Finn’s teacher. If it all went to hell, would he regret moving here? Would he resent me? Would he resent Finn? I didn’t want Finn to lose out just because I stunk at dating. I’d never stop being grateful to Marty that he hadn’t ditched Finn just because we hadn’t worked out, but could I really expect the same from Andre? I was so afraid of screwing it all up that I almost didn’t want to try at all.

“You’re having second thoughts?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, I’m... scared. I have a track record of... failed relationships.”

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