Page 55 of Butter My Biscuit

“Right?”

“Should totally add that to yourtrying to impress womenlist.”

I pop a brow. “How do you know it’s not already?”

“Touché. So …” She lingers. “Kinsley told me she did a reading.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, I pull the noodles from the burner and drain them. “Not you too.”

“Well, what did it say?” She sips her wine, but I see the curious look in her eyes.

“If you want her to pull your love reading, just ask her. She would be down for it, trust me. But mine? It was something about balancing forces. That’s all I remember.”

And I’m being honest. I don’t believe in that woo-woo stuff like my sister does. But I will always stop and pick a penny up if it’s heads up.

“Sounds like Jedi stuff,” she says, and I laugh. “Maybe I will ask.”

She pulls her phone from her pocket, and I’m honestly shocked those shorts had a pocket.

“If you open that can of worms, there’s no closing it,” I warn, knowing where this road leads.

She types something and presses Send.

“Well,youlet the vampire in, okay?”

Grace leans against the counter, texting my sister as I remove the chicken. We steal glances at each other.

I shoot her a smile. “What’s she saying?”

She shakes her head. “Exactly what I thought she’d say. Wait. She said we got the same exact reading. Now, she’s freaking out.”

“I warned you,” I tell her, putting garlic bread in the oven while I slice the chicken.

“Can I help you with anything?”

I shake my head. “No, babe.”

Grace’s phone buzzes. Text messages from my sister flood in. She glances down at it, then back at me.

“Now, watch her start talking about spooky synchronicities and saying we’re meant to be together,” I say with a smirk.

Grace gasps. “Oh my goodness, she just did.”

She turns her phone around and shows me as she grabs her glass of wine.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve dealt with this my entire life. Do you believe it?”

She shakes her head, but her smile lights up the entire fucking room. “Of course not.”

“Okay.” I playfully roll my eyes. “Then, nothing to worry about.”

“Yep, just like the Kiss of Death. Just a bunch of woo.”

“Yeah, totally,” I tell her, and then I notice a slight change in her expression. “What, is the curse working?” I lift a brow, knowing her better than she knows herself sometimes.

She grabs plates from the cabinets. “Nope. Still completely immune, just like always. But if that changes, please feel free to get me medical attention because that means something malfunctioned in my brain.”

“Ouch. Harsh. But I’ll keep that in mind when you start dreaming about me because I’ve heard that’s how you know you’ve got it really bad.”

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