I turned back to glance at Dom on the couch. Maybe he really had been my last chance at love all those months ago. The kiss had only ingrained that possibility. Maybe I needed to see that no matter how much of a romantic heart I had, it didn’t mean I was entitled to a person in this life.
I had to know what I was supposed to do. I was desperate to know who I was meant to be with, even if that person was no one at all. I needed to understand where I was meant to be in this life that liked to play games with me.
Even if I hate where I end up.
11
SUMMER
“What even is that?” Dom asked from where he was still curled up in my bed, his voice not pitching in one direction or another as he spoke on his curiosity. He sounded intrigued, like a child finding something new in the world.
The summer morning light brightly shone in from the back door, casting everything in a cool golden glow. He had to lift a hand to shield himself from it, ruffling his bedhead.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“It’s my altar,” I explained. I was surprised, to be honest, that he hadn’t asked before now. “Some people have much more elaborate ones, but this one’s mine.”
My hand gave a flourish toward the small altar. Made from a child’s nightstand next to my closet, it wasn’t much, but it did the trick. It was lined with different candles and small plates meant for taking off your jewelry at the end of the day, but they were perfect for small offerings as well as crystals and moon water. For some reason, I’d also read that Hecate was a glutton for cookies, and I didn’t want crumbs getting everywhere until I had to clean the stale remnants up. However, I usually only gifted them around the holidays or when desperate since I was such a bad baker.
I figured she appreciated it all the same.
“Your altar? I didn’t know they had those outside of churches.” Dom cocked his head.
“The gods are rather vain. They like physical representations about how much they are loved and needed.” I walked back across the room and started to crawl toward him onto the bed.
Dom snorted. “We don’t sound so different.”
“No.” I collapsed back down on top of him, nestling myself into his chest. I could hear his heart beating when I pressed my ear against him. It thrummed, slow, steady, and content. “I guess not. Is that your way of telling me that you want me to worship you?”
I kissed the center of his chest, then at his throat.
He stretched his body out at the sultry touches. He groaned as he grasped me around the waist, holding me right there against him, unable to move. “So, your gods—”
“And goddesses.”
“And goddesses,” he corrected himself. “Does everyone in your group pray like you do to them?”
“My coven? Yes, and no. It depends on their practice and how they believe,” I said, trying to start small.
All I needed was to start talking about how Lu practiced eclectically while Celeste’s practices mainly stayed in the kitchen, like that of Strega Nona and her magic pot of noodles. The idea itself made me smile.
“We’re all very open to the unknown in that aspect. Even if some of us don’t pray to the gods or specific goddesses, like I’ve personally devoted myself to, it doesn’t mean they’re not there, listening in.”
“And you like that?”
I propped my chin up to get a better look at his face, gauging for any judgment. “Yeah, I do. It makes me feel less alone. Magic is belief and manifestation brought to life. My craft also makes me feel powerful and understood. Though not many believe in magic anymore, like I said, it doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. I like to think it’s there.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
He smiled, flashing his teeth.
“In this room. In how we treat each other. How we form and find relationships. Love. Wherever there is energy, there is magic,” I tried to explain. “I know it’s hard to understand, but it makes life … I don’t know … better. More extraordinary. Honestly, we all need that in life—or at least, I do.”
“You are extraordinary.”
My cheeks burned from the smile I held.
