One
I’ve been on this spirituality, self-help journey for a while now. I’m not sure exactly where Luna’s Twilight Tarot and Healing Arts shop falls on that spectrum of spirituality, but I’m here to embark on the unexpected. Plus, I can’t catch another bus for thirty minutes, and it’s literally two degrees outside.
I bite my lip and glance down at the book clutched in my hand. The glossy pale pink cover that promises this self-help book will bethe last one you’ll ever need to truly start living your best lifereflects the neon crescent moon hanging above the door to Luna’s Twilight Tarot shop. I flip it open to the last page I read. The crumpled napkin I used as a bookmark drifts to the sidewalk as my eyes roam over the phrases I highlighted while on my lunch break.
Do something unexpected…
Don’t let who you think you’re supposed to be stop you from being who you’re meant to be.
Surprise yourself!
“Getting advice about the biggest moment in my career from a deck of tarot cards sure is surprising,” I murmur, adjusting my oversize bag on my arm as I push open the door. The bell above the wood frame chimes as I step into a dimly lit haze of sandalwood and lavender.
I creep into the open space and let the door swing shut behind me. The walls are a rich, deep navy decorated with framed posters of the moon’s phases and partially clothed women.
“Hello?” I call out, slowly walking to the center of the room where a large antique wooden table holds a variety of crystals. Above the table, the flickering Edison bulbs in the beaded chandelier cast a fire-like glow against the faceted peaks and valleys of each crystal.
I round the table, passing by a seventies-era wood-paneled wall. One hand clutches my book while the fingertips of the other glide over rose quartz orbs stacked inside a bronze bowl. There’s an alcove to my left lit with black candles and decorated with dried flowers and framed photos.
This place feels like someone with a mystic-chic Pinterest board went on a caffeinated decorating frenzy.
At the edge of the store, there’s a small room set apart by a beaded curtain.
“Luna?” I whisper, feeling like an intruder even though their website says walk-ins are welcome.
The heater clicks on, and a door, previouslycamouflaged in the strips of wood paneling, sighs open. Red light pours from the crack in the open door, and warm air blows across my cold cheeks and twirls through the unruly strands of hair that have fallen from my messy bun. Every morning, I promise myself a stylish braided updo from those tutorial videos, yet my disheveled topknot reigns supreme.
A woman’s silky, pleasure-filled moan slips through the parted door as I peer into the red room. My gaze lands on a man’s naked back, every muscled inch sweat-streaked and glistening in the candlelight. The woman moans again, and he moves to the side, revealing her naked body covered by a red silk sheet. She arches her back, her shoulder pressing into the massage table beneath her as the glossy fabric slips down to expose her breasts.
“Yes,” he rumbles, “harness your power.”
I freeze. I should clear my throat or close the door, but I can’t stop staring.
He extends his arm to an area I can’t see through the crack in the door and returns with a single red rose. He brings it to his lips. His voice is low and deep as he breathes against the open petals. “Harness your power.” He murmurs the words against the delicate bud before touching the petals to her forehead.
A cry catches in her throat as he drags the bloom down her nose, over her lips, along the curve of her chin. She arches from the table, her breasts like offerings while he whispers to her. He pulls the rose along the column of her neck before circling each breast and dusting each nipple. With a velvety moan, she jerks and quakes beneath the flower’s touch.
“More,” he breathes, his hand slipping under the silk, between her legs—
My breath is ragged, as ragged and raw as hers, and I must be breathing loudly because he looks up. His gaze meets mine. Candlelight reflects off his light eyes, turning them to fire.
I stumble backward and crash into the table, my giant purse knocking into the crystal-filled bowl.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I curse as the bronze bowl clatters to the ground, and I drop to my hands and knees to crawl after the marble-like orbs.
The man steps out of the room, softly closing the door behind him. “I’m afraid I don’t have any openings this evening.” He stares down at me and combs his fingers through his sweat-damp golden curls.
“Oh, no, thank you.” I shake my head and lean back on my knees, wincing as I pick up the bowl and drop in a handful of clanging crystals. “I’m not here for that.” My gaze slides down his thick chest and sculpted abs to the elastic line of his briefs peeking out above his gray sweatpants.
Oh god.
My mouth goes dry, and my cheeks flame as my attention settles on his massive bulge.
“I—I have a boyfriend,” I say straight to his cock, as if it asked. “I’m sorry.” I giggle the same annoying high-pitched sound I roll my eyes at whenever I watch Netflix’s newest holiday special. This is definitely not the kind of main-character energy I want.
“You certainly seem interested,” he says.
I collect the last few crystals and scramble to my feet to place the bowl back on the table. “I shouldn’t be here.This was all a big mistake.Huge.” I bite my lower lip to keep my nervous laughter from erupting, but it comes out of my nose as a pig snort.
