Page 10 of Flirty Fall Fling

He’s staring at me, and I can’t find the strength to meet his eyes. I focus, keeping my wand pointed toward the bottom.

“I’m doomed,” he says, unamused.

I swallow hard. “Are you even ready for true love?”

“Pfft. It doesn’t exist.”

He’s already viewing every relationship through that lens.

“What is your current love life like?”

“I’m not discussing this with you.”

“Ahh. You’re a flinger.”

I know his type. Stubborn. Man-whore. Dangerous. He looks like the type of guy who falls hard and fast, then moves on.

Jamie rolls his eyes, like he can read my thoughts.

The lie flies from my mouth. “It won’t be anything more than a flirty fall fling.”

Guilt takes hold of me because what if I’m doing him a disservice by lying? It’s the first time I’ve not told the truth during a reading. But if he were to avoid his next opportunity, he might miss meeting the love of his life, his twin flame. As I glance up at him, his eyes tell me he’d never accept a reading that says true love. Skeptics. This is me protecting him, even though I shouldn’t.

“A fling.” He sighs. For half a second, he looks almost disappointed, which is wild for a man who came in thinking I was a joke.

“You can reject whatever doesn’t resonate with you.”

He nods. “I think I’ve actually heard enough this time.”

When he stands, the room shrinks around me.

“For what it’s worth, you almost had me.”

“I don’t think you’re ready to hear what I have to say.”

“Yeah, yeah. Is there anything else I need to know?”

I twist his cup until I’ve seen the entire reading. “See it through to the end.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The corner of his perfect lips lifts, and then he shakes his head. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Blaire.”

“Blaire Witch?” he asks.

“Blaire Wardwell, but Witch also works. It was my roller derby nickname.” I don’t know why I just shared that with him.

“A derby girl?” His eyes flick up and down me. “I can see that.”

He drops a few hundred-dollar bills on the table before he leaves. “Thanks for a good time.”

“You already paid.”

“I’m tipping,” he says.

After what Doris Jean told me about the roof, I’m not about to turn his money away.

“Do I know you?” he asks.