Page 113 of Hearts Storm

She’s quiet for a long moment, turning the cup slowly between her fingers, brow furrowed. A low humming sound vibrates in her throat, making the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end.

My stomach knots tighter with every second that passes.

Finally, she sets the cup aside with a soft exhale and reaches across the table, palms up.

“Could you not be so cryptic this time?” I say, placing my hands in hers before I lose my nerve. “Just be straight with me. Please.”

Her fingers close around mine, warm and steady, and something in her expression softens. The mask slips just enough for me to see the woman underneath—compassionate, patient, and maybe a little tired.

“Very well,” she says, thumbs sweeping over my knuckles.

I hold my breath.

“This part of the message is even stronger than before,” she says gently. “Your sister drowning was not your fault. You were a child. Your father should have been watching you.”

My vision blurs, a hot, sharp stinging behind my eyes that I quickly blink away.

“She does not blame you,” she continues, squeezing my hands. “She has never blamed you. What you feel is grief. And until you accept it, you will keep running from yourself, from any real chance at happiness, unable to connect on a deeper level with the men who want you.”

A tear slips free and rolls down my cheek.

“Now,” she says, shifting her grip so her thumbs press into the centers of my palms, “about those two men.”

My pulse kicks. “What about them?”

She studies me for a long moment, and I swear her dark eyes can see straight through me as her thumbs press deeper into my palms. “The dark one—he is fire. All-consuming and protective. He burns for you, but echoes of his past are still keeping his deeper emotions at bay.”

“The light one—he is of the earth. Grounded and warm. He sees you clearly and wants all of you with no hesitation.”

“But you know, deep down, that you don’t have to choose,” she says, giving me a pointed look as my heart trips. “The universe doesn’t always follow the rules we’ve been taught. Sometimes love takes forms we never expected.”

I know they both want me. Each of them has had me in some form or another. Logan just opened himself up. Not to mention none of us have discussed what being together would look like. Not yet.

And something tells me that conversation isn’t too far off.

Madame Solis releases my hands. “I see a beautiful future ahead of you. Yes, there will be some fierce storms along the way, maybe even a hurricane or two. But both will always be there to help guide you through the rain.

“But I must warn you: You need to let the people who love you in. All the way. Otherwise you will never fully heal.”

I leave the psychic’s home and climb up into my truck in a daze.

Cracking the window so the cool air fans my face, I take a deep, cleansing breath. I’ve got a pole dancing class to teach, so I need to get focused. Clear my head.

Don’t want to fall on my face in front of the class because I’m fantasizing about two hot men. Men I can’t stop thinking about. Men who have somehow managed to burrow their way into every part of me.

Engine rumbling to life, I make my way through the neighborhood to Summit Studio.

Streets blur past, my mind all tangled up because of what Madame Solis predicted.

A kid on a bicycle cuts across the intersection, and I brake on instinct. Soon the neighborhood gives way to the main road that leads to downtown Lakeside. Daylight cuts across my dashboard, bouncing off cars and storefronts as I drive past.

Taking a deep breath, I turn onto Main Street, pull into the parking lot across the street, and head inside.

“Rey!” Sasha waves me over to the front desk where she’s just finished signing in a client. “About time you showed up. I’ve been dying to talk to you!”

Mind still reeling a little, I force a smile. “Hey, Sash.”

Her keen eyes narrow as they scan my face. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”