Page 63 of In Somnis

My thumbs hover for a second before I type.

Hey, sorry for bolting yesterday. Tarot reading today still on?

The reply comes almost immediately.

Jasper

OMG YES

I’m done with school at 11!!!

Do you wanna come over then?

I smile to myself. Of course, he uses exclamation points like that. But then I hesitate, thinking of Nevan and how he snapped at me.

Could we maybe meet at a café or something? I don’t think your brother would appreciate me being there.

Not true.

But I can’t today, I have to watch my mom.

Nevan’s working anyway, you won’t see him!!!

Watch his mom? Is she sick?

I stare at the screen, a flicker of recognition blooming inside me. I don’t even know Jasper’s situation, but the echo is loud enough that it makes me swallow.

That’s okay. I can come by after 11

Excited!!!

I set the phone down and stare at the ceiling.

Something has to be wrong with me when getting advice from an eighteen-year-old punk fairy with crystals feels less unhinged than what I’ve been doing here on my own.

My stomach growls again, and when I realize it’s already after ten, I decide to get up and head to a café in town and grab food for us. I sling my purse over my shoulder and grab the doorknob, but then I remember Nevan. I wrap my fingers around the crystal hanging around my neck, running my thumb over the smooth material.

Weird dream or not, I haven’t slept this well in ages, and the crystal might be why. I’m not ready to give it up yet. I am also not in the mood to be yelled at again, so I tuck it under my sweater before I leave.

When I step into the hallway, my gaze is drawn like a magnet to Ridge’s door.

“Later,” I mutter in his direction. It’s a promise to him and me.

By the time I reach the café, the cluster of thoughts from the morning has settled into a dull, manageable buzz. I order two lattes and croissants, and only a few minutes after eleven, I’m walking toward the inn, hands full and breath puffing slightly in the cool air.

Jasper is perched on the front steps, looking like he’s been counting down the minutes. He’s dressed in baggy jeans and an oversized sweater that swallows him whole, but he’s still layered in crystal necklaces, rings on nearly every finger, bracelets clinking softly as his knee bounces up and down. He looks up when he spots me, and his whole face lights up.

He’s on his feet in a second, taking the coffees and the bag with croissants from me and setting them carefully on the steps. Then he pulls me into a hug that’s all warmth and unfiltered enthusiasm.

His nose brushes my shoulder. “Oh wow. You smell really nice.”

I laugh and squeeze him back. “So do you. What is that? Incense?”

“And good vibes,” he adds, then breaks into a grin and spins us both around. “Come on.”

He scoops up our stuff and leads me around the side of the inn, into the garden behind it. I stop short at the sight.

It’s a bigger space than I expected, with a little pond reflecting the cloudy sky, flowerbeds bursting with late-season color, and old trees that look like they’ve been here forever.