Page 12 of Bonded By Tea and Tarot

I pull out the post-concussion care list the nurse gave me and flip through it, confirming what I suspected. I tap the paper with one finger. “Looks like minimizing screens is recommended after a concussion. Maybe we can chat for a bit instead? Or would you like to take a nap?”

She nods, then wrinkles her nose. I imagine nodding doesn’t feel great.

“I don’t want to sleep,” she says. “But chatting would be nice. You also don’t have to babysit me though, I promise I’m okay on my own.”

“Maybe,” I concede. “But I’d like to stay. Is that okay?”

Her lips tilt up, and she rests the uninjured side of her head against the back of the couch, curling her legs underneath her and tugging a fluffy, cream colored pillow to her chest.

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

I don’t mind confirming as many times as needed to ease her worries. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.

“Soooo, I follow your social account,” I share, deciding work is a safe territory for now.

“You do?” Her eyebrows pop up, and I grin at her surprise.

Of course I do, silly omega. “Yeah, it’s really interesting. How does it work for a job?”

“Oh.” She tucks a strand of the palest gold hair behind her ear and bites her lip, then glances at the books around us. “Well, I have a few brand affiliations, and I get paid well for the content I create for them. Mostly clothing, jewelry, that type of thing.”

I nod and lean my head against my fist, my elbow propped on the back of the couch so I’m turned sideways facing her. “That’s cool.”

“I don’t just collab with anybody, though,” she rushes to say. “I’m picky about who I work with, and I don’t sign any contracts until I’ve tried their product and know I like it. Luckily, I have enough of a following to negotiate my pay, so if they don’t agree to what I want, I can say no.”

She shrugs like that’s no big deal, but I literally can’t imagine doing what she does. She’s clever and tenacious. She knows her worth and she demands it. My admiration for her continues to grow with every minute I spend in her presence.

“I also do tarot readings for people. I do a live stream every Sunday, then post content throughout the week, and I make time for a couple private readings each day, too. It’s fun, and I like helping people.”

“Will you do one for me?” I blurt out before I can think better of it.

Her lips part in surprise and she stares at me for a moment, then her smile lights up the whole room. “Yeah, sure,” she says. She gestures to a bookcase across the room from us. “My decks are over there, go ahead and pick whichever one calls to you.”

Trying not to feel self-conscious with her knowing blue eyes following my every move, I skim my eyes over the various decks, finally landing on one called “Spiritsong”.

Chapter Nine

Siobhan

He’s so graceful it nearly hurts to watch. The way he walks like he’s floating, every movement intentional and easy. He picks a deck and carries it over, sitting down an entire cushion away from me again, like he’s afraid to get too close.

I wish he’d sit closer. Close enough to touch.

The way he listened and accepted what I do for work without the tiniest hint of judgment has me wanting to leap into his arms. My head pounds in protest at that idea, and my stomach roils uncomfortably. I ignore it, turning my attention back to the sensual beta in my reading room.

And now, how he seems to be truly interested in my work, my passion. I’ve never had that in anyone before. My friends think it’s fun, maybe even interesting, but it always feels like they’re indulging me more than engaging. And everyone I’ve dated in the past has treated my job like some sort of kitschy hobby, or a cute little side project. Like it’s a phase I’ll outgrow someday before I get a “real” job. But Aury hasn’t made me feel that way once. He’s easy to talk to, a good listener, and it makes me want to open up and share more with him.

His warm cinnamon scent slowly permeates my space, sinking into the green velvet cushions and making me want to cozy up to him and snuggle into his side. If only my head wasn’t throbbing, my jaw didn’t ache, and the idea of moving two feet didn’t feel equivalent to running a marathon.

I slip the pastel green top off the box he chose and tip the cards into my hand. Shuffling them is not nearly as easy as it normally is with this stupid splint on my wrist, and I debate taking it off for about two seconds before I toss the idea, knowing Aury would throw a fit. I force my irritation away, not wanting the negative energy around my cards. Since this is going to take longer than usual, I figure it’s a good opportunity for me to learn more about him.

“Where did you learn tai chi?” I glance up at him, irritated all over again that shuffling with a splint requires me to watch my hands as the cards tip between them.

“My grandparents on my dad’s side were from Guangdong, outside Hong Kong. My dad was born there, but then they all moved here when he was a baby. Anyways, my ye ye—grandpa—is the one who taught me tai chi. He used to practice outside on the front lawn every morning and I’d follow behind him.” Aury has a fond, nostalgic smile on his face, the kind that tells me his ye ye is no longer with us.

“How old were you?”

“Oh, very young. As my mom tells it, I’d started following him around before I could even walk. Crawling to the front door and sitting in front of it to watch him through the screen.”