8. What The Future Holds
CHAPTER 8
WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS
BAY
I ’m glad Ryker admits that the connection between me and Lakyn goes beyond what can be scientifically explained.
If he had decided to argue with me, I would have fought hard to change his mind. Like I do with Lake, but I suspect she claims our supernatural connection is just in my head just to mess with me; or maybe because the power of our bond is a little scary when you think about it.
“There’s something I’m wondering,” Ryker says after we walk in comfortable silence for a few moments. “You didn’t continue with cheerleading. Did you lose interest?”
“Yes and no,” I explain. “I was cheer captain throughout high school. We had a good team, but nothing worthy of a national championship or that would get us huge scholarship opportunities. So I started looking at other avenues to be able to afford an Ivy League education. My parents are high school teachers, so they didn’t have that kind of money, especially not for both me and Lakyn. Our grades were excellent, but full academic rides are incredibly competitive and Lake and I wanted to go to college together. I had always been interested in makeup. Not just the makeup artist side, but also the science and research behind it. I always made my own natural face masks and stuff like that. I started vlogging about it sophomore year of high school and by senior year I had over three million followers across a couple of social media platforms and several sponsorships. That’s how I paid for mine and Lakyn’s degrees. It was natural to keep building my business and that left no time for cheering.”
Ryker looks impressed and I can’t help but feel pleased by the new admiration in his gaze. “That’s awesome, Bay. So is this why you’re taking so many science classes? You want to create your own makeup?”
I tell him about my dream of having my own company one day. “I want to make natural, cruelty free makeup that’s so outstanding that every important makeup artist in Hollywood will use it. Something for every skin type and tone.”
He nods, genuinely interested in what I’m saying. “That’s ambitious but I lo?—”
“It isn’t here anymore,” I say, disappointed.
Ryker looks confused. “What isn’t here?”
“The Mouth Of Truth. Lakyn said it was three quarters of the way down the pier, after the funnel cake place but before you get to the Ferris wheel and the kids rides. It’s not here anymore.”
In place of a replica of the ancient Roman monument, there’s a fortune teller tent.
I can’t hide my disappointment. “They swapped it with a lame fortune teller.”
The words die in my mouth when a woman comes out of the tent. “Fortune telling isn’t lame, young woman.” She scolds me.
Her foreign accent is so strong, that I have to wonder if it’s fake. “Sorry,” I feel bad about offending her trade, but I was hoping to get a prediction from the Mouth of Truth like Lake and Cash did last year.
“Apology accepted,” the woman nods. “Madame Svetlana will read your fortune to show you she is better than a piece of carbon fiber with a computer chip in it.” She spits out the last part as if the Mouth of Truth was personally offending of her divination arts.
“Thank you, but there’s somewhere we need to be?—”
She grabs my forearm, her dark brown eyes intense as she looks at me. “You’re lying, there’s nowhere you need to be. Don’t be scared.”
Her tone rubs me the wrong way. “I’m not scared.”
The thin, red lips of the older woman stretch in a knowing smile. “Then what’s the harm in trying? I’ll read your fortune for free, so if it’s lame , like you said, it won’t cost you a cent.”
For a skinny, older woman, Madame Svetlana has one hell of a grip. “Fine,” I relent, since she doesn’t look like she’s going to let me go any time soon. “Let’s make it quick though, it’s getting late.”
Madame Svetlana shakes her head, her red curls bouncing with the action. “Come inside, welcome, welcome.” She opens the split in the tent with the hand that isn’t holding me in a viselike grip, causing the multitude of thin bangles that crowds her arm to jingle with the movement.
It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in the fortune teller’s tent.
“Sit, sit.” Madame Svetlana gestures to the two chairs in front of a round table covered by a dark tablecloth with a motif of moons and stars. The bangles jingle again, their sound strangely soothing.
“We might as well get this over with,” I murmur, lowering myself in one of the two chairs. I would never admit it, but I feel relieved that Ryker followed me inside. He takes a seat in the chair next to mine, scanning the small, dim tent at the same time.
The space is exactly what I would picture as a fortune teller’s “professional space.” Aside from the round table with the stars and moons tablecloth, the only other decors are a bookshelf laden with ancient looking tomes, an antique trunk behind Madame Svetlana’s chair, and a chandelier with dangling crystals that catch the dim light provided by what must be eco lights.
Madame Svetlana is also the stereotypical fortune teller I’ve seen in countless movies. Her age could be anywhere between fifty and seventy, the woman’s bright red head is partially covered by a head scarf. Giant hoop earrings adorn her ears. The clothes she wears are what I would expect too; a silky black blouse, and a long, flowing dark purple skirt.
However the most striking feature of the fortune teller is her striking dark brown eyes that seem to see deep down in your soul when they’re set on you.
I bet that’s her best asset, she must have practiced that stare to perfection.
“You want to know your future,” it’s not a question.
I don’t tell her that, duh. It doesn’t take any supernatural powers to figure out that everyone who sits opposite her in her tent must want to know what their future holds.
Another thing I don’t tell her is that no, I don’t want to know my future. If she hadn’t practically dragged me in here, I would be looking at the view from the end of the pier right now.
But I keep my mouth shut or we’ll never get out of here. I just wanted to get a silly, three line horoscope from the same place Lakyn got one on her first date with Cash.
Like I was just telling Ryker, I do believe there are things that can’t be explained by science. But this is definitely not one.
“Give me your dominant hand,” Madame Svetlana orders. “Palm up.”
I do as I’m told, slightly amused by the serious expression on her face.
“The lines on your dominant hand,” the fortune teller says. “Say a lot about your present and your future. You’re a hard working, ambitious woman. You’ve already known great success despite your young age and there’s more, far greater potential for growth in the future. But you feel like lately you’ve lost your way. You’re still reeling after a betrayal by someone you loved and trusted.”
I’m surprised by how true her words ring at first, but then my rationality kicks in. I bet something like that can sound true to a lot of people. Madame Svetlana probably offers the same trite words to every unsuspecting tourist gullible enough to be attracted by the promise of knowing what the future has in store.
Now that the summer is over and the tourists are gone, she must be so bored that she’s spewing her trite lines for free.
“Don’t let your fear of being hurt again take over your life. If you open your heart, I see more love than you could ever imagine in your future.”
That sounds nice, but again it’s hardly original. It sounds like a manufactured prediction to make people happy and maybe get them to leave a tip.
“Thank you, Madame.” I smile, trying to take my hand back.
“Madame Svetlana is not done,” the woman’s tone becomes suddenly harsh, as her grip on my hand tightens. “I see something very interesting here.”
Her fingers have been hovering over my palm, following every line as she spoke.
“Very, very unusual,” her fingers touch my palm, her long, red nails tickling my skin.
I can’t help but squirm in the futile attempt not to laugh.
“Sit still!” The fortune teller pulls my hand toward her. “This isn’t a joke. You’re a very peculiar person. Looking at your hand is like looking into a mirror. Two lines that start as one and then separate. It’s hard to explain but I see two lives running parallel. So very similar and yet so very different.”
That’s strange.
I don’t have the time to think about what it might mean, because Ryker beats me to it.
“Could it be because she has a twin sister?”
Madame Svetlana’s dark eyes widen. “That must be it. You started together, sharing your mother’s womb and now you’re like the two sides of a coin.”
Great. Now that Ryker gave her this information, who knows what other absurdity she’s going to come up with.
I suppress an eye roll, but the old lady doesn’t even notice, still staring at my palm as if it was the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.
“Now a lot of things make more sense. You and your twin share a very special bond, despite being opposite.”
A special bond.
Maybe she should change her name from Madame Svetlana to Captain Obvious.
“I see different and yet remarkably similar paths for you and your sister. But one thing is clear, both your lives are dominated by love. The number three is important for both of you. It looks like you’ll both be married three times.”
If I believed that Madame is the real deal, I would ask her if she means three different marriages or if her prediction could mean one marriage but with three men. That could mean that things will work out for Lake, Cash, Blaze and Luca. But what could it mean for me? I don’t plan on getting divorced and married three times.
I decide that this prediction must be some cryptic bullshit, vague enough that it could literally be interpreted in many different ways.
The second Madame Svetlana lets go of my hand, I open my purse to give her a tip. I know she said she would read my fortune for free, but what the hell. Making a living must be hard once the high season ends. Twenty bucks should be enough, right?
“Thank you for your time, Madame,” I say, but the fortune teller shakes her head.
“Wait! Madame Svetlana isn’t done.”
This time I can’t help but roll my eyes. What now? And I wish she stopped referring to herself in the third person.
She opens a small drawer carved into the table, under the tablecloth, and extracts a red suede purse. It looks like a small sack and I half expect her to get some change for my twenty out of that. I’m about to tell her she can keep the twenty, but she shakes the bag, making its contents mix together.
“I sense something else. If you open your heart, your soulmate is already on your path. I’m going to tell you his initials.”
There’s no way she can predict that.
I must admit I’m a little disappointed when the old lady ignores the crystal ball sitting on one side of her round table. That would have totally completed the experience I expected.
Instead, she offers me the bag after loosening the golden string that kept it closed.
“Dip your hand in there and take a token.” She instructs me.
“Oh, I’m sorry, these are stuck together.” I offer her three tiles that are firmly stacked one on top of the other, like a roll of quarters. “Are they magnets?”
Madame Svetlana’s eyes bore into me and a little sly smile curls her lips. “They are not magnets. There must be a reason why they’re stuck together, my dear. Everything happens for a reason. Let’s see now.”
She separates the three square tokens that at a closer inspection look like the pieces of a popular word game.
There must be some kind of trick involved here because she pulls them apart very easily, but when I tried to shake them apart, they felt glued together.
“C, R, J.” Madame Svetlana reads out, setting down each tile on the table in front of me. “This is your soulmate.”
This is ridiculous. “You said that love was already on my path. I don’t know any guy with those three initials.”
There’s triumph in my voice, there’s no way this wannabe fortune teller can find a spin for that.
Her smile widens. “But is it just one man? I said three marriages. Maybe it’s three guys. The runes of love never lie.”
The runes of love might never lie, but since these look suspiciously like the pieces of a word game that has caused countless fights in my family, I doubt they know my future.
Wait a second. C, R, J? Could that stand for Cole, Ryker and Jagger?
Jesus.
If this is a coincidence, it’s not funny. My heart clenches painfully at just the notion that wants to force its way into my head.
This is how fortune tellers make their money; they say stuff that’s vague enough that each of us can find some meaning into it. Our minds are geared to try to explain the unexplainable and to solve riddles. Case in point, I immediately thought about three guys with those initials.
Even wanting to give Madame Svetlana the benefit of the doubt, that prediction isn’t going to come true. It’s impossible.
Cole just sees me as a friend. He isn’t attracted to me to the point that he went out of his way not to kiss me at the Rush Week Fair.
Ryker doesn’t date.
And Jagger… yeah. I don’t even want to think about him right now.
Thanks to Ryker, my night has gotten better and I don’t want to spiral back into the hurt feelings of a couple of hours ago.
I slap the twenty bucks on the table. “Thank you for your time, Madame Svetlana.”
RYKER
C, R, J?
I’m not going to state the obvious, but damn. I don’t have time to think about it too much however—like are we all her soulmates? But how is that possible? She would have to break up with each of us eventually, if she was to marry three times.
Madame Svetlana’s voice snaps me out of my dilemma. “Your turn. I give a free reading to you too, handsome young man.”
I’m about to refuse, but she just called me handsome, so what the hell. Let’s see what the fortune teller has to say.
“Give me your dominant hand, palm up.” She instructs me the same way she did with Bay earlier. “Hmm, interesting.”
I shift in my seat, too curious to wait another second. “What? What do you see?”
The old lady smiles, revealing a gold tooth I hadn’t noticed before. “Sticks and stones. That’s what’s your success is tied to. And ice.”
Bay snorts next to me, rolling her eyes.
“I see huge success in your future, but happiness?” the fortune teller’s intense eyes look at me as if they could see deep into my soul. “Happiness is a different matter. It’s right there, ready for you to grab it. There’s only one thing you’re missing in order to have it.”
I can’t help my curiosity. “What is it?”
“You’ve been betrayed before too, like your pretty friend. Since then, you’ve closed your heart to love. You need to learn to trust again.”
Easier said than done. “Yeah, that doesn’t come naturally to me, especially these days. Like you said, I’ve been burned before.”
To my surprise, Madame Svetlana shakes her head. “I’m not talking about others. You have to trust yourself and your instincts. Trust your heart and don’t be selfish. Possessiveness and distrust are the things that could get in the way of your happiness.”
The prediction hits home more than I would like to admit. It’s true that since the scandal that ruined my college career in South Carolina, I have been blaming myself. I should have seen the coach’s daughter’s manipulative schemes from miles away.
That’s why I made that resolution to stick to hockey until graduation, avoiding any emotional involvement with anyone. “You say to trust myself,” I ask. “What about possessiveness? What does that have to do with anything?”
The fortune teller drops my hand. “Madame Svetlana gives you predictions. They’re intended as guidance. It’s up to you to choose the right path. Now, choose a love rune.”
She offers me the same bag she gave Bay earlier and I dip my fingers in it.
Like in Bay’s case, two tiles seem stuck together and like before, the old lady has no problem separating them.
“B, W.” She says, setting the runes on the table. “These are the initials of your soul mate.”
Motherfucker.
I’m too shocked to even think straight right now. I shift in my chair to grab my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans.
“No,” Madame Svetlana shakes her head in that dramatic way that must be her signature move. “Madame Svetlana said these predictions are on the house. Your money is no good here tonight. Now go, you were my last customers. We’re closed.”
We’re thrown out of the fortune teller’s tent as abruptly as we were ushered in earlier.
The night seems to have become much darker in the few minutes we were with Madame Svetlana. I realize that the wind has picked up, gathering clouds that are obscuring the moon and the few stars that are visible even with the light pollution on the pier.
“That was weird.” I say.
Bay reacts with a visible shudder. I have to wonder if it’s a physical reaction due to the slight drop in temperature, or if she’s thinking about the predictions she just got.
“Yeah. I bet she’s seen my driver’s license when I opened my wallet, that’s why you drew my initials.”
I don’t voice any of my objections to her theory. Like, even if she had seen her driver’s license, how could she make sure I drew the right letters from that pouch? And what about her drawing those three initials?
“You’re probably right.” I don’t want to get into a fight with Bay right now. She’s obviously in denial and nothing good will come from antagonizing her.
I think that’s why she and I started on shaky ground. Deep down, we’re very logical people and we need time to process things we don’t understand.
“Let’s go to the end of the pier,” she says, eager to move on from talks of destiny and soulmates. “The view from there is worth it.”
Again, I don’t argue with her. I don’t tell her that with all the clouds that are blanketing the night sky, we probably won’t see much.
The truth is that I’m not ready to take her back to the Gamma house. I don’t want this night to end. Not yet at least.
We’re halfway to the end of the pier when the first drop of rain hits the back of my hand.
Another one falls on my shoulder and in a matter of a few seconds the skies open and we’re pelted by the most violent downpour I’ve ever seen.
“Shit,” I grab Bay’s hand. “Let’s find some shelter.”
We take off running, but all the shops and restaurants in this section of the pier seem to be closed.
“We’re already soaked.” Bay laughs as I pull her into the arched entryway to an ice cream shop.
The place is closed too, but the small arch above the door provides partial respite from the pouring rain.
I take a step closer, until Bay’s back meets the ice cream shop’s door. My back is still getting pelted, but at least she’s out of the rain. “You’re all wet,” I say, tucking a strand of wet hair that has escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “And I didn’t even have to try.”
There’s amusement in Bay’s eyes. “The rain beat you to it. I had no idea that your mind was in the gutter, Ryker.”
“With you?” I chuckle leaning closer, so that my lips are just a breath away from hers. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the second I saw you for the first time, Cinnamon. And after I got to kiss you at that stupid party? I haven’t been able to think about anything else.”
Those perfect pink lips curl in a soft smile. “Really? I thought about that too.”
I don’t even know who closes the distance between us, but the second our lips touch we ignite like a wildfire.
There’s nothing sweet or gentle about our kiss, our lips collide over and over with bruising intensity. I want to breathe her in, taste her, consume her.
When I nip her bottom lip, she opens for me and when our tongues tangle, something inside me snaps.
I want, no I need more.
My hands cup her perfect tits and I massage, her nipples already hard under the wet fabric of her thin sweater.
I’m not gentle as I grind my hips into hers, barely resisting the urge to rip her clothes off right here and now.
The delicate skin of the column of her neck is an invitation I can’t resist when Bay arches into my body, seeking more contact.
I kiss and nip my way down to her collarbone, kissing and sucking in a way that I know will leave a mark.
Good. Satisfaction swells in my chest at the idea of her seeing those marks tomorrow and thinking about me.
I want to live rent free in her head, just like she has in mine since she left me high and dry in that aircraft bathroom.
“Ryker.”
The sound of my name on her lips makes me reach fever pitch. I want to hear that sound again, it’s like I’m addicted to it.
I forget that we’re outside, pressed against a door while a fall storm rages all around us.
My hands leave her tits to skim down her slender waist and her shapely hips.
Thank fuck for skirts. Whoever invented them has my undying gratitude.
The skin of her thighs is smooth and soft but my target is a little higher.
I move the lace of her panties to the side, pressing two fingers against the bare skin of her slit.
“Hmm,” I murmur, parting her skin and finding her clit. “You’re soaking wet, Bay.”
It’s her turn to nip at my lips. “And it’s not because of the rain.”
Satisfied by her admission, I reward her with a couple of light, lazy circles around her clit. “I’m not sorry about it.”
She shakes her head, playing with the short hair at the nape of my neck. “Me neither.”
That’s all the encouragement I need to increase the pressure on her most sensitive spot. But soon that’s not enough. My fingers find no resistance when they reach down to her entrance. I slide two fingers inside her warmth, thrusting them in and out, making sure I keep hitting her clit with the heel of my hand.
“Oh my God, Ryker,” she pants, bucking her hips to get more contact.
I know she’s close when her body tenses up against mine. “Let go, Bay. Come for me.”
She doesn’t let me ask twice. Her inner walls squeeze my fingers in a viselike grip and I can’t help but wish it was another part of me to experience this.
“Ryker,” she pulls me in for a deep, passionate kiss. “That was…”
Bay’s hands leave my neck, traveling down to my chest and stomach, feeling the taut muscles under my wet t-shirt.
“You’re so hard.” Her tone is winded, almost breathless.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I groan as she traces my erection through my jeans.
“I want to know.”
Her fingers pop the button in my jeans and that snaps me out of it. “No,” I say, ignoring the way my cock is screaming at me. “I want you so fucking much, Cinnamon. But not like this. Not out here.”
“Oh,” Bay lowers her gaze, beginning to shut down in that way of hers whenever she feels rejected.
“Come home with me, please.” I say, bringing her knuckles to my lips. “When I get to be inside of you, I don’t want to rush. I don’t want to worry about anyone seeing us. I want to enjoy every second. Come home with me, Cinnamon.”
“Yes.” She nods.
It’s fucking official, that’s my new favorite word.
“Let’s go, the rain has eased enough that we can at least see our way back to my car.”
We walk back down the now deserted pier without a word, but I don’t let go of her hand.
If she changed her mind now, I’d be even more disappointed than after the ass kicking we got tonight on the ice.
I open the car door for Bay, helping her into my SUV and running around to the driver’s seat quicker than when I’m on a breakaway.
The second I close my car door, Bay leans toward me. “No,” I stop her, entering the ignition code. “If we kiss now, we’re not going to make it home.”
She giggles. “Would that be so bad? There’s no one else in this parking lot.”
“I’m tempted, believe me, Bay. But my house is five minutes away. And I want you completely naked. In my bed. I want to kiss every inch of your skin and take my time with you.”
Her smile widens. “That sounds better than doing it in the car.”
“Good girl,” I smile, peeling out of the parking lot as if I had the devil on my heels. “I promise you won’t regret it.”