Blake quirks an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I got something off of him when we first met—you’ve known him a long time, right?”
“I thought you couldn’t read stuff about me?” Blake says, his voice a bit tighter than before.
“I can’t—but when I shook Aiden’s hand, I got snippets. He must have been thinking about it,” I say.
“What kind of snippets?” Blake asks, his eyes wide.
I blink fast, trying to recall.
“Uh—something about him being little. He lost his parents, too, right? A car accident—but you stepped in even though you were trying to work your way up the Special Forces ranks,” I say, biting my lip.
He narrows his eyes, giving me a once over.
“You’re shitting me, right? This is some sort of a joke?” he says, shifting back a bit.
“No,” I say, shaking my head, “why would you think that?”
“Did he put you up to this?”
“You asked me to sit down with you, remember? How the hell would Aiden put me up to anything?” I say, suspicion arising.
Blakes lips press into a thin line as he shifts away from me, facing the other side of the booth instead of looking at me. His face flits back and forth through myriad expressions until he finally stops and twists back around to me.
“You’re telling me you picked all that up from shaking his hand?”
I roll my eyes.
“Duh. Psychic, remember?” I say, pointing at my head for effect.
“I—I gotta go. Thanks for the talk, Diana. I’ll see you around,” he says, shifting out of the booth and out of the door before I even have time to process what’s happening.
Shifting in my seat, I press my back into the booth.
What in the hell just happened?
“Sure know how to freak a guy out, eh?” Max says, wandering over to the booth. He grabs Blake’s cup, and wipes up his spot with a wet rag.
I turn and glare at him. Something in his smug grin makes me snap.
“Your girlfriend’s cheating on you with the mailman,” I blurt out, downing the rest of my mocha.
I’ve known for ages, but it’s none of my damn business. I guess now I don’t care.
Max steps back, eyes wide with panic.
I push past him and walk out the door before the backlash of questions can hit. Glancing up and down the street, Blake is nowhere to be seen—so I walk back to the shop on my own.
Why would it matter if I knew about Aiden’s parents or the way he gave up his military life? And besides, why is it a shock to Blake? It’s not like I hide being psychic. What in the hell gives?
Opening the door, the ding of the bell pisses me right off.
“Who the hell installed that stupid bell?” I say, glaring at Ren as I walk in the door.
Ren’s face goes from borderline bored to “oh-shit” in under a second.
“Uh-oh. Things not go so good with Mr. Tight Pants?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Ugh. Shut up, would you? And do something about that damn bell.”
I head straight into my reading room and slam the door.
“What the fu—” I groan, walking to the back door. I place my head on the window with a thud.
I’m so stupid. Honestly, it’s not like I haven’t learned in all these years—but something about Blake let me relax a bit and open up. And why? To be bitten in the ass again?
Stupid, Diana. What a naive, idiotic move.
Ren knocks on the door. As it opens, he waves a white handkerchief from the crack.
I roll my eyes and take a deep breath.
“What do you want, Ren?” I say, walking to my desk and sitting down.
“Wanna tell me what happened?” he says, walking in the room tentatively.
“If I knew, I’d tell you. I honestly have no idea.”
Renaldo grabs the chair from my reading table, dragging it over to my desk.
“He didn’t try anything funny, did he?” Ren says, crossing his arms over his chest, and going all protective.
“In a coffee shop?” I shoot him a look from under my eyebrows.
He shrugs, “You never know. Stranger things have happened.”
“True.”
I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from combusting. For a moment, a simple, strange, beautiful moment—I felt like I was connecting with someone. Not through my gifts, not with the knowledge they placed in my head—but in the normal, ordinary, blissfully human way. Person to person.
“I thought—I actually thought things were going okay.”
I drop my head to my hands, raking my fingertips through my hair as it falls forward.
“So, what then?” Ren asks. “Did you piss him off? I mean, not that you would—okay, maybe you would, but—”
“I told him about something I picked up at his house. An impression about him through his adopted son, Aiden. That was all. I mean, it’s not like he—”
“So ya wigged him the eff out, huh?”
Renaldo raises his eyebrows, casting a “knowing” look my way.
“How? I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been upfront about the whole thing from the start. For Godsakes, it’s how we got put in each other’s way in the first place. He needed my help.”
“Did he really?”
“Oh, would you stop with the cryptic? Just spit out what you want to say,” I say, frowning.
“Well, mkay—here’s the thing—and you know this better than anyone, but I’m guessing your emotions are starting to muddy the waters. You freaked him out because he wants to believe you. It’s pretty damn obviously there’s a vibe going between the two of you—and if ya wanted, it might go flammable. But my guess is—as much as he wants to believe you, he sorta doesn’t either. Am I right?”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
“My abilities—they don’t work right when I’m around him.”
Ren shifts in his chair, his mouth popping open.
“And you’re only telling me now? When did you first learn this?”
“I don’t know—the first night, I guess. I didn’t know what to make of it. It’s never happened before.”
“Well, no wonder. The man didn’t really give ya much
