I wait for her to push my hand away from the nape of her neck.

I get no reaction from her. Nothing. Which means I get everything.

I keep my hand on her back as I slowly step around her. I’m standing between her and the window now, but she keeps her eyes focused on the ground. She doesn’t look up at me, because I know she doesn’t like to feel weak. And right now, I’m making her weak. I bring my free hand to her chin and graze my fingers up her jaw, tilting her face to mine.

When we lock eyes, I feel like I’m meeting a brand new side of her. A side of her without resolve. A vulnerable side. A side that’s allowing herself to feel something. I want to grin and ask her how it feels to be in love, but I know teasing her in this moment would piss her off and she’d walk away and I can’t let that happen. Not right now. Not when I finally get to catalog an actual memory with all the numerous fantasies I’ve had about her mouth.

Her tongue slides across her bottom lip, causing jealousy to flutter through me, because I really wanted to be the one to do that to her lip.

In fact…I think I will.

I begin to dip my head, just as she presses her hands against my forearms. “Look,” she says, pointing at the building next door. The flickering light has stolen her attention and I want to curse the universe for the simple fact that a light bulb just interfered with what was about to become my absolute favorite of very few memories.

I follow her gaze to a sign that doesn’t look any different from all of the other Tarot signs we’ve passed. The only thing different about this one is it just completely ruined my moment. And dammit, it was a good moment. A great one. One I know Charlie was also feeling, and I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get back to that.

She’s walking in the direction of the shop now. I follow behind her like a lovesick puppy.

The building is unmarked and it makes me wonder what it was about the unreliable, asshole-lighting that drew her away from my mouth. The only words indicating this is even a store are the “No Cameras” signs plastered on every blackened window.

Charlie puts her hands on the door and pushes it open. I follow her inside and we’re soon standing in what looks like the center of a touristy voodoo gift shop. There’s a man standing behind a register and a few people browsing the aisles.

I try to take everything in as I follow Charlie through the store. She fingers everything, touching the stones, the bones, the jars of miniature voodoo dolls. We silently make our way down each aisle until we reach the back wall. Charlie stops short, grabs my hand and points at a picture on the wall. “That gate,” she says. “You took a picture of that gate. It’s the one hanging on my wall.”

“Can I help you?”

We both spin around and a large—really large—man with gauged ears and a lip ring is staring down at us.

I kind of want to apologize to him and leave as fast as we can, but Charlie has other plans. “Do you know what this gate is guarding? The one in the picture?” Charlie asks him, pointing over her shoulder. The man’s eyes lift to the picture frame. He shrugs.

“Must be new,” he says. “I’ve never noticed it before.” He looks at me, arching an eyebrow adorned with multiple piercings. One being a small…bone? Is that a bone sticking through his eyebrow? “You two looking for anything in particular?”

I shake my head and begin to respond, but my words are cut off by someone else’s.

“They’re here to see me.” A hand reaches through a beaded curtain to our right. A woman steps out, and Charlie immediately sidles against me. I wrap my arm around her. I don’t know why she’s allowing this place to freak her out. She doesn’t seem like the type to believe in this sort of thing, but I’m not complaining. A frightened Charlie means a very lucky Silas.

“This way,” the woman says, motioning for us to follow her. I start to object, but then remind myself that places like this…they’re all about theatrics. It’s Halloween 365 days a year. She’s just playing a part. She’s no different than Charlie and me, pretending to be two people we aren’t.

Charlie glances up at me, silently asking for permission to follow her. I nod and we follow the woman through the curtain of—I touch one of the beads and take a closer look—plastic skulls. Nice touch.

The room is small and every wall is covered with thick, velvet black curtains. There are candles lit around the room, flickers of light licking the walls, the floor, us. The woman takes a seat at a small table in the center of the room for us to sit in the two chairs across from her. I keep Charlie’s hand wrapped tightly in mine as we both sit.

The woman begins to slowly shuffle a deck of tarot cards. “A joint reading, I assume?” she asks.

We both nod. She hands Charlie the deck and asks her to hold them. Charlie takes them from her and clasps her hands around them. The woman nudges her head toward me. “Both of you. Hold them.”

I want to roll my eyes, but instead I reach my hand across Charlie and place it on the deck with her.

“You need to want the same thing out of this reading. Multiple readings can sometimes overlap when there isn’t cohesiveness. It’s important your goal is the same.”

Charlie nods. “They are. It is.”

I hate the desperation in her voice, like we’re actually going to get an answer. Surely she doesn’t believe this.

The woman reaches across to take the cards from our hands. Her fingers brush mine and they’re ice cold. I pull my hand back and grab Charlie’s, moving it onto my lap.