“Nope, just browning this meat to add to the sauce, and then I’ll layer the lasagna, and the food should be ready within the hour. That should be enough time for you to tell me whatever itis that has that line across your forehead. How do you take your tea?”
Automatically, I reached up to touch my forehead. Damn it, therewasa line there. It must be because I furrowed my brow when I was concerned.
“Um, milk and light sugar. Thanks.” I accepted the cup of tea he offered and smiled faintly at him. This was a touch too surreal. Last week I was hiding in a dodgy hotel room wondering what to do with my life. This week I had a purpose. Direction. And the possibility of new friends who had simply…accepted me.Welcomed me.
At least Mercury wasn’t in retrograde. Because this new moon was mooning hard.
I closed my eyes.
Duh. This wasn’t just a new moon. Uranus was transiting my first house. Of course this was all happening at once. I’d known it would all happen at once. I’d done my chart for the year, hadn’t I? I knew big changes were coming.
But that was the thing about knowing and preparing, wasn’t it? I’d known something big was coming. The problem was, I hadn’t done anything to prepare for it. Instead, I’d kept myself too busy, buried my head in the sand, and when everything had boiled over, I didn’t have a backup plan in place.
As I was about to mentally berate myself, yet again, for feeling like a constant failure, a funny thing happened. Something tugged in my chest, and I reached up to rub my solar plexus, remembering how Sophie had done the same earlier that day.
“Reach for your power. You’ll feel it.”
Light bloomed softly inside me, gentle and soothing, a soft wash of water on a pink sand beach as the sun set in the distance.
Maybe I hadn’t needed a backup plan because I was exactly where I needed to be.
It was such a startling thought that I plopped down into a chair and took a bracing sip of tea as an entirely new perspective entered the game.
“You have the most expressive face.”
I glanced up in surprise to see Torin watching me from where he layered the lasagna in a casserole dish on the counter.
“I’m sorry. Just woolgathering. It’s been a day.”
“Tell me about it?”
“First, tell me why you no longer care what Loren Brae thinks. What did you mean?”
Torin reached in the fridge and pulled out a Guinness. Popping it open, he upended the can into a pint glass and let it sit like that until it emptied, and then took the can out and brought his glass to the table. Letting the beer settle, he sat and steepled his fingers on the table in front of me.
I gasped at the long cut on his finger.
“Torin! You’re hurt. Och, let me put something on that.” I stood up and reached for his hand, turning so I could see the cut on his palm. It was red and angry, and looked like something was buried in the skin. “Is this a sliver? Shouldn’t you be wearing gloves?”
“Och, it’s nothing, lass.” Torin tried to tug his hand back, but I pursed my lips and kept his hand in mine, studying the wound. “Be right back.”
Dropping his hand, I went and grabbed my first aid kit that I always kept well stocked. Being a classic Pisces, I frequently hurt myself due to constant distraction, and I’d learned to patch myself up through the years. Returning to the main room, I took Torin’s hand and cleaned the wound and then held his palm closer to my face.
“I think there’s something in here.”
“It’s a sliver.”
“It needs to come out.”
“Och, it will work itself out eventually.”
“But why wait? Doesn’t it hurt?”
“It’s annoying, but it’s fine.”
I tilted my head to look at Torin. Was he really just happy to live with discomfort? His face was so close I could kiss him again, and my pulse kicked up.
“Will you let me take this out?”