Tarot: the Fool- Paranormal M/M Romance

Chapter Sixteen

Zin

Before long, my first public reading event had come and gone. Many of the people who came were mostly curious, and didn't actually stay for a reading. But even those brought in money for David, because most stopped for a coffee or treat before they left.

The little set-up Ben had put together was sweet. A simple table with a dark maroon tablecloth, complete with a small purple lamp and a tip jar. He told me, if things went well and this became a regular thing, he would work on presentation.

"As long as I don't have to wear a costume," I told him.

Most of my readings were simple. Housewives asking about their love lives, their spouse's job, any upcoming personal news. I told a few about smart career moves their spouses could make, ones they could make (if they worked— which it seemed very few women in this town did). I told one woman she was pregnant— and she ran out to buy a pregnancy test, coming back an hour later to wrap me in a hug that made my skin crawl.

God I hated being touched by strangers. Especially when it was so sudden. But I patted her back and smiled what I hoped was a convincing smile back at her while she chattered on about how long she and her husband had been trying for a baby.

I refrained from telling the woman with the small eyes and pointed chin that her fiancé was, in fact, cheating on her, because there was practically a damn audience when she asked. But I did manage to slip her a note when she left, praying that one didn't come back to bite me in the ass.

I couldn't even count how many women had come back upset when they confronted their spouse, boyfriend, girlfriend, partner, whatever, and they denied that they were cheating. So they came back to me to tell me how very wrong I had been.

Or worse: the cheater coming to show me how much they appreciated being outed.

I made almost $500 dollars in tips, which shocked and almost horrified me. I had never made $500 in a day, unless I was selling far more than my clairvoyant mind, and even then $500 would have been hours of... work. I wanted to give it all to David, for the food, shelter, and clothes he had given me, but he adamantly refused to take any of it.

He also paid me for the whole time, as if I was working for the shop.

The man was frustratingly stubborn.

And dammit, I kept falling further with each day I spent sleeping in his bed—because the damn stubborn man still refused to take his bed back. I was almost completely healed, hearty and healthy, and he wouldn't let me sleep on the couch. He made me breakfast and lunch, and only let me make us dinner every couple of days. He watched me to be sure I didn't tire myself lifting the heavy boxes of books, and repeatedly took them from me if he deemed them too big or heavy for me. He brought me treats throughout the day, little gifts I found next to the stool I sat on to ring out customers, tucked into the books I was reading, or just given to me in passing.

I had never been taken care of... cared for... like this before.

And yet, he wouldn't meet my eyes when we were alone. Wouldn't let me touch him beyond casual, passing flickers of fingers. Wouldn't let me care for him in return.

Each time I tried, I was met with a cold shoulder, a lack of emotion that I knew was hiding something he didn't want me to see he felt.

Damn stubborn man.

I'll admit I egged his jealousy on a bit. I didn't question my instant connection with Ryder. It was familial, rather than romantic or sexual, for both of us, and we wordlessly knew that. I could sense Ryder's love for Ben, and I knew he would never look at me that way. And I didn't feel that way about him. But our connection was... strong, to say the least. He calmed me like only David could. But David wouldn't touch me.

So I got my calming touches from Ryder.

And it angered David more and more each day.

Once Ben and Noah noticed, they were all for joining in on the "make David jealous plan"— as Ben so eloquently put. I politely told them to back off, but then they told me about Ryder's one-on-one self-defense lessons with Noah, and I couldn't help but be intrigued.

Not to make David jealous by spending even more time with Ryder, as was their intent.

But to learn to hit back when someone used my face to polish their knuckles? Hell yes I was in.

I was a little confused by Ben's easy acceptance of my relationship with Ryder, but he reassured me he felt nothing for the man (liar), and that he did understand what I explained to him— about Ryder's calming aura.

And he even understood the touching, and I sensed no deceit or jealousy from him when he saw us together, so I believed him on that point. 

Which made me wonder, if he understood so well, how he was able to refrain from ever touching Ryder. Because the two were like oil and water— they steered far clear of each other. 

Ryder agreed easily enough to my request. The man barely spoke 5 words to me a day, but his "yes, of course," when I asked him to teach me self defense was filled with affection and I basked in it. And his grunt of denial when I told him I would pay him for his time was gentle but firm.

A guy could get used to someone like Ryder— steady, calm, warm. And yet big and mean enough to help fight off your nightmares.

But no. I had to fall for stubborn, growly, and cold.

Go figure.

My first love would be someone who wouldn't want me, not because I was a freak, a former street kid, prostitute, thief, you name it— but because he was too damn noble to take what he wanted.

David was even easier to convince, but his reaction hurt more than Ryder's.

When I asked him if he would be alright with me not eating dinner with him that night, he got quiet, watchful, and his expression completely closed off.

"Where you going?" he asked, a little twitch at the corner of his left eye the only sign he was even remotely disturbed.

Damn Ben and Noah's stupid idea that he would be jealous. No, I didn't see any jealousy. Only calm apathy. I could all but see him planning what to do with all his free time without me there.

"Out..." I began, flinching when I felt his eyes boring into my skin. "With Ryder. I wanted to make sure you were ok with it, before I—"

"—Zin," he cut in, amusement lacing his words. He stood from his perch on the stool, moving so I could take his place, before turning to the back of the store, where he had been unloading the new inventory before I had interrupted him, asking to talk to him. "You don't have to ask permission. You don't belong to me."

The sting in my chest, tightening my airways, made me take a step back and turn away.

I should be grateful for his words. For all of the times Lyle had claimed ownership over me, I should be glad David wouldn't stoop to the same level.

But I wasn't. I wanted... I wanted to belong to him.

"I want to," I whispered, so quietly I knew he couldn't hear me, before clutching my chest, sitting on the stool, and praying no customers came in anytime soon to remark on my probably blotchy, pale skin and soppy wet eyes.