Prologue
Reagan Harper
“Shit! I told you we needed to bring the umbrella,” my best friend Josie bitches as we both scurry into the nearest festival tent.
“It wasn’t even cloudy when we left!” I argue, trying to sop up the water dripping from my soggy face. I’m not the typical girl who shies away from walking outside in the rain. Unlike Josie, you’ll never see me wearing makeup or fixing my hair, so I usually don’t mind getting caught up in nature’s showers, but the heavy downpour we just escaped was even too much for me to endure.
“Hello, ladies.”
Josie and I both turn our heads when a woman’s raspy voice greets us. I couldn’t have created a more stereotypical psychic than the red-headed one seated at a small, round table. And, wow, I freaking love her authentic-looking burgundy dress with a bustier and black laces. As soon as I see the crystal ball, I practically clap my hands in excitement. So what if I’m into horoscopes and tarot card readings? It’s not like I take it all seriously. Most of the time.
“Hi,” Josie replies hesitantly. Oh jeez, she’s gonna open her mouth and insult this poor woman in 3…2…
“I’m Madam Tess. Care for a free spiritual reading?” the psychic asks.
“Heck yes,” I say quickly to stop Josie’s insult before taking a seat on the empty stool across from Madam Tess. After tossing my damp, stick straight hair over my shoulder, I’m ready to hear my future. Just for fun, of course.
“Your hands, my dear,” the woman says, so I give her both of my palms facing up. I’ve seen a psychic a time or two, but it’s not like I practice witchcraft or anything.
“Ah, you have a bright and generous aura,” Madam Tess says, her eyes staring down at my hands. “Pure of spirit.”
I smile at those positive characteristics, wondering if she’ll tell Josie she has a stick up her ass. God, that would be hilarious. If I had known a psychic was gonna be here, I would’ve set something up with her beforehand. My humor quickly fades though when Madam Tess digs a little deeper.
“Losing a loved one suddenly when you were young has made you too cautious with your heart.”
Just like always, the thought of my dad causes the invisible boa constrictor around my chest to nearly squeeze the life out of me. When I was eleven, my father died suddenly of a heart attack. He was only forty, just starting the best years of his life, and I still miss him so much it hurts every single day. Even worse, my mom fell apart after we lost him.
“You will find true love soon, just as you turn a new corner in your life,” Madam Tess tells me, and my ears perk up. Isn’t that what all women want? To find their true love and be whisked away into a happily ever after with Prince Charming? The current prince in my dreams just so happens to make suspenders look hot, and he’s so out of my league that he falls one hundred percent on the never-gonna-fucking-happen list. Even if he knew I existed, a relationship with him would be forbidden; and, unfortunately, I have always been a rule follower right down to the T.
Realizing Madam Tess is done with my reading, I give her a quick “Thank you,” before standing up on shaky legs. So what if I can’t have the hottest man alive. I’m gonna find my true love soon, and that’s good enough for me.
Chapter One
Reagan
One week later…
“So, how’s it going? Ready for exams? Drank the potion yet?” Josie asks when she strolls into my apartment, trying to act all nonchalant before flopping down into my Papasan chair.
It’s gonna be so much fun to fuck with her.
“Ah, it’s going good,” I tell her, drawing it out. “There’s a week of class to go before exams, and what do you mean, have I drank the potion?”
“I mean, you’re gonna drink it, right?” she asks.
“Didn’t you say you don’t believe in that ‘mumbo jumbo’?” I ask, tossing my hair over my shoulder.
“Um, well, I didn’t, but now Lawson and I are together, and it’s…perfect, and he thinks it’s better to be safe than sorry, you know?” She’s rambling, which tells me that she’s freaking out. Good.
“Huh,” I mutter with a shrug of my shoulders, and then I just stare at her, waiting.
“So, you gonna drink it?” she asks in a huff.
“Can’t. I lost it,” I lie, hopefully convincingly. I’m a horrible