Tarot Academy 4 - Sarah Piper Page 0,14

mirror image of my own emotional torment.

I lean against the wall of my new bedroom, my heart aching with every beat. Since we found Ani half-conscious in my suite, Doc and I have been like the tides on the shore—racing toward each other in a breathless rush, only to recede again, growing further apart with each passing wave.

Despite all the confusion and mixed signals, despite the uncertainty of Ani’s situation and the mystery of what lies ahead, it’s my tortured, enigmatic professor I seek out now, when I’ve run out of floors to pace and worries to ponder.

It’s him I seek out now, when I need the firm challenge of his rules and regulations on a night when I’m in danger of becoming completely unmoored.

It’s him I seek out now, hoping—despite everything—he might bend those rules for me even once, giving himself over to the passion burning behind his every distant, measured word.

I miss him. I need him. Whatever we are to each other, whatever our future holds, I know it isn’t this—two Arcana blessed souls passing like ships in the night, refusing to acknowledge their feelings.

Or act on them.

“This is bullshit,” I mutter. “And it ends tonight.”

Dressed in a long button-down flannel and the hoodie Baz gave me the night he saved me from the river, I pad down the hallway to Doc’s room, determined to lay it all out, once and for all.

His door is ajar, and I push it open another crack, peering into the darkness. The lights are off and the room is dead silent, but the antique iron bed is unoccupied, the pillows and comforter undisturbed.

“Doc?” I whisper. “You in here?”

I feel him before I see him, the warm rush of his energy caressing my skin—happiness that I’m here. Affection. Desire. Concern.

“Has there been a change?” he asks. “Is he awake?”

I follow the sound of his voice to the big window that overlooks the sprawling backyard, my eyes finally picking out the dark shape of him before the glass. He’s still wearing his usual dress pants, but now he’s shirtless, his muscular arms and shoulders limned in moonlight.

“No change,” I say, following the lines down to his hips, where the pants hang low and inviting. “Professor Broome said the sedative she made will keep him unconscious a few more days. She’s hoping it will give his body more time to heal while his soul tries to come back.”

Doc turns from the window to face me, his features lost in shadow. He pauses a beat, then finally sighs. “Come in, Stevie.”

I do as he asks, closing the door behind me. Alone in the dark once again, I’m reminded of his other bedroom back on campus, the closeness we shared before Harvest Eve dinner. How is it possible it was only several hours ago? Goddess, it seems like another lifetime.

I wait a moment for my eyes to fully adjust, then join him by the window, looking out across the backyard. The house is part of a larger neighborhood owned by Arcana Academy, but this one is set further back, tucked into the shadows away from the other homes. Outside, the desert scrub stretches on forever, the saguaros turned deep blue in the moonlight. For a moment, I allow myself to think of home.

Talk about another lifetime…

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, the scent of whiskey lingering on his breath.

I press my finger to the windowpane, tracing an outline of the tallest saguaro. Goddess, I told myself I’d be strong. That I’d keep my shit together, at least until we got Ani back from the realm. But Doc’s soft voice, his concerned energy, the constant push-and-pull between us… It’s all too much.

“I’m barely holding on, Doc,” I admit.

The tide surges, and he’s close again, reaching out for me, drawing me into his impossibly strong embrace, pressing his lips to the top of my head. Warmth floods my limbs, and I let myself go boneless as I lean into him, trusting the smooth, strong planes of his chest. Trusting that he won’t let me fall.

“Tell me how to make this better for you,” he says, rubbing my back. “I see your pain—I can feel it. All I want to do is take it away from you.”

A thousand answers come to mind—then tell me how you really feel, let me in, kiss me, invite me into your bed tonight—but I don’t dare voice them. Not even when he tightens his hold and the heat surges between us, unleashing a flood