Tarot Academy 4 - Sarah Piper Page 0,56

matter what I say or do, she’ll always be there. I can talk all the shit I want, threaten her when she’s practically in a coma. Yeah, real big man, right? But when it comes down to it, I’ll never be whole—that’s how it feels. And not even you can fix that, Stevie.”

“Baz, I don’t… Goddess. I know you guys think I want to fix you—like maybe I have all this Star magick to make everything okay again. But the truth is, I can’t take away your pain. I can’t go back in time and undo all the horrible things Janelle did to you, or the things your parents did before that. And I’m damn well not going to tell you how to feel about it. But I will tell you this.” She steps back and cups my face, gently tilting it up toward hers, and even though I keep my eyes closed, I feel her gaze on me, warm and kind, full of love.

“When I look at you,” she says softly, “when I feel your heartbeat, when I taste your kiss, when you hold me close, when I see you fight for your brothers, when I think of everything we’ve shared together… I don’t see weakness. The man standing before me now? He’s a fucking warrior, Baz Redgrave. And if you don’t believe that yet, I’m just going to have to keep the faith for the both of us.”

Behind my closed lids, tears gather, my throat tight, my heart damn near exploding. Stevie’s the empath here, but at her words, her touch, I feel her love wrap around me and sink in deep, filling all the cold and empty spaces inside me.

Sharing this story, making this confession… It hollowed me out inside. But by some miracle, she’s managed to fill me back up again, just by being Stevie. Just by being the woman I love. Just by being my Little Bird.

And here, beneath the blaze-orange Arizona sky, I finally find the strength to look at her. Hell, maybe it’s not even my strength—maybe it’s all hers, borrowed by a broken man who may never fully heal. But maybe some part of that warrior she sees is still here too. Maybe we can co-exist, he and I. Starting right now.

Her eyes shine with emotion, and I take her face in my hands, holding it like it’s the most precious gift, marveling at the impossibility of it all. Billions of souls in this world, thousands of lifetimes into which she could’ve come to this earth, and she chose now. She chose us. She chose me.

“I love you, Starla Milan,” I whisper. “You’re my light. My heart. My goddess. And I promise you, I’ll spend the rest of my life—”

“Okay, could this get any more disgusting?” Carly barges into our perfect moment like a cold rain, standing on the back deck and glaring at us, her nose wrinkled, arms crossed, hip jutting out, her eyes about five seconds from rolling right out of her damn head. “Seriously. I think I’ve just lost my appetite.”

Stevie cracks up, the last of the fading sun setting her eyes on fire, and in that moment, not even Carly’s bad timing and badder attitude can ruin things.

“Can we help you, Carly?” I ask, but there’s no malice there. Only friendship. Only gratitude. Only the possibility that comes from finally being honest with the people I care about and living to tell the tale.

Despite her mock sneer, I suspect Carly senses it too. New beginnings. Potential. And dare I say… hope.

“Isla asked me to tell you dinner’s ready,” Carly says. “She cooked her Nana’s jerk chicken. Apparently it’s the—and I quote—bomb dot com. I mean, who even says that? Honestly.”

Keeping my gaze locked on Stevie’s, I grin and say, “You tell Isla to save us some leftovers. Stevie and I have plans tonight.” I lean in close and whisper the rest, just for my girl. “Disgusting ones.”

Twenty

STEVIE

Baz and I never do make it to dinner—not even for the leftovers, or for Professor Broome’s famous Prosperity Cake, or for the signature cocktails Carly and Nat created to compliment the whole meal.

Hours after our backyard reunion, we’re still lying together in the darkness of my Red Sands bedroom, moonlight caressing our bare skin as we gaze into each other’s eyes, fingers trailing softly over dips and curves, kisses lingering.

Tonight isn’t about recreating all the crazy, passionate moments we’ve already shared—moments that will be waiting for us whenever we’re ready. It’s