No matter how hard I try, my gaze will not budge from the sight of Logan’s stomach muscles crunched together or the curve of his biceps against his chest. The light shines across his brown skin with a warm glow, and his lips part just enough for him to breathe—just enough to drive me crazy. I pour my eyes over Logan St. Genstead and I want to tackle him where he sits. I want to rip off his gym shorts and press my skin against his until we both sweat through the sheets. Instead, I push my glasses farther up the bridge of my nose and try to take a deep breath.

“You’re staring again,” Logan says, peeking at me through one open eye.

“Was I?” My ears flash with heat.

“You know, it’s hard to meditate with an audience.”

“Then in the future you should be sure to meditate with a shirt on.”

Logan laughs, his white smile gleaming as brightly as his brown eyes. A small rocket ship blasts off somewhere deep inside of me, flooding my brain with thrust and smoke. I try breathing again.

“Well, I cleared my head enough to come up with some ideas on how to start searching for the Prince of Wands,” Logan says, standing from the bed to stretch.

He tosses down his fidget spinner, the one he carries with him everywhere as a reminder of his meditative practice. Logan’s parents passed down their tradition of Transcendental Meditation, which includes a secret mantra. Logan modified the practice by adding the fidget spinner, which physically represents his mantra. The spinner is actually quite pretty, a stainless silver triangle spinner inside a perfect golden circular base.

“Amelia’s going to love that,” I sigh.

“Yeah. We both got a little carried away back at the diner, didn’t we? She can just get so intense.”

“That’s Major Amelia for you.”

“Well, Magician Logan can stick to his guns, too. Especially since we’re starting this search in Wand territory.”

“Right. And actually, if we follow from there, next comes the Minor Arcana Cups suit, which is most related to The High Priestess, Cleo’s tarot expression,” I say, my brain ticking like clockwork. “Then there’s The Empress, Amelia’s expression, whose Mother Nature vibe relates to Pentacles. Then finally The Emperor, my expression, whose symbol is the Sword. I guess I never really considered how neatly all of that lines up in a row for us.”

“I suppose Amelia would want us to believe that’s also completely meaningless?” Logan sighs. “She’d argue the four of us are just drawn together because of our complementary personality types. And that making this connection is our minds telling a good story, spinning fiction from fact. But I don’t know. That seems so clinical. And unlikely. What do you think?”