“Mattie,” I hissed. “Nothing will be happening between us.”

“You mean happening again,” she corrected.

“Right, whatever. That kiss was a temporary lapse in judgment.”

One I had thought about repeating many times since it happened.

Mattie smirked as if she knew exactly the thought going through my head. “Fine, whatever. I still think you should do it. Oliver screams fun. And let’s face it, you could use fun.”

I raised both hands. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true.”

Irritated, I marched away from her to a different display. People could see through me like tissue paper. I’d never realized how un-fun I was. Or at least, I hadn’t cared in the past. My fingers traced over a yellowy-white crystal on the shelf in front of me.

“Citrine,” the owner said. I hadn’t even heard him approach.

“Sorry.” I yanked my hand away, but he shook his head.

“No, feel free to touch. That’s how you transfer the energy.”

“Right,” I said, wanting to be polite, but also still not believing any of this in the slightest.

“You’re drawn to that one?” he asked, tapping at the paper.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe?”

He chuckled, as if sensing my skepticism. “Citrine is known as the merchant’s stone. It’s good for wealth and success. Some say it helps attract money and abundance.”

Mattie snorted from the other side of the small store. “Of course that’s the one that drew you in.”

My fingers moved back to the crystal I had been originally tracing, and I closed my hand around it.

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “You’re actually getting it?”

“Why not? I could use all the help I can get,” I said, moving toward the checkout counter.

Mattie followed me, and the owner stepped back behind the counter to ring me up.

“Just this one?” he asked.

“Yep.” I fished around in my purse for my wallet. Mattie stood next to me, reading the crystal display perched in front of the register.

“And this one,” she said, picking up a green crystal and setting it next to the one I’d already picked out.

“What’s that one for?” I asked, grabbing the small stone to examine it.

“Malachite,” she said, reading off the paper next to the display. “It’s supposed to absorb negative energy and help you embrace change and step out of your comfort zone.”

I let out a sigh and placed it back on the counter. “Fine. I’ll take both of these.”

“We’ve been shopping for hours, if you don’t let me consume a coffee and a pastry, I’m going to pass out.”

I pushed open the door to the café Mattie had deemed her favorite. When I asked if there were other options in town, she’d admitted there were not. But she still insisted this would be the best regardless.

The intense aroma of coffee beans wafted through the air, and I almost moaned in pleasure. Maybe she was right, after all. The café oozed charm, with cozy armchairs and mismatched tables spread across a vintage checkered tile floor. For mid-afternoon, it was busier than I’d expected. Back in Atlanta, the crowd would have been glued to their laptops or juggling work calls, but here, people lingered over quiet conversations or lost themselves in the pages of a worn book. Small-town charm, I supposed.