Page 55 of My Faire Lady

“I really should have studied the script,” she starts, straightening her back. Her gaze shifts from mine, and she breathes out a laugh. “The kiss…”

I suck in a deep breath as her words trail off. I know exactly what the kiss was—how it lit every nerve ending in my body and awoke my magic unlike anything before. How, if she asked me to, I’d lower her on the table and press kisses across her skin, map her body with my mouth.

She hops from the table. “The crowd loved it.”

“The crowd?” My heart plummets, squeezing through the narrow gaps in the wooden planks.

It wasn’t for me.

She nods. “They were cheering and everything. Couldn’t get enough of it.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “We put on quite a show.”

She hums her approval and winces as she shifts the bodice of her corset, her skin rubbed raw at the upper seam. “I could really use that change of clothes.”

“Right.” I back out of the room and hook a thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll go get everything. You get started on your piece.”

Her eyes settle on the door over my shoulder. “Be safe out there, please.”

I throw myself outside and take the steps two at a time until my feet meet earth. Water puddles around my boots, and a sheet of rain drenches me. If only it could wash away the disappointment and humiliation gnawing at the underbelly of my chest.

I have no reason to be upset at Lottie’s reaction to the kiss. It’s what I wanted, right? For neither of us to get attached.

Rain rolls between my lips and into my mouth, and I swallow it as I stride down the path. As soon as the shoppe is out of sight, I lift my hand to the sky and pull a strike of lightning from the clouds, throwing it to the ground as hard as I can.

Thunder crashes in its wake.

20

Hair stands on the back of my neck as I feed the silk through the sewing machine. I glance over my shoulder, but the shoppe is empty. And yet, whenever I’m here, I never feel fully alone.

Like someone is watching, studying.

The storm doesn’t help.

Raindrops plop into the bucket behind me, and I focus my attention on the steady hum of the needle as I sew the underlay of the skirt.

A crash of thunder startles me, and I yelp, my hands jerking the silk sideways. I curse under my breath and pause the machine, pulling out a pair of shears.

The single lightbulb above my head flickers.

I swallow and push to my feet, striding into the front room. Scarlet should be back by now, but if she’s caught in the storm, she could be hurt. It wouldn’t take much for a flash flood to sweep someone away, and with the thunder and rain pelting the roof, no one would hear her.

My heart climbs into my throat.

The light flickers again, and the floorboards groan under my feet as I make my way to the front door. I hook a finger around the small curtain on the window and pull it to the side, squinting through the rain as I scan the quad. The paths are gone, submerged, and water spills over the edges of the fountain in the center.

A figure emerges from the tree line, and I jerk the door open as Scarlet jogs the rest of the way, climbing the steps two at a time.

Crossing the threshold, she heaves a large rucksack off her back. It thuds to the floor, and she smiles up at me through strands of soaked auburn hair.

Her smile drops. “What’s wrong?”

I run my palm across my throat. “I thought you got caught in the storm.”

The furrow between her brows smooths out, and she straightens, pushing her hair out of her face. “You were worried about me?”

“I mean, you’d be worried about me, too. If I went out in that.” I gesture toward the doorway and the rain blurring the world from view. “What if you got washed away? Or tripped on something and hit your head? What if you didn’t come back?”