Page 96 of My Faire Lady

“Well,” Kelsey says, “I better get going before my flight leaves without me.”

An ache spreads over my heart, and my hands reach for her again, pulling her into another hug. “Let me know when you land?”

She nods against my shoulder. “As long as you let me know when you do.”

“Of course. And I’ll see you in L.A. for Christmas.”

It pains, knowing this will be the first Christmas we don’t spend at grandma’s house, but it’s time I learn more about Kelsey’s life. And grandma’s house will always be there, waiting for us to come home.

“Or,” she starts, smirking as she backs away, “I come to you for Christmas. I’ve always wanted to visit Edinburgh for New Years.”

“As long as I see you,” I say. The distance between us widens, and I raise my voice. “We’ll talk about it later!”

She gives me a thumbs up and turns on her heel, her ponytail swishing behind her as she heads to the opposite end of the terminal. I stand frozen as the crowd swallows her. In a few hours, we’ll be separated by an ocean, an eight-hour time difference.

There’s a thread that connects us, tangled in the web that links me to everything I’ve ever known. Grandma’s house, the craft store, Kelsey. Until now, that line has always been held taught, keeping me tethered to what’s comfortable.

It’s about time I let the thread unspool.

A voice crackles over the intercom, and I sigh, turning away. I adjust the tote over my shoulder and find my gate nestled between two others—one to Norfolk, the other to Phoenix.

Dropping onto one of the black seats, I pull out a book and flip it open to the spot where I left my bookmark.

“Is this seat taken?”

I lift my gaze to a man with chestnut hair and matching eyes, pointing at the seat directly beside me.

Furrowing my brow, I scan the rows of empty seats around us, but scoop my tote onto the ground and shrug. “All yours.”

Returning to my book, I skim the first few lines of text, but my brain doesn’t register the words. I feel the man’s stare on the side of my face like a brand.

I close my finger into the book and turn to him. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

He doesn’t smile, and something shifts behind his eyes, softening them. His throat bobs on a swallow, and he extends a hand. “I’m Jeremy.”

I lift a brow. But if I’m meant to share an airplane with him, across an ocean, I guess I’d better be polite. I shake his hand. “Lottie.”

“I think we’ve met before,” he says, a sadness to his eyes. “Did you work at the Renaissance Faire this summer?”

“Yeah, with my sister, but we were just two of the barmaids.” Resigned, I slide the bookmark back into its spot and set the book in my lap. “Did you?”

A nod. “I was one of the knights.”

“Oh, I never went to any of the jousts.”

The gate agent taps at her microphone and announces that we will begin boarding soon. I slide my book into my bag and thread it onto my shoulder, readying myself to stand and join the line.

“But why are you here?” I add. “I thought the faire season isn’t over for another two weeks.”

“The faire shut down early.” His eyes flick away from mine for a heartbeat. “And after so long, I thought it was time for me to see more of the world.”

The gate agent calls my boarding group, and I stand. “You and me both.”

“I could have sworn we met,” he says, again.

I shake my head, giving him a sorry shrug of my shoulders.

His chest deflates. “You really don’t remember, do you?”