by Lyz Kelley
I almost turned around and went back home. Instead, I trudged the rest of the way to work, feeling like a black cloud surrounded me.
Behind the front counter, I heaved boxes aside in a heap, grumbling under my breath. Where were yesterday’s receipts?
“Rough night?” Nick asked as I stomped around the show room.
I withheld my answer until after ringing up a BMX bike for a middle-aged dad hovering over his son. I took note of the guy’s daughter and her pink, sparkly shorts and Hello Kitty high-tops. “We have this really cool racing BMX bike in pink and black,” I said to the girl. “Want to see it?”
The dad’s expression soured as he glanced from me to his daughter.
“Yeah, girls race too,” I snapped, handing the guy his receipt. He grabbed his daughter’s hand and dragged her to the door. “Have a nice day,” I called out. “And thank you for shopping at Harbor Bike and Ski.”
I turned to see Nick shaking his head.
“Piran and I had a fight last night,” I said, explaining my less than cheerful mood. I took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to return to the Lady Spinners team in Colorado.”
Nick popped open a can of soda. “Let me guess. He’s not too happy about that.”
“Exactly.” I stacked boxes of helmets. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Have you ever considered a collegiate cycling team instead? A couple guys at my university race in collegiate national races. You should check into that. You can always try for a pro team next season. In the meantime, you can get a year of grad school out of the way.”
I squirmed. “I don’t know. Graduate school?”
“Always good to have a back-up plan, Bails.”
“Now look who’s being an adult.”
He grinned, then chugged the rest of his soda and pounded his chest, letting a belch rip. Tyler gave him a high-five, and I rolled my eyes. Amateurs. I could recite nearly half the alphabet on a single belch.
I began cleaning the glass display cases. Hmm…a collegiate racing team. Maybe Nick was right and I could race while earning a Master’s degree. If I found a school nearby, I could stay closer to Piran.
On my break, I borrowed Nick’s laptop. What were the chances I’d find a college with graduate programs, within driving distance, and with a cycling team?
But I did. Evergreen University, an hour’s drive west of Chicago. Their varsity cycling team paid for race entry fees, team jerseys, and race-day travel fees. Oh, and provided scholarships.
I actually laughed out loud. Was this a sign?
Tyler gave me an odd look and I shooed him off. It was mid-September. Too late to apply for fall semester. Maybe spring? I completed the school’s online application, adding an explanation in the comments section to explain the reason for the late application. Then I requested my transcripts be sent. I leaned back, shaking my head in disbelief. Graduate school. No guarantees, but at least I could say I tried.
It had begun to rain and the store had no customers. I texted Piran, but got no response. He wasn’t much of a texter though … or maybe he was still too upset to talk to me. The idea of racking up frequent-flier miles didn’t appeal to him. Couldn’t really blame him. A long-distance relationship wasn’t my first choice either.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and busied myself with sorting racks of sporting apparel, anything to keep my mind occupied.
“Bails.”
I glanced over at Nick, who nodded toward the front of the shop.
As Piran approached, I blurted out, “I applied to a graduate school just outside of Chicago.”
“I applied for a museum internship in Denver.”
My mouth opened, but I merely licked my lips, trying to gain my equilibrium and a cognizant thought. “You did that for me?”
“I would do anything for you.”
Oh God. His smile melted my heart, and tears welled in my eyes. I knew right then we’d make this work somehow. We’d find a way to be with each other and pursue our dreams. Somehow our love would guide us.
I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him, gazing up at his exquisite face. “Whoever is accepted first determines where we go?”
He tilted his head. “And if both our applications are successful?”
I grinned. “You go to Colorado and I stay here?”
“You be an artist and I race a bicycle?” he countered with a playful tug on my ponytail.
“I think you’d win that switch.”
“Ah, sweet Bailey. I never thought I would find myself heels over head in love.”
“Head over heels,” I corrected, and we both laughed.
His expression turned serious as his long fingers stroked my face. “As long as we can be together, I do not care where we are.”
I drew in a deep breath. “But you are a prince with a commitment to your kingdom, in a realm where I can’t—”
“Stop.” He placed a finger over my lips.
The corner of his eyes crinkled. “I am no longer Prince of Sava.”
“What?” I gasped.
“This is the world in which I belong. Modern. Vibrant. Full of possibilities. And you.” He paused, his smile deepening. “Mostly you.”
“Oh, Piran.” My lips trembled. “But what about your parents? Won’t they hate me?”
His eyes widened. “Hate you? If you were Fae, my father would appoint you to his Council. You have reinforced his commitment to human-Fae relations.”
I blinked. “Really?”
Piran laughed. “Did I ever tell you my mother thinks you are pretty?”
“Uh-huh.” I managed to get in a preemptive strike to his shoulder. “I know this one.”
A customer entered the store, and we instinctively stepped apart.
“Together,” I whispered, my head still in a daze.
“Always,” he whispered back.
He walked to the shop’s front door, turned around, and flashed me that wonderfully sexy wry smile of his.
My heart nearly burst.
Whatever direction life was taking us, we’d be taking it together.
