She texts as we rush in the direction of our gate, and I stop dead in my tracks. People flow around me while I put in my earbuds, and she voice calls before I have the chance.

“How long?” I ask at the same time she says, “Hours.”

Remi laughs. “Remember when you doubted how well I know you?”

I do. And I’ll never forget.

Last week she was claiming to know me so well, so I told her to describe me in one word.

“Restless,” she said in her raspy voice.

“I won’t be once I get to you.”

A truth. Remi settles me more than anything.

Chase circles back and hooks me around the neck, pulling me along while he grins.

“We’re almost at our gate,” I tell Remi. “I didn’t want to hear your unsexy voice before we boarded.”

“Same. I left my last class late, hoping I missed you.”

We reach the gate, the window view of the plane and the dark night sky. “Mmm, tell me one more lie, baby.”

Chase rolls his eyes, tugging me into the short line. “Christ, the future rock star persona is dying a violent death right now.”

Remi stays quiet long enough, I worry something’s wrong. But then my beautiful liar says, “Here’s three. I didn’t just take a picture with my face in it. I’m not sending it to you. I couldn’t care less if you send yours back.”

I smile, not moving ahead with everyone else. “Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

“You sure that’s not a lie?” she asks, a matching smile in her voice.

“It’s a promise.” I hesitate, the line gone and Chase waiting. “I’ll see you soon, Remi.”

A beat passes, and I feel her more than ever. “I’ll see you too, Foster.”

Her text comes through as I step onto the plane. As soon as I land in my seat beside Chase, I knock his knee with mine for more room. Before I check her message, I open my camera. The asshole beside me jerks me over by the sleeve, elbowing me while shoving his arm around my neck.

I side-eye him when he snags my phone.

“What?” Chase says. “It’s not like she’ll get confused by the extra sexiness. She’s already seen my face.” He settles in next to me, ready for a selfie. “Now, hit her with that broody thing you do.”

“Dude.”

“Fine. Look like shit for her,” he bites out. “One, two, three, Foster fucking sucks.”

My lips tip up at the last part, and he smirks, capturing the heart-warming moment.

He tosses my phone back and starts scrolling on his, slumping in his seat and pretending not to watch me open my messages.