Living Out Loud (Austen, #3)(12)

I’d tried to date, but the result was a long string of failures. I did the dating-app thing long enough to figure out that people were really strange. The only date that actually worked out was with Rose, one of the owners of the bookstore. We ended up going out a few times—until she admitted that she was still in love with her ex.

I’d sworn off dating websites after that.

More recently, my failed dating experience was thanks to a pack of well-meaning, meddlesome friends and family.

My family was one culprit. My sister brought home her friends from Columbia all the time, parading them in front of me like show ponies. The fact that they were all so close to my baby sister in age was a negative, the nature of which seemed to be lost on her.

Work was the other source of badgering, and Cam was the lead offender.

Matchmaking was a quirk of hers, a hobby fueled by compulsion and good intentions. She’d tried to set me up with at least two-dozen girls since we started working together, and none of them worked out, much to her frustration. In fact, she once went so far that we’d made her swear she’d stop.

It was a lie we all pretended to believe.

She wasn’t the only one though. My two head bartenders, Harrison and Beau, loved to bring in girlfriends of chicks they were seeing. Even Rose had been working on me, introducing me to a tattoo artist who worked with her boyfriend. Once, she’d even had her roommate, Lily, bring me a ballerina she danced with at the New York City Ballet.

I was everyone’s favorite project, probably because I wasn’t interested in participating. I put my energy into my family and my job, and both areas thrived. It was my source of happiness. And even though I wanted to meet someone, it needed to be on my own terms. It would happen—and not by enduring a hundred uncomfortable setups.

I was resolved to hold out for something more. I didn’t even really know what that meant and was—probably naively—banking on the hope that I’d know it when I saw it or that it’d hit me like a Mack truck—something undeniable, unavoidable, and potentially fatal.

Kinda like the feeling I’d gotten when I met Annie. Who I couldn’t date. At least not for a minimum of five years, which would put her in the vicinity of a reasonable age.

I found myself frowning as I hopped the curb in front of Wasted Words and stopped at the door, propping my longboard against the building as I dug my keys out of my pocket and unlocked it.

The closed bookstore was weirdly still, like an alter ego of its open counterpart, especially compared to the nights when the place was jam-packed with people and chatter and laughter. I headed to the bar just as Cam came out from the back.

She was a tiny little thing with dark hair and big glasses, wearing a T-shirt illustrated with Phoenix from X-Men, jeans, a worn-out pair of Chucks, and a smile.

“Morning, Gregory.”

“Morning, Cameron.”

She hopped up onto a barstool as I packed my gear in the cubbies under the bar. “Rose told me about your unauthorized new hire,” she joked with one dark eyebrow arched. “What’s up with that?”

I shrugged and turned to the register computer to clock in, avoiding her eyes. “You guys were busy.”

“I mean, you could have at least asked Rose.”

“She would have said no.”

Cam bobbled her head. “Maybe, maybe not. So, are you gonna tell me the story? This is the first time you’ve ever expressed interest in new hires who aren’t working the bar.” She leaned in, watching me like a chess board.

I sighed and rested my palms on the counter in front of her, hoping I had my face in check. Because if Cam caught a whiff of my interest in Annie, I’d be doomed.

“I dunno, Cam. Just a gut feeling, I guess. She seemed like she needed a job, and she got a thousand times too excited about your coaster quotes. I got the feeling she would fit in great. I figured you and Rose would be all right with it. I mean, it is okay, isn’t it?”

She smiled, but she was still watching me a little too closely for comfort. “You like her.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not this again. We’ve agreed you aren’t allowed to set me up anymore.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need to do much setting up at all. That’s why you hired her, isn’t it?” she asked, eager as a Jack Russell terrier.

“No. I told you why, and I meant it. Honestly, wait until you meet her. You’ll get it.”

Her eyes darted to the door, and her smile widened. “Well, speak of the devil.”

I turned as Cam hopped off her stool. Annie stood outside the glass doors, looking unsure of herself, bottom lip pinned between her teeth as she knocked, and by the look on her face, it wasn’t the first time. We hadn’t heard her over The Ramones playing over the speakers.

She smiled when she saw Cam, her worry gone, replaced with sunshiny happiness.

I found myself smiling, my heartbeat speeding up just enough to notice.

In other words, I was fucked, and in the moment, I didn’t even have the good sense to realize it.

They were chatting as they approached and walked past the bar. Cam gave me an I-told-you-so look, and Annie raised one pink mittened hand in a wave.

She barely spared me a glance.

I tried not to consider the horrifying possibility that I might be invisible to her.

While I didn’t consider it, I kept myself busy setting up the bar, carting ice from the back and rubber mats from dish while Cam showed Annie around.