Living Out Loud (Austen, #3)(41)

So I did the only thing I could.

I leaned on the bar toward her and put on my best smile, saying, “You know what? It can wait. Tell me about Juilliard.”

And when happiness lifted her up like a kite, I knew I’d do anything for her. Even if it meant the end of me.





11





That Motherfucker





Annie

The day flew by, in part because we were so busy and in part because I floated through it like Snoopy in the Macy’s Parade—high and smiling and bobbing through the people with a fool smile on my face.

Every second of the encounter with Will played through my mind, starting with coming-to in his arms. It was something out of a dream or a fairy tale, and I couldn’t believe it had happened to me.

Nothing like that had ever happened to me.

But it was the season of firsts. And Will was a brilliant first. He was so handsome, so charming, so absolutely grand, and beyond all reason, he wanted to see me again. In fact, he’d insisted on picking me up from work to see me home.

There hadn’t been anyone like him in Boerne, that was for sure.

Wasted Words was packed that day, the line at the registers never quieting for more than a minute or two. Not long enough for me to talk to Greg again.

He’d listened to me talk about Juilliard, but something in him had closed off, shut down, pulled back. It was as if the magic from yesterday had been sucked right out of him.

I tried to tell myself I was imagining things. I was just being paranoid. He didn’t purposely choose the far side of the bar where I couldn’t see him. He wasn’t making it a point to go to the back at every opportunity.

He wasn’t mad at me.

But I itched to ask him flat-out anyway.

I heard my sister in my head saying, He probably likes you, and the thought jarred me so thoroughly that I almost dropped the change in my hand as I passed it to a customer’s open palm.

If he liked me, he certainly wouldn’t be happy about my showing up with Will. I considered for a moment how I would feel if he showed up with a girl on his arm, and I was subjected to an irrational burst of adrenaline that made my heart stutter.

Maybe Elle was right. Maybe I did like him.

My pulse picked up at the thought, but I dismissed the idea completely. If I liked him, my insides would be going ape. Like full-blown tree-shaking, banana-throwing, howler-monkey nutso, like they did about Will.

I sighed wistfully, smiling at my hands as I scanned a stack of books, thinking of Will, remembering the feeling of being cradled in his arms as he’d carried me to his car, the way he’d held my hand, walked me into the store to make sure I was safe. I’d finally found someone who made me feel and feel so intensely that it was nearly all I could think about.

I couldn’t believe he was real. I couldn’t believe he was interested in me.

Life was weird. A few weeks ago, I hadn’t been sure how life could even keep going, and now I found that life running away from me in the best way, like rolling down a grassy hill in the summertime.

I didn’t believe in heaven or hell, but I believed in finding meaning and comfort where I could. And I had to think that, somehow, I had manifested my destiny strictly through my desire to honor my father and live my life in a new way.

The universe had granted me a gift, and I didn’t want to take it for granted.

When I glanced over at the bar, Greg was there, his enigmatic eyes on me, the irises the color of midnight. But when I smiled, he smiled back, sending a slow crawl of relief through my chest. We’d just been busy, that was all. I was just being dramatic, which was a common trap for me, right alongside jumping to conclusions and judging things based on what I could see and the narrow lens I could see them through.

Unfortunately, that knowledge never stopped me from repeating my mistakes.

Once it hit six, I finished up and passed the baton to Ruby before taking my drawer back to the office. And once I was all set, I grabbed my things, clocked out, and headed to the bar to ask Greg if everything was okay before Will came to pick me up.

Only I never got the chance.

Will and Greg were exchanging words across the bar, and their body language said those words were unpleasant. Greg’s shoulders were square, his face tight, the muscles at the corners of his jaw bouncing like he was clenching and unclenching his teeth. Will didn’t look much better, though a little less aggressive; his eyes were narrowed, and he stood tall and square, but there didn’t seem to be any bite behind his posture. Greg, on the other hand, looked like he could separate Will’s head from his body.

They both put on the controlled facade of neutrality when I approached.

“Is everything okay?” I asked Will before glancing at Greg.

A thousand questions were poised on the tip of my tongue, and Greg’s dark eyes held a thousand things he wanted to say.

“Fine,” Will clipped, his presence between Greg and me tangible and impeding. “Are you ready?” he asked, offering me his arm.

“Yeah,” I answered as I took it.

Greg’s eyes were dark and stormy, but he found a way to smile. It was a taut, unfamiliar version of the smile I knew. “I’ll see you later, Annie.”

“Bye,” I said stupidly, and we turned to leave. But as Will swept me out of the bookstore, I chanced a glance back.

Greg still watched me, in the exact spot I’d left him. I didn’t think he’d even exhaled.