Living Out Loud (Austen, #3)(56)

“I mean, with a word like fine, how could I not be assured?”

She laughed but otherwise ignored me, swiftly changing the subject. “Tell me about your day.”

I sighed and gave up. “It was great. Greg asked me to the ballet to see Romeo and Juliet. Isn’t that incredible?”

Elle didn’t say anything right away. “What did Will say when you told him?”

I frowned—mostly at her, but partly at myself. “I haven’t told him yet, but I’m sure he’ll be fine.” The second I said it, I thought of at least four reasons he absolutely would not be fine. Dread slithered through me.

She gave me a look.

“Well, he has to be fine with it. Greg’s my friend, and I’m going.”

“And if he’s not fine?”

“Then I’ll have the same talk with him that I just had with Greg. I don’t want either relationship to interfere with the other.”

“I know you don’t, but they might despite the fact.”

That dread took a hard left, looking for attention. “It’s so stupid. Greg doesn’t like me. I even asked him, and he said no.”

She fixed another disputing look on me.

“Honestly, Elle, he had a chance right then to tell me if he did. I believe him. I trust him. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

She sighed but didn’t argue.

“Why can’t things be easy?”

“Because,” she said gently, “easy is for fairy tales. Life is too fluid and unpredictable and nothing short of complicated. But the good news is that they say nothing worth having is easy.”

“How’s that the good news?” I chuckled, not feeling like it was at all funny.

She tightened her arm, bringing me a little closer. “I just mean that there’s a payoff, if you can get through the hard part.”

I blew out a noisy sigh. “If you say so.”

“I say so.”

“Then I have to believe it’s true.” I laid my head on her shoulder.

My mind turned in on itself, admitting first that I’d been relieved at Greg’s answer. Because if the answer had been yes, could I have kept hanging out with him? Was I allowed to be friends with someone I knew had feelings for me? I didn’t know the rules, wasn’t sure of the protocol. And his answer saved me from having to consider it in detail.

But he’d said he cared about me, and I understood that. I cared about him too—a lot in fact. I wanted to tell him the details of my day and hear about his. I wanted to spend my time with him, craved his company. But most importantly, I didn’t want to lose him.

But didn’t all friends feel that way? Because we were just friends, right?

I drew in a breath full of resolve, filling my lungs up with decision. If I had to ask myself whether or not I felt more for him than just friends, the answer was no.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence, “you’re coming to the costume party with me, right?”

“Annie…” she sighed my name like she was exhausted.

I pouted. “Come on. It’s gonna be so fun. Just think, there will be loads of guys there, and they’ll be largely wearing cravats. Cravats, Elle.” I raised my head to give her a look so salacious, I could have been talking about porn.

She laughed. “Ugh, I don’t know.”

“Come on,” I full-on whined this time. “Please?”

Elle looked over my face for a second and sighed, rolling her eyes, and I knew I had her. “Oh, all right.”

I cheered a Woohoo! imagining us at the party together—Will on one arm and Elle on the other—just as my phone rang. My heart skipped faster when I saw it was Will.

“Hey,” I said with a smile. “I was just thinking about you.”

“I like the sound of that.” I could hear him smiling on the line. “Busy?”

“I’m just on my way to dinner with my sister. Why? What’s up?”

“Ah,” he said, disappointed. “I was hoping we could grab a bite. I knew I should have texted earlier. I just didn’t want to bother you at work.”

“Oh. I wish you had.” I glanced at Elle and got an idea. “Hang on.” I pressed my phone to my chest. “Think Will could meet up with us?”

Elle nodded. “Of course.”

I pressed my phone to my ear, grinning. “Want to come meet us for burritos at Besos?”

“You sure your sister doesn’t mind?”

“Not at all. You in?”

“Be there in ten,” he said, sounding as giddy as I was.

We said goodbye, and I hung up, sighing like a fool while Elle chuckled at me.

“I know,” I admitted. “I know. He’s just…perfect, Elle.”

“No one is perfect.”

“Well, he checks all the boxes.”

“I’m only saying that maybe you should get to know him a little better before you call him your boyfriend. You don’t even really know if you like each other.”

I gave her a flat look. “Elle, he’s gorgeous, went to Yale, recites poetry, and took me on a dream date. What’s not to like?”

“The dream date wasn’t exactly original.”

“Ugh, killjoy.”