Living Out Loud (Austen, #3)(57)

Amused, she shook her head and pulled open the door to Besos. By the time we sorted out what we wanted, Will was strolling through the door, looking like a movie star—tall and dark and dressed in clothes that looked both casual and rich, his hair disheveled in all the right places. And then there was that smile.

He pressed a kiss to my cheek in greeting, and I introduced him to Elle, who was as amiable as always. And a few minutes later, Will bought our burritos, and we were taking seats in a booth by the window.

“So, guess who I convinced to come to the mixer?” I asked, displaying my arms to Elle in a ta-da! gesture.

He chuckled. “You too?”

Elle nodded, pretending to look defeated. “There’s no standing up to her when she gets like this.”

“Well, I’ll see if I can’t find a dress for you too. Annie will tell me what kind of costume to get,” he said before taking a bite of his burrito.

I leaned toward her. “His brother performs on Broadway,” I said, as if that explained everything.

She looked confused. “Is he also a seamstress?”

“No,” Will said with a smirk, “but he has access to costumes. I’ll let the hair and makeup artists know they’ll have two.”

I frowned, confused. “Wait, what?”

“You’re so cute, you know that?” He kissed my nose. “If you’ve got an authentic dress, your hair should match. Really, it’s nothing. My brother set it all up.”

I turned to Elle, still gaping. “Oh my God, we’re going to be like actual princesses.”

“All this for a mixer?” she asked Will.

“I don’t do anything halfway,” he answered with a wink.

“I guess not.” Elle took a bite of her burrito, but oddly, I couldn’t tell if she was impressed or not.

“How does it work, Annie, with you being eighteen in the bar?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. They wristband everyone at the door, and since it’s a coffee shop too, the rules are a little different. But technically, I’ll be working.”

“Do you serve? Or…” he started.

“I’ll be working the door. They do this thing where everyone gets name tags, and they all pick out their favorite books along with their favorite drinks and list them with us. So if you see someone you like, you can buy them a drink and their favorite book for a discount.”

“That is genius,” Elle said.

“Cam’s brilliant. Anyway, I’ll be ringing people up.” Elle looked like she wanted to back out, and an idea struck me, one that put a wide smile on my face. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure you’re entertained. Promise.”

She didn’t seem persuaded but didn’t press it.

“So, what do you do, Will?” Elle asked.

“Right now, I’m between things.”

It was the same answer he’d given me, but she seemed less amused than I had been. “And what did you do before you were between things?”

“Yale.”

That seemed to finally impress her. “What did you study?”

“Literature. Just trying to sort out what I’d like to do from here, you know? I want to be sure before I commit to anything.”

Elle laughed softly. “Look before you leap? However did you end up with Annie?”

He offered a laugh of his own. “She sort of fell in my lap.”

“What can I say? You’ve got a great lap.”

“Thank you by the way,” Elle said, setting down her burrito. “I’m glad you were there to help her.”

“So am I,” he said with a glance at me.

I would have died happy if there weren’t so many things left on my list.

We tucked into our dinner, chatting all the while. And when we were through and pulling on coats and hats, he asked if I wanted to come over and watch a movie.

To which I answered with an emphatic, “Yes!”

We said goodbye on the sidewalk, and a few minutes later, I was nestled into Will as we drove through the park toward his apartment.

Will had a doorman, though he wasn’t nearly as friendly as George, and his building was just as high-end as Susan and John’s. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the splendor of the kind of luxury they lived in. I always felt a little like a fraud, as if someone would point right at me and announce to the room that I didn’t belong there.

Passing the threshold of his apartment didn’t make me feel any more like I fit in. How a twenty-two-year-old man had access to a place like this was beyond me. It was beautiful and open—no park views, but there was a great view of Madison Avenue, which felt ludicrous to even consider, never mind gaze upon with my own two eyes. The furniture was all sleek and simple, modern but with a mid-century nod.

“God, Will, how beautiful,” I said, drinking in the view.

He laughed gently as he closed the door. “I’m glad you like it. And I’m glad you’re here.”

He moved to stand behind me, his hands finding my upper arms, his nose trailing against the curve of my ear, sending a sweet chill down my back.

“Me too,” I managed to say.

“Oh,” he said, his lips almost in my hair, “I got us tickets to Hamilton on Thursday. What do you say?”