Living Out Loud (Austen, #3)(67)

Hope your date was nice.

Nice. One couldn’t ever say nice like that and it mean anything other than a lie.

I unlocked my phone and opened my messages to answer, wishing I could say nothing at all.

It was fun—I deleted fun—eventful. I deleted the whole thing and stared at my screen for a second.

I finally settled on, The ballet was beautiful. What did you do last night?

Within seconds of sending the message, he was typing. I waited, watching those little dots.

Sat around here, thinking about how much I hated that you were with him.

My stomach turned over. I’m sorry.

Just not sorry enough to have stayed home in the first place?

Tears blurred my vision. It doesn’t matter anyway. You were right. Greg has feelings for me, and we can’t be friends anymore.

For a second, nothing happened, and I imagined Will was stunned, reading the message over and over again. Did he make a pass at you?

No. He knows I’m with you, I answered painfully.

Dammit, Annie. You should have listened when I told you he liked you.

I know, I typed, not feeling like I knew much of anything. Are you angry?

Greg is an asshole, and he always has been. I don’t want you anywhere near him.

I wondered briefly how much of that had to do with the wild differences in their stories about Greg’s sister. And the following realization was that I believed Greg more.

Well, that’s going to be hard to do since we work together.

Do you really think you should be working there anyway? It’s not like you have to work, and with your heart and your surgery, it’s not good for you.

You sound like my mother, I typed, which was poised like a joke, but it wasn’t. At all.

I’m just saying. What about if you get into Juilliard?

Then I guess I’ll deal with it then. I fumed, my thumbs flying with as much anger as thumbs could muster. That job is the best thing in my life right now.

Not me?

I frowned, my fingers tapping with enough force to make noise as I answered him. Of course you too, and my sisters and Juilliard. And Greg, I wanted to add. Except he wasn’t going to be in my life anymore. I can’t believe you suggested that I quit.

I can’t believe you went on a date with another guy, but here we are.

It wasn’t a date, and you know it.

Tell Greg that.

A frustrated tear charged down my cheek as I tossed my phone onto the empty side of the bed.

It was unfair, so unfair of him to treat me this way. He was petty and jealous, accusing and demanding.

Really, he was even more of a child than I was.

Greg never would have spoken to you like that, I thought, calling fresh tears to my eyes.

I climbed out of bed, reaching for my bathrobe on my way out of my room, still tugging it on when I knocked on Elle’s door.

A sleepy Come in had me doing just that.

Elle propped herself up in bed with a smile that immediately fell when she saw me. “Annie? What’s the matter?”

I closed the door, my chin flexing and cheeks tingling with a surge of anger and shame and hurt simply because she’d asked the question.

I didn’t speak until I was in bed with her.

“Greg and I had a fight,” I managed just before a sob escaped.

“Oh, Annie. What happened?”

“He…he…” I stammered, trying to catch my breath. “He said we couldn’t be friends anymore because he had feelings for me.”

Elle nodded and reached for my hand.

“I didn’t know. I really didn’t. How is that possible? How could I possibly be so s-s-stupid?” For a second, I couldn’t say more. “I hurt him without meaning to, and now…now…”

I broke down again, and she smoothed my hair.

“Shh, it’s all right.”

“But it’s not. It’s not all right; nothing is all right. Will is angry that I went last night even though I told him I was going to be friends with Greg whether he wanted me to or not and even though he’d agreed not to give me flak. He was still mad after I told him Greg and I were through.” Fresh pain twisted in my chest. “He even suggested I quit the bookstore just to keep me away from Greg. How ludicrous is that?”

“He’s jealous. He and Greg don’t get along, but you told him no and Greg yes.”

“Yeah, but Will is my boyfriend. I thought that meant he understood he had some…precedence.”

Her brows drew together in something close to pity. “You barely know him, and he barely knows you. It takes time to build trust.”

“So, what—because he’s my boyfriend, I should just do whatever he wants? Let him tell me who I can and can’t spend my time with?” I shot.

“Of course not. I’m not saying he’s right. But he had a feeling Greg liked you, and so did I. Do you really mean to say you didn’t have any idea about Greg?”

“How could I have known? He never came on to me, never told me of his feelings. Will is an open book—he says what he feels and what he wants. From the first second I met him, he pursued me. And Greg did nothing to signal that he wanted to be with me. He was my friend. How could I have known he felt otherwise?”

That look was still on her face, and even though I knew it was compassion, it stung. “Not all love is loud and assuming. Sometimes it’s silent, especially when it puts someone else’s happiness above its own.”