Living Out Loud (Austen, #3)(76)

“We’re locked in.”





20





Did He?





Annie

A half an hour later, I was sitting behind Rose’s desk, gently spinning the chair from side to side.

The night felt like it had been a decade long; too much had happened and too much had changed for it to have only been a few hours.

As I watched Greg dial the phone again, his dark brows drawn with a frustrated furrow between them, I marked the swing of emotions I’d felt. Wonder when I put on the dress, the thrill when I took that cursed drink from Will, the fear when Greg stepped in, the guilt at the knowledge of his rightness. The betrayal by Will of my wants and wishes. The feeling I had as I watched him walk away.

The truth of that emotion was that it wasn’t remorse but relief. Because Will had demonstrated once more that he wasn’t the man I’d believed him to be, and he’d had enough chances to prove otherwise.

Will had wanted his way solely for the sake of having his way. Greg had intervened because he was trying to protect me, in his heavy-handed, ill-conceived way.

And when it all shook down, I found myself glad that Will and I were through.

I watched Greg, his face tight, phone pressed to his ear as he mashed another set of numbers and waited for it to ring.

He’d been so angry, so disappointed. So right. About everything.

When he kicked Will out, I was livid. I steamed through the rest of the night feeling stupid and confused and hurt. Angry because I’d been manipulated by them, backed into the corner I found myself in.

But when Greg took me to the back and tore me down like I deserved, when he reached for me, held me close, his dark eyes fevered and tortured, I only felt ashamed and sorry. I wanted to wipe his pain away, wash away what I’d done, tell him the truth of my feelings.

Greg slammed the phone back on the receiver. “Goddamn it,” he hissed and dragged a hand through his dark hair. “No one is answering their phone, and the extra key’s not in the safe where it’s supposed to be.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed as a noisy breath left him.

“What about the fire exit? In the back?”

He shook his head and sat back in Cam’s chair, looking exhausted. “It’ll open without a key and put us in the alley, but the fire alarm will go off, and that, you can only turn off with a manager’s key, which Beau has.”

“And Cam and Rose.”

“And if they picked up their fucking phones, we’d be all set.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.

“What time will someone be here in the morning?”

“Cam will be here at eight. Did you text your sister?”

I nodded. “She won’t get it until the morning, but at least no one will freak out that I didn’t come home. They all knew I’d be working late—just not all-night late—so the good news is, they’re not waiting up and worrying.”

“Maybe I should try Cooper, the other owner. He’s mostly just an investor though. I’m not sure it’s even in his jurisdiction, if I could even get ahold of him.”

I drew a heavy sigh. “Don’t bother him. We can sleep here for a few hours until Cam gets here. At least there are couches.”

Greg groaned. “I am so sorry. I cannot believe that fucking bonehead locked us in.”

“Thank God you came back. Otherwise, I’d be locked in here by myself.”

He looked a little sick at the thought.

But I smiled. “If we’re stuck here, might as well make the most of it. Come on,” I said as I stood.

We made our way back into the store, and I turned on the candelabras again, so we had a little bit of light; it was too creepy when it was totally dark. I grabbed one, and Greg did the same as we headed to the romance side of the bookstore. A good-sized seating area sat in the middle; two velvet sofas faced each other, and oversized armchairs flanked them.

“Seems as good a place as any to rest,” I said, setting my candelabra on the coffee table in the middle.

“I’m sorry about Will,” he said from behind me.

“Are you?” I asked, doing a poor job of hiding the hope in those two words. “I’m not sure I am.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you. I’m sorry he didn’t treat you with the care you deserve.”

I turned to face him. “I’m sorry I didn’t see him for who he really was. I didn’t see a lot of things, things I should have noticed and reached for. But I’m not sorry it’s over. The truth is, deep down, I’ve known for a little while that he wasn’t who I wanted.”

“You did?” he asked, narrowly winning the battle of keeping his emotion from his face and voice.

I nodded, looking into his eyes with my heart fluttering. “I kept comparing him to you, and he always fell short.”

I couldn’t wait for him to speak; I was too afraid of what he’d say. So, I made for the bookshelves, anxious for something to do with my hands. My eyes scanned the shelves until I found one of my favorite books and picked it up, smiling.

“You’re going to read?” he asked from behind me, his voice rough, but I could hear a smile on his lips.

I shrugged as I made my way back toward him, still avoiding his eyes. “I always read before bed. Plus, I love this book. She writes the best first kisses,” I said dreamily.