Living Out Loud (The Austen Series Book 3)

by Staci Hart

  “You’re a goddamn liar. You would have found any excuse to kick him out and keep me here. You would have found any reason to keep me away from him. Well, it’s over now. Are you happy? Are you fucking happy?” Her voice broke, her face bent and shining with tears.

  I rushed her, grabbing her arms, pulling her into me, desperate and overcome and frustrated beyond measure. “You don’t understand, not what you want, not what he wants from you, and not how I feel.” My breath trembled, my eyes searching the depths of her emerald irises, the ring of gold flashing. “You don’t see that he was hurting you, chipping away at you sliver by sliver. You don’t see that I”—need, desire, love—“want you. You can’t see it, even when it’s right in front of you.”

  Her face softened with understanding and surprise, her lips parted, as if a thousand words waited somewhere just beyond her tongue, her hands on my chest and chin tipped up. And I felt myself leaning, felt her weight in my arms, felt her breath on my lips.

  And I let her go. God knew how, but I let her go.

  One step back wasn’t enough, and it was too much.

  I turned and rushed out of the back and into the store, empty of everyone but Beau. When he looked up, I tossed my keys to him.

  “Lock it up.”

  He frowned as he caught them. “Shit, man, I have a date.”

  “It’ll have to wait.”

  “Where are you going?” he called after me.

  “Anywhere but here.”

  I pulled open the door, welcoming the chill, hoping it would cool my anger.

  With every step, I knew I was just as wrong as I was right. With every footfall, I pictured her face, etched with pain by my own hand. I’d left her there alone. I’d treated her unfairly.

  It only took a block before I came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

  It wasn’t that I hadn’t been justified, but I’d been harder, crueler than I had to be. I could have let her go. I could have dealt with the whole thing tomorrow. And she was right; if it had been anyone but her, I would have handled it differently.

  But it was Annie, and where she was concerned, I found I couldn’t be rational.

  I turned around with a sigh and headed back to the store, my anger ebbed to expose the shores of guilt. When I reached the door, I found it still unlocked, though the store was abandoned, everyone gone except Beau. I didn’t see him, but I could hear him whistling.

  My goal was singular.

  Past the bar I went, past the hall where the office was and into the back of the building.

  I found her in nearly the same spot as I’d left her, sitting on a stack of empty crates with her face buried in her hands and her soft sobs echoing off the concrete walls.

  Annie looked up at the noise of my footfalls, almost immediately looking away, like she’d just been readying herself to leave. She swiped at her tears and sniffled, her eyes down.

  And with a bruised and bloodied heart, I dropped to my knees in front of her and took her hands in mine, meeting her eyes with remorse and repentance.

  “Annie, I’m sorry.”

  Her chin quivered, the weakly tamped tears springing from her eyes again. “No, Greg, I—”

  “Please, let me apologize,” I said gently.

  She nodded once.

  “You’re right—I can’t be reasonable when it comes to you. And even though I had to act, I didn’t have to act like that. I have a hundred excuses, but you know them all, and none of them matter. So I’ll only beg for your forgiveness. I never wanted to hurt you; I only want your happiness. I just haven’t been able to sort out how to balance your happiness and my own.”

  “Of course I forgive you,” she said, though she still cried, an unending stream that pained me to no end.

  “God, please don’t cry anymore. I don’t want to make you cry anymore,” I begged, reaching for her face, tipping it so she would meet my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded again. “So am I. I…I was wrong, and I screwed up b-b-bad. I’m so sorry.”

  A sob broke out of her, and I rose enough to pull her into my chest, slipping my fingers into her curls.

  “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said against my lapel. “I’ve ruined everything. Your friendship. My reputation.” She sniffled and pulled back. “Your coat.”

  I chuckled and looked down. “It’ll survive. And so will you. And so will I.”

  She tried to smile, her brows still together, but her tears were dry for the moment.

  I stood. “Come on, let’s get you home. It’s almost three.”

  She sighed and stood too, looking as weary and worn as I felt. “All right.”

  We walked out of the back in silence, and when I stepped into the store, I stopped dead.

  All the lights were off, and the metal gate in front of the door was down.

  “No, no, no, no. NO,” I muttered as I hurried to the door to make sure that, against all odds, I wasn’t seeing what I was seeing.

  Once confirmed, I turned to Annie with numb hands.

  “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.”

  “Mayb
e 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.

  His smile fell but not into a frown. Something in him changed, the air between us changing with it. “Does it measure up?” he asked.

  My face quirked in confusion. “Does what measure up?”

  “First kisses in fiction to first kisses in reality.”

  “Oh,” I breathed.

  He took a step closer to me. “So…does it?”

  “It…it was…” I paused, searching for a word that didn’t exist. “It was fine.” That tepid, cursed word left me before I could catch it and reel it back in.

  “Fine,” he mused, taking another step, putting him so close to me that every molecule was full of him, of the smell of him, the feel of him, though he hadn’t touched me.

  My only thought was the deep, thrumming wish that he would.

  “Tell me, Annie,” he whispered as the candlelight danced across the strong line of his nose and the swells of his lips, “did he hold your face in his hands and understand what he had?” His fingers brushed my skin until they rested in the curve of my neck, his thumb in the hollow of my jaw, his palm soft and warm against my cheek.

  He stole my breath along with my ability to move or think. All I could do was listen and feel, held captive by his hands, his breath, his words.

  “Did he touch the softness of your skin and tell you how lucky he was?” His thumb shifted reverently against my fevered skin.

  He didn’t wait for an answer to his question, and I had none to offer as our bodies merged, my chin lifting so I wouldn’t lose the connection of his gaze. “Did he look into the depths of your eyes,” he breathed, the words brushing my lips as he peered into my very soul, “like the answers to his happiness were hidden there?”

  My eyes closed with a flutter as he trailed the tip of his nose up the bridge of mine.

  “Did he tell you how beautiful you are, Annie?” he asked.

  When he pulled away only by the smallest degree, my eyes opened again, full of desperate desire I saw reflected in his.

  “Because you are,” he said. “You are so beautiful, I can’t bear to look. You’ve left me blind and exposed, disarmed and defenseless.”

  The length of my body was flush against him, my hands on his chest, my eyes searching his and my lips tingling, my heart thumping its uneven beat.

  “Did he worship you, Annie?” he asked, his dark eyes on my lips, his hand splayed across my back, holding me against him with insistence and quiet power. “Did he?” He whispered two words, two syllables that commanded my body and soul, commanded my lips to speak the truth.

  “No.” It was a plea, a desperate request, permission and blessing.

  His lips curved into a smile as he drew a breath that brought me closer, millimeter by blessed millimeter. And those lips, those beautiful, smiling lips brushed mine, striking all else from my mind.

  The moment they touched, they became a seam, a hot, soft meld of lips coupled with a sharp intake of breath. It was demand met with demand, mine for his, his for mine, his body leaning into me and mine leaning back. My arms wound around his neck and flexed, pulling my chest against his, the soft command of his lips sweet and relieved and exalted.

  And mine matched his without thought, without expectation, only the rightness of him and the sureness of me.

  With a sweep of his tongue, my lips parted. The feeling of his tongue and mine passing each other drew a breath from deep within each of us, as if something in me had been taken and would be found in him.

  All I could do was acquiesce, and I did so with more desire than I had known I possessed.

  His lips slowed, then closed, and he kissed me once more, capturing my bottom lip gently in his.

  I opened my heavy lids and looked into his eyes with the realization that was my first true kiss and that his lips belonged to me as truly as mine belonged to him.

  “That was…” My breath trembled.

  “I’ve never…” he whispered and kissed me again, as if to test a theory.

  Our bodies wound together in answer, as if that was their natural state, the connection of our lips sparking the action without intention.

  He broke away once more, that theory proven—there was magic between us, singular to us, latent and waiting to be let free. And now that it was out, we’d never be able to bottle it back up.

  “I…I shouldn’t have—” he started.

  “Yes, oh yes, you should have. You should have a long time ago.”

  With a laugh heavy with emotion and light with relief, he kissed me again, his lips smiling against mine.

  When he let my lips go, I was thankful his arms were around me. I didn’t think I’d otherwise be able to stand.

  He took a seat, his hand holding mine, his eyes on my gloved fingers as he toyed with them.

  “What happens now?” he asked, not looking up.

  It was my turn to kneel at his feet and look into his face, colored with worry and hope. “Well, I’d like to kiss you some more. Maybe until I die.”

  Greg chuckled, but the sound was tight.

  “And tomorrow, I’d like to spend the day with you, if you’d like.”

  He watched me, his face unchanged. “What about Will?”

  I frowned. “We’re through. After tonight, I hope I never see him again.” When his worry didn’t leave, I reached for his face, peering into his eyes. “Do you believe me?”

  He turned his head to press a kiss into my palm. “It’s just been a lot of change in one night. I want to know that you’re sure before I let go of the leash on my hope.”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  He nodded.

  “It wasn’t until y
ou that I learned to see things for what they were. All I had to do was listen to your actions, and I could see what you wanted, what you felt. I could see what was important so I could reach out and grab it. And now that I have a hold, I don’t want to let go.”

  The fear written in the lines of his face smoothed.

  “I’m just sorry I didn’t understand sooner. I didn’t think there was any way you could want me, and you were so quiet about how you felt. Will, on the other hand, is about as quiet as a tuba.”

  A small laugh bobbed his shoulders, but his lips came back together. “So all this time, all I had to do was kiss you for you to know how I felt?”

  I shrugged. “Guess so.”

  “I almost did after the day we spent together. I should have. Did you know when you came to work the next day, I was going to ask you out on a proper date?”

  My heart ached. “But I showed up with Will.”

  Greg nodded and looked back down at my hand in his. “And then…God, Annie. What was I supposed to do? You were happy, and you wanted him. What was I supposed to do?” he repeated, this time to himself.

  “There wasn’t much you could have done. I had to see Will through to the bitter end.”

  He frowned.

  “The more he acted out, the less interested I became. Every time we fought about you, he only underscored your differences and tipped the scales in your direction. Really, you should thank him,” I joked.

  His lips flattened into a line. “Never in a million years. You fought about me?”

  “The morning after the ballet, he was so jealous and angry, and we got into an argument before I left for work.”

  A dark, guilty shadow passed behind his eyes. “That day was unbearable.”

  “It was. But it’s behind us. We’re here now, together. And I really want to kiss you some more. Can I please kiss you some more?”

  He laughed and nodded again, and into his arms I went. And kissing we did. We kissed until we were breathless and our bodies were twisted together so completely, we were left a tangle of arms and legs. I untied his cravat with a whisper of linen and kissed the soft skin of his neck. He ran his fingers across the neckline of my dress, sending a shudder of pleasure down my body. He pulled off my gloves, loosening them finger by finger, sliding them from my arms so I could touch the hot skin of his chest in the slight opening his shirt made.