Austen Box Set

by Hart, Staci

“Wow, Cam. That bad?”

  My throat tightened, and I swallowed down tears. “No, it wasn’t bad at all. It was perfect. He’s perfect.”

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and sniffed, meet her eyes for only a millisecond before looking away. “I don’t know, Rose…” I struggled to find the words, flashes of the night before rolling through my mind. “I’m just really confused.”

  “What happened?”

  “We went to the party and everything was fine. Great, even. I felt right with him. But then I ran into his friend who told me — not for the first time, mind you — that I’m not for Tyler. He said Tyler was going to get bored and move on. That I’m not his type.”

  She blinked, surprised. “What a dick. Why would he say that to you?”

  I shrugged. “He’s not wrong.”

  “I dunno. I can’t believe that Tyler would get bored and up and leave anyone.”

  “I don’t belong in the same universe as him. Caring about him isn’t enough, Rose. I’m not enough. Being with him last night just proved it. You should have seen his ex. You know that meat sock dress I tried on the other day?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Yeah.”

  “Well, she had on the Armani version of it, and she looked like she walked off the cover of Vanity Fair.”

  “So?”

  I shook my head. “You don’t understand, Rose. Look at you. You’re beautiful and edgy and smart, and guys love you — I mean, you legit have one of the hottest guys in Manhattan plowing you with his pierced dick.”

  A laugh shot out of her. “Oh, my God.”

  “But that’s not me,” I said, forging on. “I don’t date the hot guys. I did that once and I got burned. I get the guys who are prematurely balding and play Diablo, not the beautiful ex-football players. I’m way out of my league, and when he realizes it, when he leaves me …” I swallowed again, my nose burning. “I don’t think I can recover from that, Rose.”

  “So you end it before it’s begun?”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to end it.”

  “No, but if you keep this up you won’t have a choice. You have Tyler Knight tripping all over himself to convince you that he wants to be with you. What’s the problem here?”

  “Me.” I said sadly.

  Rose rolled her chair over to the file cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Maker’s. “You need a drink.” She rolled back and picked up my empty coffee cup, wiping the inside off with her sweatshirt sleeve before pouring a finger of whiskey.

  “It’s eight in the morning, Rose.”

  “So what?”

  She held it out like it was medicine, and I took it with a sigh. It burned when I sipped it.

  “Ah, ah. Drink up, kid.”

  I rolled my eyes and took the shot, eyes pinching shut against the heat.

  “Okay,” she said, “so I want to know two things. First, did you tell Tyler what his friend said? And second, what happened to you before that messed you up so bad?”

  I rubbed my face, hating myself. “No, I didn’t tell Tyler what he said. What good would it do?”

  “For as smart as you are, you’re being a real dummy,” she said flatly, with love. “He would want to know. Wouldn’t you want to know if someone warned him off of you?”

  I sniffed. “Yeah.”

  “You have to tell him, even if it’s only so he can tell you it’s not true.”

  “You really think it will help?”

  “Absolutely. Now tell me about whatever else has you twisted up.”

  I blew out a breath. “You know how I’m all about sorting people?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, I think really I’ve been sorting myself, trying to keep myself safe from getting hurt again.” I told her all about Will, about the shame, about how I felt like such a fool while she sat and listened, eyes sad.

  When I was finished, she didn’t say anything, not right away. She grabbed my coffee cup and reached for the whiskey again. “You need another drink.”

  She passed it over, nodding at me when I hesitated.

  I sighed and took a sip, and I was glad she didn’t make me shoot it again.

  “Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, and I need you to hear me.”

  I nodded.

  She leaned forward. “Come closer.”

  I leaned forward too, cracking a hint of a smile.

  She looked me dead in the eye and said, “Tyler is not Will.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “Do you hear me? He’s not Will. The rules you made? The shelves people belong on? You’ve created them yourself. You’ve built your own prison out of something imaginary, and you ended up hurt anyway.”

  Tears welled up, and I blinked them back. “You’re right,” I said quietly.

  “Yes, I am.” She sighed. “You need to talk to him.”

  I sank back into my chair. “We’ve talked it to death, Rose.”

  “Well, then talk to its ghost. You can’t just pack it up and shut him down. Did you guys …”

  I nodded, feeling sick at the thought of bringing it up to him again. You promised. “Last night. It was …” I blinked against the stinging in the corners of my eyes. “He’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  “I still don’t see a problem here.” Her gaze was hard as she waited for an answer I didn’t have.

  “I told you. I’m a mess. I’m hung up on a million stupid things, and it’s making me crazy. And my crazy is hurting him. I don’t know what to do, how to make it right. I mean, how do you rationalize something that’s irrational? I feel completely out of control.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing, Cam. You don’t always have to hang on to control. What happens when you let go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe you fly.”

  “Maybe I fall.”

  “Sure, but maybe you fly. Isn’t it worth the risk? You’re sabotaging yourself, and you’re doing it by the rules you set up to protect yourself.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You know,” she said, “I admire you for so much — your brains, your skills, your … I don’t know. Energy. But you’re not always right, and you’re not right about this.” She watched me for a second. “You need to talk to him, but this time you actually need to say something. You need to come clean all the way down to your toes, bare it all.”

  Hope sprang in my chest at the thought of telling him, of letting it go. “How’d you get to be so smart?”

  “Years of being stupid and learning from it. Will he be home tonight?”

  “He’s leaving for Nebraska today.”

  She shook her head. “I really think you should talk to him before he leaves.”

  “Like, call him? I don’t know if we should do that over the phone.”

  “Like, get out of here and go talk to him. You’re no use to me like this anyway. Nobody likes a sad bartender. Grumpy, maybe. But sad? Definitely not. Go home. Talk to him. Tell him why. Make it right before he leaves town for the weekend, or you’ll end up driving yourself crazy.”

  “After last night …” I paused. “I promised him I’d let it go, Rose. How can I bring it up again?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think you can let it go until you tell him every fear you have, every hurt, all of it.”

  “Neither do I.”

  She sighed. “He’s right — he can only do so much. You’ve got to do the rest.” She sat up a little straighter and leaned on her desk. “All right, I have a new job for you today. First, go by Cake on the way home and get a cupcake. Get two, if the spirit moves you. Second, eat the damn cupcake and think about what you’re going to say. Third, go home and find a way to tell him everything.”

  I looked away, staring at nothing in particular. “It’s so simple. I wish I’d told him before, but I just … I don’t know. I never talk about Will. I hate that it happened to me, and I’m ashamed of it, you know? It’s one of those things that you replay over and
over again, the thing I can’t let go. My biggest regret. And to tell him about Kyle too? I don’t even know how he’s going to react, on top of the fact that I’m about to break my promise and try to talk to him about my doubts again.”

  “But this is the last time. If you take him a cupcake too, it might make things easier for you. Just saying.”

  I smiled, though it slipped. “I don’t feel right leaving you solo today.”

  She raised a brow. “Would it make you feel better if I promise to call you if I need you?”

  “Only if you mean it.”

  “My definition of need is maybe different from yours, but I mean it. If I really need you, I’ll call you.”

  I drew in a long breath and let it out. “Thanks, Rose.”

  Her face was soft, and she stood, pulling me into a hug. “You can do this. I know you can.”

  I found confidence, already thinking about how I’d tell him. Dread rolled through me, wondering if he’d be angry that I was still hung up on it, wondering what he’d say.

  Just talk to him.

  So I’d tell him about Kyle. About Will. I’d tell him about the rules, my hurt, as much as I didn’t want to, as much as it would hurt. And maybe with that admission, I could let it go. It was my last stand, and as I headed to pick up cupcakes, I hoped that it would be enough.

  * * *

  Tyler

  I smiled down at my clothes, neatly stacked in piles on my bed next to my duffle bag, feeling happier than I had in a long, long time.

  The memory of Cam in my arms was still fresh, the smell of her somehow all over me. I glanced down at her ring, the flash of silver on my pinkie, reminding me of her smile, of her promise. The feeling that the worst was behind us washed over me again, a sweet relief. My soul had had enough angst.

  I was happy to move on, hand in hand with her, and I had the fleeting thought of forever.

  I smiled wider, brushing the thought away playfully, hoping I was right as I packed my bag, stuffing the gifts for my sisters and mom between the stacks.

  The thought of sleeping without Cam for the next few nights wasn’t appealing, and I downright loathed the fact that I was leaving so soon after last night. I replayed it in my mind, as I had been all morning, hitting all the high points. Her smile. Her laugh. Her body. Her words.

  After all of that, after bearing my heart to her, it was undeniable. She had to know. She had to believe. And she promised we were moving on.

  I heard the front door open, and my brow quirked when I glanced at the clock. I’d been minutes away from leaving, planning on swinging by the bar on my way to surprise her and say goodbye.

  Cam appeared in my doorway, looking small, and I smiled, confused.

  “Hey,” I said, hands stilling. “What are you doing home?”

  She rolled one shoulder in a shrug, a smile on her face with a hint of uncertainty. “Rose gave me the day off.”

  “Why?” I asked thickly, still not understanding what was going on.

  She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again.

  Nerves pricked the back of my neck. “What’s wrong, Cam?”

  Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth. “I’ve been thinking—”

  “You think too much.” It was a quiet joke that wasn’t at all a joke. My heart ticked up a notch.

  “I know. I just think we need to talk—”

  “Cam,” I interrupted, my voice low. “You promised.”

  She nodded. “I know I did, and I meant it.”

  My hands were ice cold, my brow dropping. “But here you are, not even twelve hours later, wanting to talk?” Frustration rolled through me like a storm. “Twice you’ve tried to leave me. Twice in one week. If this makes the third, I can’t … I don’t …”

  “If we could just talk about it—”

  “I don’t know what else there is to say. I know I said I’d be there for you, that I’d have your back but I can’t do this alone. You’re out to protect yourself, but what about me? Do I still just have to keep getting hurt, over and over again? I’ve done everything I know to do to reassure you, Cam. Everything. But even after last night, even after …” I swallowed hard, forcing the emotion back down. “After everything, you still doubt me.”

  Her eyes shone with tears. “It’s not that easy for me, Tyler. I’m scared, and this is how I really feel. I know it’s annoying, I know you don’t want to talk about it. But you can’t just kiss it away like you do because it won’t stay gone. We just need to talk—”

  “No,” I shot, hands shaking. “No more talking. I can’t talk anymore, Cam. I can’t just keep hashing it out, over and over. I’ve done everything I can to convince you. Everything. And you still don’t believe me. I’ve got nothing left to give. You promised, Cam. You promised.”

  Her brow dropped. “This isn’t fair, Tyler. I told you from the beginning that I was crazy. You know me, maybe better than anyone. How do you of all people not understand?”

  “Fair?” The word was tight and low, full of my hurt. “After all of this, you say I’m not being fair?”

  “Well, you’re not! You won’t even talk to me!”

  “Because we’ve already fucking talked about it, and I’m done.”

  Her face bent in pain, chin quivering. “I just wanted to explain myself. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Too late.” I took a breath and grabbed a stack of clothes, shoving them into my bag haphazardly.

  “Tyler—”

  “Stop.” My voice boomed, louder than I meant, and she jolted at the sound. I took a shuddering breath, clenching my fist, letting it go, willing myself to calm down. “I get it. You’re right. I can’t drag you into this. I can’t force you to care. I can’t make you let me in. This is on you.” I shoved another stack of clothes in, then my shaving kit, heart banging, palms sweating. “I can’t do this with you.”

  Her breath caught. “Now? Or ever?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got to go.”

  I zipped up my bag and picked it up, trying to breathe, but the air caught in my lungs like sandpaper when I saw her standing there, small and scared. My pulse raced in my ear, a thump and a whoosh, then another as I fumbled through my thoughts, watching her there in front of me, everything I ever wanted, everything I couldn’t have. I wanted to pick her up and hold her, tell her I needed her. But I’d already done that very thing. The only thing left to do was let her go. So I swallowed the words I wanted to say and did just that.

  LOST

  Cam

  The door slammed hard enough to make me jump, snapping me out of the haze as I stood in the corner of Tyler’s room.

  I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to think, only wanted to feel the hollow in my chest. He’d taken my heart out the door with him.

  I made it across the few steps to his bed and sank onto it, staring at nothing. And then, the tears came — confused tears that burned my eyes and nose, tears that left me with sobs that tore out of my throat, unwanted, unbidden.

  I was too late. I’d lost him.

  He was right, about everything. I’d hurt him, and I’d only keep hurting him. I’d had it all, and I pushed him too far. I should have told him about everything long before, but I didn’t think it would matter so much. If I’d only realized it did. If only I’d talked to him about what mattered from the start.

  If only.

  He was right, but he was wrong. I was right, but I was wrong.

  Nothing made any sense anymore.

  It was a long while before my tears ran dry, and I lay curled on top of Tyler’s comforter, trying not to think about how it smelled like him. Trying not to think about what would happen when he came back. Would we actually talk? Or would he leave? Move out? And then, after that, would I ever see him again?

  The thought ripped through me, tears I thought were dry springing up, fresh and new. I didn’t know how I could ever be without him. And as happy as he’d made me, I regretted doing it. Because now … now he was gone, maybe fore
ver.

  I sniffled and picked up my glasses, slipping them back onto my nose before I hauled myself out of his bed. I stood idly in the living room, not knowing what to even do with myself, finally deciding to lie on the couch. I grabbed a soft, furry throw blanket and lay down, curling up into a ball. I turned on a Warpaint album, letting the moody sound fill the room and my empty chest, not planning on moving. Maybe ever.

  Every moment with Tyler played through my mind, memory after memory. I lay there for hours like that, listening to the album on repeat, lost in my thoughts. Sometimes tears would fall. Sometimes I would lie still and quiet, staring at nothing. Sometimes I would close my eyes and picture him walking through the door, telling me he’d never give up.

  My stomach rumbled, and I rolled off the couch, wrapped in the blanket like a burrito, my legs stiff as I shuffled into the dark kitchen. I flicked on the light over the stove and saw the box of cupcakes, immediately certain that they were the best dinner I could possibly ask for.

  Three gigantic cupcakes later, I was really glad I’d gotten half a dozen, barely noticing the crumbs down the front of me as I licked my fingers with a sigh, staring at the fridge across from me. It was covered with pictures — Tyler and me at football games, Tyler wearing a pink, ruffly apron, holding a pie, me dressed up at ComicCon. There were ticket stubs from games too, and the Nebraska football schedule, right next to the Iowa schedule. The rest of the space was filled with poetry magnets. A haiku Tyler wrote about beer.

  I took a breath. I let it out. Then I did it again. It was all I could manage.

  I knew I needed a distraction, but I could think of nothing that sounded appealing. Everywhere I looked, he was there — his shoes next to the couch, his jacket hanging on its peg on the wall. And when it wasn’t something of his, it was something that reminded me of him. The stack of books on the shelf under the coffee table — the books he’d rejected. Sitting on top of the table was The Hobbit, and I realized he must have left it by accident in his rush to leave.

  I wanted to pick it up, but I couldn’t. As if touching it would summon even more memories of him.

  I grabbed my speaker and shuffled into my room, closing the door. At least in there, everything was mine — the only thing he’d affected was my bed. As I climbed in, I could smell him again on my extra pillow, on my sheets, on my blanket. Everywhere. But after a while, I’d stop noticing it. It would stop hurting.