Greg

Sleep was an effective reset. I woke the next morning with a sense of renewed purpose. I had a plan in my pocket and a goal in mind: get that girl.

My girl, I’d said last night without thinking. Because the second I’d seen Annie with Will, that was my first and only thought.

Mine.

It was stupid and archaic, savage even, but the instinct was deep and automatic. That single word sang unbidden from my heart at the mere thought of her with another man. Maybe it was because part of me was already hers. Any choice I had to the contrary had long since passed, if there ever had been a choice.

That realization had at least spawned a plan, and when I pulled open the door to Wasted Words on my day off, it was with a donut map in my pocket, a smile on my face, and hope in my heart.

I scanned the store looking for Annie, spotting her behind the register on a stool with her chin propped in her hand and her eyes on an open book on the counter, her face soft and lovely and content. With a spring in my step and my speech on a loop in my mind, I headed over to her.

She looked up, first with the polite reception she would give a customer, a stranger, but when she saw it was me, her eyes lit up like New Year’s Eve.

“Hey,” she said cheerily, closing her book. “I didn’t expect to see you on your day off.”

I smiled, ignoring the squirming nerves in my stomach and that damnable fluttering hope in my chest. “I wanted to bring you something.”

“Ooh, a surprise? I love surprises.”

My smile tilted into a smirk. “Remember the other day when you said you’d like to get your hands on a list of donut shops?”

She nodded, grinning.

“Well, look what I found.” I pulled the map out of my back pocket and slid it across the counter, feeling like a king when her face shifted into sheer elation.

“Oh my God!” She unfurled the map and pored over it. “I’m gonna gain fifty pounds and probably have a heart attack, but it’s gonna be so worth it,” she said with a giggle.

“I was wondering if you wanted to hit a few when your shift is over.”

When she looked up, that fluttering hope took a dive. Her face fell, her green eyes disappointed.

“I’d love to, but Will is picking me up from work to take me out.”

“Ah,” I said, trying to hang on to my smile and mask my own disappointment. “So, are you guys, like…dating?”

She smiled, a bright, hopeful expression on her small face. “I don’t really know yet. But I’m sorry, can we do it another day?”

“Sure.” My mouth felt like the inside of a shoe in the summertime. “Where’s he taking you?”

The question almost sounded like an accusation, but Annie didn’t seem to notice, just flung herself into her explanation with a love-struck smile on her face.

“It’s a surprise. He wouldn’t tell me anything specific, but when we were texting last night, I got the impression that it’d involve a meal at the very least. That was all I could guess though. He’s got me completely in the dark.”

She was beaming and shining, and I consequently had no idea what else to say, my plans chucked out the window and my speech lying uselessly in the back of my mind.

I swallowed the stone in my throat, anxious to get out of her space so I could sort through my tumbling thoughts.

“Well, I hope you guys have fun. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

“Wait,” she said, her smile fading. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I lied.

“Because yesterday—” Her eyes darted behind me. “Will!”

The change to her face was so complete, so crystal clear, there could be no denying her feelings. But the more painful realization was this: the way she looked at him was nothing like the way she looked at me. He was the center of the universe, and I was Pluto, spinning around in the freezing cold on the edge of the solar system.

Annie walked around the register counter, stopping when she reached him like she wasn’t exactly sure how to greet him.

That Motherfucker had no problem showing her.

He stepped into her like the interloper that he was, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, the other winding around her waist as he bent to press a chaste kiss on her cheek, a cheek that flushed eagerly under his touch.

I wondered if that was a first, something she would check off her list, and the thought made me so angry, I worried I might crawl out of my skin right there in the middle of the bookstore. My breath was shallow, chest on fire, but somehow the rest of me was a well-maintained mask of calm.

Will glanced at me, his arm still around Annie. “Brandon,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

“Bailey.” The bite in the word was low, but it was there all the same.

His eyes told me he’d heard it, and he’d heard it loud and clear.

Annie was as oblivious as ever, her eyes on his face with adoration. “Let me just go clock out and grab my things, okay?” She swung by the counter and retrieved the map, folding it back up before extending it to me. “Here, don’t forget this, Greg.”

I waved her off. “Keep it.”

She took the map back with her cheer fading. “All right. Thanks.” Her gaze met Will’s. “I’ll be right back.”

He offered her a winning smile. “I’ll be right here.”

She floated away, leaving us alone.

Will Bailey and I stared each other down for a solid count of five before I turned to leave, unwilling to give him any more of my energy than I had to. And by energy, I meant full and unadulterated rage.

“Do you like her?” he asked my back.

I stopped dead and turned around slow, flattening him with a heavy glare. “Looks like she’s with you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t owe you anything, especially not an answer. You didn’t deserve my sister, and you don’t deserve Annie either.”

“What’s your problem, Brandon?”

My teeth ground together so hard, my jaw ached. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.”

He shook his head. “It’s been a long time since Sarah, and I’m not the same guy I was. Annie’s different—I know you see it too. I’m not going to hurt her.”

“Let me tell you something, Bailey.” My hands fisted, quieting their trembling by force. “If you do, I will end you. Do you hear me?”

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded once.

“Good.” I turned, storming away with thunder at my back.

“But don’t get in my way,” he said from behind me, bringing me to a halt. “If you think it hurts now, just remember—I can make it so much worse.”

I didn’t acknowledge his words with a response, but they sank into my veins with an icy chill that did little to cool the fire in my chest.

Annie was heading toward me, but I didn’t slow down.

“Hey, Cam wanted to see you,” she said as I approached, her coat hanging over her forearms and her brow curious.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

I marched to the back of the store as she called Bye after me.

Once in the back and away from them, I felt better by a small degree. I was even able to stop considering all the ways I could murder Will and the places where I could dump his body. In the office, Rose was sitting in front of her laptop across from Cam, who was kicked back in her rolling chair with her Chucks on the surface of her desk and a lollipop in her mouth.

She smiled around it, the white stick hooked in the corner of her lips. “What’s up, man?”

I relaxed my clamped jaw. “Nothing. You wanted to see me?”

Her smile faded, and Rose turned to look at me. Both of them wore discerning expressions.

“Well,” Cam started, “I was going to ask you if you could send me the bar schedule for next week, but now I’m gonna insist you tell me what’s the matter.”

“Yes, I’ll send you the schedule, and I really don’t want to talk right now.”

One eyebrow rose, and she nodded to a chair next to their desks with authority that brooked no argument.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, dropping into the chair. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Rose closed her laptop and rested her elbow on her desk. “Is this about Annie?” she asked plainly.

“Well, she’s with that fucking douchebag!” I spouted, flinging a hand back in the direction I’d come from. “I mean, of all the guys in New York, she had to find him.”

Cam moved her feet to the ground and reached into a jar on her desk, her hand reappearing with a purple lollipop, which she extended to me. “Here. You need this.”

I took it, tugging at the cellophane wrapper before popping it into my mouth. It really did make me feel a little better. Or maybe my mouth just needed something to do so it would shut the fuck up already.

Either way, when I spoke again, it was with a little more control. “He’s not a good guy. I know because he dated my sister.”

I told them an abbreviated version of what had happened with Sarah, and their faces grew heavier with every word.

“Okay, I see the problem,” Cam started. “And we all know you’re into Annie.”

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Like a blinking neon sign, dude,” Rose said, opening and closing her hands at me like they were in fact blinking lights.

I sighed and closed my lips around the sucker stick, working that candy like I might find answers in the middle. “I had this big, stupid plan to take her out today, but he was here to take her on a fucking date. A date! And now I feel like a fool and a creep and a loser while she’s fawning over that asshole.”

“Are they together?” Rose asked.

“I mean, they’ve known each other for, like, five minutes. They’ve never even been on a date—until today.” I sulked.

Cam nodded. “Then there’s still time. You just need a plan. I don’t think you’re wrong to want to get her away from him. And I’ve seen you two together at work. It’s obvious you guys have chemistry.”

“Cam,” Rose warned.

“What?” she asked innocently. “You even said you saw it too, so don’t act like I’m off base.”

Rose rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying,” Cam said, turning back to me, “until it’s, like, official, I feel like you’ve got some wiggle room. You could ask her to the historical costume mixer. I know she loves historicals, so I have a feeling she’d be way into it.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah, I guess, but we’ll both be working.”

“What other ideas do you have?” Cam asked. “You should have seen her talking about your day together. Based on that alone, I’d say you definitely have a shot.”

The thought only made me feel more miserable. “I was thinking about asking Rose for tickets to the ballet. One of Annie’s things on her list is to see a Broadway show.”

Cam lit up. “Oh my God, do it. Take her to the Russian Tea Room and the ballet. Do it. Do it!” She bounced in her seat. “Rose, get him tickets!”

Rose laughed. “I can get you tickets, easy.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little obvious?” I asked.

“Well, why be subtle? It’s romantic, and she’ll feel like a princess,” Cam insisted. “If there’s anything between you, she won’t be able to avoid it after a night like that. Think of it like…like a litmus test.”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know if she’ll agree.”

At that, Cam smiled with mischief on her mind. “Well, you know I’ll help however I can. Need me to create an elaborate ruse? No prob. Well-placed encouragement? Consider it done.”

And just like that, my fluttering hope was back, and my sense of self-preservation was shot. “You think I can honestly make it happen?”

“I know so. Don’t you worry.”

And for a brief, blissful moment, I let myself believe.

Annie

I took Will’s arm and let him usher me out of Wasted Words, but my mind was turned back to Greg.

He was upset, and I was the reason.

If I hadn’t had plans with Will, I would have gone with Greg on the donut scavenger hunt in a heartbeat—not just because I enjoyed spending time with him so much, but because I really wanted to talk to him. I had a million questions for him but no opportunity to ask.

He’d remembered my mention of something in passing, found a way to see it through, and come to work on his day off to deliver it to me. The gesture was considerate and kind, and telling him no hurt—not just because I wanted to go, but because of the look of disappointment on his face.

I wanted to see Greg happy, wanted to make him happy, wanted to give him a million yeses. And I would have, if it hadn’t been for Will. Who was, if I had to guess, the other reason Greg was so upset. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye when I said goodbye.

Judging by the testosterone fumes left lingering in the air, I thought they’d had words again, and I wanted to know what they were. It was no surprise they didn’t get along. I knew Greg was protective, and if Will had hurt his sister, Greg would have defended her with his last breath.

And I was itching to hear the story from Greg. Because what Will had said, especially about Greg hating him for having money, didn’t sound like the Greg I knew at all.

I knew Greg well enough to know that he was solid and loyal and honorable. He wouldn’t lie, and if he had a problem, there was probably just cause.

On really thinking about it, I realized I knew him better than I’d fully admitted. There was a strange connection between us, something latent and natural. It just was. We just were.

It was a reminder of how little control we had over chemistry. When you typically met someone, you found commonality, connections, topics for conversation, but it was some level of work, even if it was enjoyable work. It took effort. But sometimes, we met people we fell into stride with so naturally that the connection required no thought or cultivation; it threw all of your other relationships into shadow by the sheer brilliance of the light.

That was Greg and me—easy and uninhibited, a joining of two streams to make a river.

Which is why he’s such a great friend, I told the part of myself that imagined it could be more than that.

“You okay?” Will asked as he opened the car door.

“I was just thinking about Greg,” I said before climbing in.

Will stiffened, waiting for me to scoot all the way in before getting in behind me. “What about him?”

“Did you fight? He seemed upset.”

Will rolled his shoulder in a shrug. “He doesn’t like me, Annie, and he never will.”

I frowned at the prospect that they’d never get along. “You can’t be civil?”

“I can. I don’t know if he can.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I resolved, the conversation already working in my mind.

He let out a sigh. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“Psh, I run strictly on hopes.”

That earned me a little bit of a smile.

I changed the subject in the interest of not ruining my first date. “So, where are we going?”

He reached for my hand. “You’ll see. How was your day?”

“Largely uneventful until there at the end,” I teased. “How about you?”

“The worst. I’ve been waiting all day for this.” He smiled, a sweet, genuine curve of his lips.

“Where do you work?”

The smile faltered. “I’m in between things right now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. College and adulthood,” he said. “I graduated from Yale last year, but I’m not ready to lock into a career. Fortunately, I’m in the unique position to do absolutely nothing for as long as I want.”

I chuckled. “Must be nice.”

“It is. My parents even approve; can you believe that? My dad said he took a few years off to travel and said I should do the same.”

“Well,” I started, “if you’d lived a couple hundred years ago in England, you would have been a gentleman. Like, that would have been your job—to do nothing.”

He shook his head with mock regret. “I always thought I was an old soul.”

I laughed, and he pulled me a little closer until I was leaning into him.

“Speaking of gentlemen in historical England…”

“That’s an unexpected segue.”

“Speaking of,” I continued, “there’s a costume mixer at the bar later this week, and I was wondering what you were doing Friday night.”

One corner of his lips rose. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“I guess I am. That is, unless you’re dead inside and you hate costume parties.”

“I love costume parties, especially costume parties I get to attend with a gorgeous girl on my arm. What’s the theme?”

“Well, it’s historical night—we’re supposed to dress up as half of a fictional historical couple. Guys who wear cravats get five-dollar wells. Otherwise, they won’t dress up.”

A laugh burst out of him. “Yeah, I could see that. So, who do you want to go as? Lizzie and Darcy?”

My mouth popped open in surprise. “You know Pride and Prejudice?”

He shrugged, but he looked mighty proud of himself. “I was a lit major.”

“You took a course on Jane Austen at Yale?”

“I took a class in romance in classical literature. Pride and Prejudice was at the top of the reading list, as was Byron, works from each Brontë sister, Shakespeare’s sonnets—to name a few.”

I stared at him, so blissfully stunned, I couldn’t speak for a moment. “That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard a man say.”

He pulled me a little closer. “Oh, but you haven’t even heard the good stuff.”

I laughed to stop myself from sighing and melting into him like warm butter on a biscuit.

“So, no,” I said, trying to get a handle on my brain, “not Lizzie and Darcy—too predictable. I was actually thinking of doing a newer historical. My first thought was to pick one of Julia Quinn’s couples. Have you heard of her?”

“No, I haven’t, but I don’t read much romance.”

“That’s fair, but these aren’t just romances; these are fairy tales. They’re the most satisfying, entertaining stories, books that touch your heart, make you feel, make you want to sing and dance and laugh and cry, all within a few pages,” I said earnestly and with a little too much enthusiasm.

He smiled down at me. “Well then, I’ll have to read one. Which one should I start with?”

“Would you really read one? Really?”

“Of course I will,” he said on a laugh.

“Well,” I said excitedly, “my favorite is Eloise’s book, but—oh! Francesca’s, ugh, it’s so good, and there’s this big, beautiful Scotsman. But maybe…” I thought for a second, assessing his face like I was going to determine what color he would wear best. “You know, I think you should read Anthony’s book. Enemies to lovers,” I said with a waggle of my brows. “I’ll pick one up for you at Wasted Words. We have a billion copies or something.”

“A billion? That’s a lot of books. So, which couple should we go as?”

“Sophie and Benedict,” I answered definitively. “It’s a Cinderella story, and her gown is just beautiful…” I trailed off, my heart sinking. “I don’t know where I might actually get a dress like that.”

“I bet I can find one. My brother’s on Broadway, and he has access to, like, a billion costumes.”

I gaped, slack-jawed again. “He sings on Broadway? Like, the Broadway?”

“The one and only.”

I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. “What’s he in?”

“Right now, he’s in Hamilton.”

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “I’d never joke about something so serious as the theater.”

I laughed.

“I can get tickets to pretty much anything too, if you want to go.”

“That would actually blow my mind. I might not survive.”

“As long as it doesn’t blow your heart, I’ll take you.”

“No promises on that either.”

The car pulled over in the park, and Will straightened up, smiling. “Ah, we’re here.”

He opened the door and slid out, extending his hand, which I took. A moment later, we were walking toward the reservoir.

“You took me by surprise, Annie,” he said as we approached the place where we’d met.

“A fainting girl will do that, I’ve heard,” I teased.

“But it’s more than that. You’re just…different.”

“Good different or bad different?”

He pulled me to a stop. “Good. Definitely good.” And then he turned me around to face a grassy knoll where a gorgeous picnic lay, spread out over a massive plaid.

I sucked in a breath, swinging around to face him. “Will, it’s perfect!”

And as I tugged him toward the blanket, he laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound.

A charcuterie board was stacked with freshly cut meats and cheeses, a basket stuffed with bread was at its side, and another little tray held tiny jars with sauces and spreads. Another board held crackers and more cheese—glorious cheese—and was broken up by bundles of grapes and stacks of apple slices. There were trays of tarts and chocolate-covered strawberries, blocks of white and dark chocolate. It was a bona fide feast, laid out on a navy-and-emerald tartan.

“How in the world did you manage all this?” I asked as I sat, wide-eyed, to one side of the spread.

Will sat opposite me, still looking absolutely delighted. And delightful. “Well, would you think I was an asshole if I said my cook put together the picnic?”

I laughed, a little shocked. He had a cook. Of course he had a cook.

“And then I had my assistant come set it all up and wait for us so no one jacked it.”

I raised my eyebrows, smirking as I stacked cheese and sausage on a cracker. “Your assistant?”

He flushed a little, rubbing the back of his neck, but he was smiling. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“Well, thank him for me. Or her?”

“Him.”

I felt a petty measure of relief that it wasn’t a woman. “It’s perfect. Today is perfect. Yesterday was perfect. Everything’s just…”

“Perfect?”

I laughed and popped the cracker in my mouth.

Perfect.

A few hours later, we were sitting in the back of a horse-drawn carriage, circling Central Park. The sun had set, and it had gotten colder, but I was warm, tucked into Will’s side under the heavy blanket.

He’d been the best sport, not teasing me when I broke out my camera a dozen times to note the moments. But I hadn’t told him about my list, which made it that much sweeter when he didn’t lose his patience or seem bored while I fooled with the charcuterie board or when I asked him to take a selfie with me. In fact, he’d asked me to take two so he could have one too.

I sighed, feeling lazy and happy and a little like I was dreaming as we ambled around the park. Neither of us had spoken for a while, the silence between us content, the time marked by the clop of the horse’s hooves and the gentle swaying of the carriage.

“You know,” I started, “when my dad died, I made this list of things I’d never done before.”

He pulled me a little closer but didn’t interrupt.

“We lost so much. Not just him, which was devastating on its own. Mama lost her legs, and we lost our home, our lives. And I wondered, How will we ever survive? How can we dust ourselves off and go on?” I took a slow breath that left me in a puff of smoke. “So, I started writing down all the things I’d never done, things I wanted to do. Ways to fill up my life and my heart. Because I didn’t want to live quietly anymore. I wanted to live loudly. I didn’t want to wait for life to come to me. I didn’t want to experience it through books and music alone; I wanted to do the things that inspired me.”

“Has it worked?” he asked quietly.

“It has. It’s given me hope when I thought hope was lost.”

Will didn’t say anything for a moment, and neither did I.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what kinds of things are on your list?”

“Oh, lots of things—most of them silly, some of them not. Like, I wanted to eat a hot dog out of a cart and traverse the Brooklyn Bridge. There are some books I’ve always wanted to read. I want to eat ice cream when it’s snowing and dance on the beach in the moonlight. I want to live, and my list exists as a way to make that living tangible and achievable.”

Will didn’t speak for a moment, but when he did, his voice had a strange quality to it, velvety and wondrous.

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night 

And watching, with eternal lids apart, 

Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite, 

The moving waters at their priestlike task 

Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores…

“I can never remember the—” he started.

And my throat tightened as I recited the rest.

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask 

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—

No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, 

Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, 

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, 

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, 

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, 

And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

“Keats,” I breathed. “I love that poem.”

“It describes you exactly, I think. You’re a wonder, Annie. I’ve never known anyone quite like you.”

I turned in his arms and looked into his eyes, emboldened by our connection. “Did you know that this entire date was on my list?”

He smiled. “Is it?”

I nodded, feeling a rush of anticipation zip through me when his gaze dropped to my lips.

“What else is on this list that I should know about?”

“I’ve never been kissed.” It was a permission wrapped up in a request, and I held my breath as I waited for his answer.

His eyes caught mine and held them. “How is that even possible?”

I shrugged and looked down, my confidence faltering.

But he touched my chin and lifted it until our eyes met. “Well,” he said softly, “I think I’d like to be the one who crosses that off, too.”

He leaned in, our breath mingling, and then…he kissed me.

For something I’d thought so much about, something I’d anticipated for so many years, I found myself stiff and still and unsure. His lips pressed mine—not too hard, not too soft, wet but not too wet.

Perfectly adequate by all scales I had at my disposal—which, admittedly, weren’t vast.

The kiss was fine, sweet even, if not a little sterile. But the admission in my sinking heart was that there were no fireworks, no marching band, no parting of the heavens or a hallelujah chorus. And, by more normal expectations, there was no spark, no instinctive recognition or undeniable bond between us.

Maybe I’d read too many romance novels to expect anything less than to have my breath stolen and my heart singing promises of forever.

When he pulled away, he smiled that indulgent smile of his, and I smiled back, hoping I looked reassuring as I nestled into his side.

I’d expected magic, and I’d gotten mediocre.

I shouldn’t have been disappointed, but I was.

It had to be due to my complete lack of experience. I had probably been the worst kiss of his life. That was the only explanation because the date was perfect. The company and conversation was perfect. If the kiss really had been lackluster—I was already trying to rewrite history in my mind—it had to be on me and my lack of practice.

I smiled to myself, hoping practice would make that perfect, too.

“So, if you’ve never been kissed, is it safe to assume you’ve never had a boyfriend either?” he asked, his thumb shifting back and forth on my arm.

“I haven’t,” I admitted. “No one’s caught my attention before.”

“I’m the first for that too? It’s dangerous how good that makes me feel.”

I nestled a little closer, smiling up at the stars.

“Think you might want a boyfriend?” The words were cautious, maybe even a little nervous.

“Are you asking me to go steady?” I teased.

A little chuckle escaped him. “I know it’s corny, but the truth is, I really like you, Annie. I don’t want to see anyone else, and I hope you don’t either. On top of the possibility that I could get addicted to checking off your firsts.”

When I leaned away and looked into his eyes, his smile dazzling and his warm hand finding my cheek, there was nothing I could say but yes. And he kissed the word away until it was gone.