Chapter Eleven
Eleven
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Earth to Will.”
“Nothing’s up,” Will said quickly. He signaled for Callie, the sweet, young bartender with mile-long legs and strawberry blonde hair, to get his friend a drink. “I got the first round.”
“Appreciate it. You sure you’re okay? Nassir said you quit.”
“I did.” He studied Callie. Wondered if she was written to be gorgeous for some plot-related purpose or just because it was expected of a bartender in a romance novel.
“Fuck me. Really? I thought he was full of shit. What happened?”
Jared was an anesthesiologist. They had started around the same time, clicked over bad break-room coffee when they discovered a mutual love of Final Fantasy and bad medical dramas from the ’80s and ’90s.
Before he responded, Will made sure to check for a script in his head.
If this scene with Jared turned into some kind of surreal book experience, he wasn’t sure he could handle it.
Thankfully, the only words that came to mind were ones he wanted to say.
He still felt a deep stab of pain over the distance he now felt between himself and his best friend.
Jared was looking at him with earnest interest, one hand wrapped around his beer.
His ring finger was conspicuously bare. Will had been his best man four years ago.
Six months ago, Jared and Macey had divorced.
It had been amicable enough, and there were no children, but Jared had needed a friend to lean on. Will had been there for that, too.
And maybe none of it had happened. Maybe none of it mattered.
“I don’t know where to start. I just… woke up one morning questioning everything about my life.”
“Little young for a midlife crisis, buddy.”
“Yet here we are.”
“So you quit your job. Did you at least buy a Ducati while you were at it?”
No, but the idea appealed. Will spared a moment to consider how that would work out.
He could ride across the country with Emmy behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist. Nothing but the open road, the roar of the engine, and the countryside flying by.
Should they wear helmets? Could they die?
Would the book allow it? Jesus, he was starting to think of the book as a god. He rubbed his hand over his face.
“Not yet,” he replied. “It’s a possibility, though.”
“At least do me the favor of taking me with you when you go to buy it. What’s next besides potential motorcycle ownership?”
Will sipped his beer, but he barely tasted it. This was where it got tricky. He couldn’t tell his friend the truth—that he was hoping to find a way to transport himself permanently out of this world and into what he now considered to be the real world.
“There’s this girl,” he found himself saying. The words weren’t part of a script, but he’d been surprised by them nonetheless. Hadn’t had a chance to fight them off. Possibly because they weren’t scripted. He just hadn’t realized he’d want to say them.
“Okay, now we’re talking. This calls for a pitcher.” Will waited obligingly while Jared signaled Callie. He gulped down beer, hoping it would go straight to his head. Then his friend turned back to him. “Where’d you meet her?”
“Uh… funny story, actually.”
“The best meet-cutes start with those words.”
The use of the phrase gave Will a jolt. He hadn’t even considered the rules here.
If he wasn’t real, and he did in fact live in a romance novel—both things he truly believed by this point—were his feelings for Emmy his own?
Was he predisposed to start falling for any attractive woman in his path?
Was he afflicted with Meet-Cute Syndrome just as Emmy was?
Quickly, he glanced over at Callie. Nothing there.
He’d felt some sort of way for Bright, but that had dissipated as soon as he’d realized the truth of their circumstances.
Feeling a little more confident about the state of things, he turned back to Jared, prepared to make up a story of some sort.
He could say he and Emmy had woken up in his bed, explain away the suddenness of it with a night of hard drinking on both their parts, although he didn’t think Emmy would appreciate it.
But as it turned out, he didn’t need to explain a thing.
They were interrupted before he could begin his careful prevarication.
“Hey, Will!”
Both men looked up at Bright, who was standing there smiling, with eyes only for Will.
Jared raised his eyebrows, clearly noting how easily he’d been ignored.
Behind her back, he flicked his glance at Bright to silently ask if this was the woman Will had been talking about.
Will gave a quick, subtle shake of his head.
“Hey, Bright. Didn’t know you were here.”
“I just came in. I do dinner here at least once a week. Geoffrey and Molly make the best shepherd’s pie.”
Panic clawed its way up Will’s chest as he felt words pressing at the inside of his mouth again, trying to wriggle their way out.
Damn it, was this a scene from the book?
Why hadn’t he felt this way when it had just been him and Jared?
He resisted the urge to invite her to sit down, agree with her about the food, and ask her to share a shepherd’s pie and a drink with him.
Right when he was about to open his mouth—maybe to scream something about one or more sea creatures—Jared pointedly cleared his throat.
Bright jolted slightly and looked at him, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“I’m sorry… I’m interrupting.”
An awkward silence ensued. Will let out a relieved breath.
Bright looked utterly perplexed as she stared silently at Jared, and Jared looked like he was trying to decide whether to be offended or amused by the whole situation.
As soon as Jared had cleared his throat, the script in Will’s head evaporated.
The only explanation he could come up with was that, in the book, he’d been drinking alone.
This must have been a scene where he and Bright developed their relationship or something.
But he’d invited Jared to the bar with him instead of going alone, rendering the romantic scene impossible.
Thank God he’d decided against the pity party and texted his friend.
Recovering quickly, he smiled good-naturedly at Bright.
“Jared, this is Bright. Bright, this is my friend Jared.”
“Bright?” Jared asked.
“Yeah, like the opposite of dim,” she murmured, almost as if it were a knee-jerk response. “It’s um… it’s nice to meet you.” She finally recovered, smiled, stuck out her hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where my head is at. It’s nice to meet you,” she repeated with more confidence.
Jared shook it. “Same goes. You own that new store, don’t you? Bright Ideas?”
She smiled a little self-deprecatingly. “Yeah, that’s my place.” She shrugged. “The name was right there.”
“I like it. Gotta work with what you got, right?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
Jared moved over one seat, leaving a stool open between him and Will. “Grab a seat. Order one of those shepherd’s pies.”
Will raised one eyebrow. Their dialogue—he hated to think of it that way, but couldn’t help it—was almost exactly what his and Bright’s should have been.
Bright cast Will an uncertain glance. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. We’re just hanging.”
“Okay.” She sat, then regarded him curiously. “Is uh… is Emmy not here with you?”
Again, Jared gave him that questioning glance behind her back. This time, Will gave him a slight nod. “She’s at the library. Doing some research.”
“Late night research. Is she a grad student?”
It occurred to him he had no idea what her career was. She’d mentioned missing work and being worried that would lead to her being fired, but that left a lot of possibilities. And she’d made it clear the landscaping and gardening thing was just a hobby. Where did that leave him?
“She’s a writer, actually,” he improvised.
“Oh yeah? Like a journalist or…?”
“Romance novels,” Will said and took another gulp of beer.
“No kidding.”
“Must be good in the sack,” Jared commented.
Will gave him a look. “Really, man?”
Bright giggled, accepted the cocktail Callie set in front of her with a grin and a thank you. “I can’t speculate on whether writing about romance makes you automatically good in bed, but I can say that’s a fascinating career. Good for her. Have you been together long?”
It was a probing question, and Will was grateful for it. Maybe this would help set the world to rights so he wouldn’t feel like he had to dodge Bright at every opportunity. “Not too long. A few weeks. It’s still new.”
Something passed over Bright’s face for a moment. It looked like regret and a kind of… grief. Again, she paused, as if unsure how to process this. Then she nodded, smiled again. “She seemed nice. I’ll have to read one of her books sometime.”
“I’ll bring you a copy.” If she asked about it later, he’d grab a book at random and claim the author’s name was Emmy’s pen name.
“Thanks!”
Conversation moved on to how Jared and Will had met.
Jared told most of the story about Will’s short-lived stint in the obstetrics wing where Jared still worked.
As soon as Bright heard he worked in the hospital, she pressed Jared for details.
He was happy to oblige. Before Will knew it, Bright had changed her empty cocktail glass for a pint glass and was sharing the pitcher of beer with Jared.
All the better since Will had to drive soon.
At least he thought it would be soon. He hadn’t heard from Emmy yet.
He checked his phone, sipped at his beer.
It was getting late. He wondered how Emmy was doing at the library by herself.
She’d seemed certain that she could handle any wayward men who tried to ask her out, but…
“Looking for a text from your lady?” Jared asked.
“Yeah. She must be really deep into the research.”
“Look at those puppy eyes. You are gone, man.”
“Shut up, Jared.”
Bright touched Will’s arm. “I think it’s sweet.”
“See?” he said to Jared. “She thinks it’s sweet.”
“So sweet I’m getting a cavity. You gotta work on razzing people, Bright. Single folks are supposed to stick together.”
“We are, huh?” Bright studied Jared as she sipped her beer. “What makes you so sure I’m single?”
“Not sure, pretty lady. Just hoping. So… am I right?”
She watched his face for a moment, then smiled slowly in a way that spoke of hidden depths that any man would be happy to explore. Jared’s throat worked as he swallowed.
“I am,” she said simply. “My last relationship went up in flames shortly before I moved here.”
“Sounds like a story.”
“Maybe. How about you? No way someone who looks like you stays single for long, and it’s clear you’ve got game.”
They were completely involved with each other now.
Will was oddly fascinated by the turn of events.
And, if he was honest with himself, a little hurt at how easily he’d been cast aside.
He’d get over that, though. Checking his phone again and seeing no texts from Emmy, he finished his beer and—though he craved another drink—switched to water.
When he still hadn’t heard from her after he’d polished off the whole glass—as well as the plate of cheese fries Jared had abandoned in favor of flirting with Bright—he decided it was time to check in on her.
He left a generous tip beneath the empty water glass and slipped out of the bar.
Neither Jared nor Bright looked his way.
Emmy was going to like this story. He couldn’t wait to tell her.
It was a little weird how much he was looking forward to seeing her, considering how recently they’d met and how little time they’d been apart that evening, but he couldn’t deny that he felt more at ease with her than he was on his own.
Or with any of the… characters was the right word, he supposed.
Even if it made him cringe to think of his family, friends, and coworkers as characters.
The lack of texts probably meant Emmy was deep in the stacks and not thinking about checking in with him.
Still, if no news turned out to be bad news, he wanted to be there for her.
The library was only a few blocks away—everything was only a few blocks away in Cobalt—and he navigated the streets just fine.
A part of him wondered what would happen if he got pulled over.
He didn’t think he was over the legal limit, but a breathalyzer might say different.
That probably wasn’t supposed to happen in the book.
He kept an eye on his rearview, but the street was quiet.
He made it to the library with no incidents, parked in a spot by the front entrance, and went inside.