Chapter Twelve
Twelve
There were three stacks on the table in front of her.
The biggest one was books she had skimmed and rejected.
The names didn’t match and the writing styles were vastly different.
Opposite the rejects was the pile she’d yet to go through.
In front of her was a smaller pile of maybes.
The names didn’t match—not that she expected them to, as Big Brother Google had declared the author nonexistent—but the writing style was similar.
It was still anyone’s guess if she was supposed to look for the book she’d been reading—the one she was currently in—or a book that was about her.
Maybe, just maybe, she would find a book about Emmy Miura that she could read in order to get back to her world.
Then again, maybe she wasn’t supposed to look for a book at all.
There was always the possibility that she was only going to get out if Will agreed to somehow force himself to fall in love with Bright, and she couldn’t ask him to do that.
There was also the galling possibility that there was no way out, and she was stuck long-term in a world of make-believe.
Last night, lying in her borrowed bed, she found her mind constantly wandering back to this possibility, that she was trapped forever.
That she’d never see her friends or family again.
Never find her way back to a world that she belonged to.
Then she remembered that Will was feeling the exact same way, and he only felt that way because of her.
Any time she felt like giving up, she thought of him rather than herself.
For him, she would keep going. Until she was old and gray if she had to.
Good God, she hoped it didn’t come to that.
When she heard footsteps behind her, she assumed Will had come to find her. How long had it been anyway? She checked her phone and was shocked to see she’d been at this for hours. Good thing Will was here. Her brain needed a break.
“You must be a fast reader.”
She looked up with surprise and some trepidation to see one of the guys who’d tried to ask her out on her first unfortunate sojourn into town.
She recognized the messenger bag. Was it Lost Guy?
She couldn’t put a name to his face, but she was pretty sure that was because he hadn’t introduced himself at the time.
When she only stared blankly, he coughed uncomfortably and shrugged.
“Lots of books,” he mumbled. “We met the other day in the park. You were going to give me directions, but then that jogger came up and started hassling us. I lost track of you after that.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that, but I was um… late and I had to run.”
“Hey, no worries. As soon as you left, he backed off. Good thing, too. I think he was getting ready to punch me.”
“I’m glad that worked out.” Emmy didn’t like sitting there while he was standing.
He kind of towered over her. Not much would change if she stood up—he was still tall enough to tower over her—but it would at least put her in a position to beat a hasty retreat.
She got to her feet, purposefully putting her chair between them.
“I was just heading out actually. It’s later than I thought, so… ”
“Hey, no worries. I just wanted to say hi. We didn’t get to finish our conversation last time.”
To her recollection, there hadn’t been much of a conversation. “It’s fine. I didn’t have much to say.”
“Maybe we could find something to talk about over dinner. You like Italian?”
“Um… no. I mean, no to the dinner. I’m seeing someone.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Since when?”
“What do you mean ‘since when’? What does that matter?”
“I mean… it doesn’t. It’s just… I guess I got the wrong impression. I thought we were getting pretty deep into a flirt session back in the park. You know, before The Hulk thought he needed to smash.”
“I was not flirting.”
“Felt like it to me.”
She shook her head. “If I gave you the wrong impression, I’m sorry. The point is, I’m seeing someone, so I’m going to pass on dinner. Thanks for the invite, though. It’s really… flattering.”
“I… okay. Sure. Well, maybe I could give you my number. Text me if you change your mind.”
“Look—”
“Hey, Em. Everything okay?”
Fake relationship or not, Emmy could have kissed Will at that moment.
As soon as he walked up, slipped his arm around her shoulders, her world felt steady again.
It wasn’t until that moment that she realized she’d been more than just uncomfortable when she was alone with Lost Guy; she’d been afraid.
Lost Guy frowned up at Will, who had a good four inches on him. “This keeps happening. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were some kind of magnet for big, beefy dudes.”
“It does seem that way,” Emmy said, allowing herself to smile and lean into Will. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m seeing somebody.” She laid her hand over Will’s chest to emphasize her point, and damn, that man had one fine chest.
“Oh, this is the guy.” He sized Will up, looked disappointed by his own conclusions. “You’re together.”
“Yep.”
He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay. Well.”
Emmy allowed herself a sigh of relief when he shuffled off. Will’s arm stayed around her as the door swung shut behind him. Then he touched the side of her face until she looked up at him.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah. For sure.”
She was trembling, though. He clearly felt it because he slowly turned her until she was pressed more fully against him. Both his arms were around her now, holding tight. Emmy couldn’t stop herself from pressing against his strong, solid form as she fought to stop the tremors rippling through her.
“Shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay. Your body went into fight, flight, or freeze mode and you’ve got some extra stress hormones running around inside you. It’ll pass.”
She let the comforting warmth of his voice wrap around her and soothe her ragged nerves.
“I don’t know why I reacted like that,” she told his chest. “I don’t even know where he came from.
He was just… there, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
It was so stupid, but I was starting to get really itchy about the whole thing, like if he didn’t leave me alone…
” Her voice trailed off as another shudder ran through her.
Apparently she’d been more affected by the situation than she’d realized.
Will’s only response was to run his fingers over her hair. It felt so good to be held like that.
Too good.
Emmy made herself step away. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You showed up to pretend to be my boyfriend just in time.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
Will had to fight the quick punch of lust that her simple, unguarded smile incited.
All he’d done was walk up and stand by her, but she made him feel like a hero.
She looked so sweet with her hair mussed—presumably from running her fingers through it as she pored over novels—and he had the impression that sweet was rare to see from her.
He had to remind himself that they were only in a pretend relationship, and they were in no position to turn the fake into the real.
But he wasn’t going to forget the way she’d felt in his arms anytime soon.
“You’re welcome,” he said, forcing himself to act casual. “Find anything?”
“Bupkis. But there are more books. Way more. Give me a minute to make notes and then we can get out of here.”
Will helped her put books away since she felt bad leaving so many of them on the return shelf at once. Then they went out to his car. Once she was buckled in, she reached out and touched his arm.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. “For real. I don’t know how you appeared right on time, but I’m glad you had my back.”
“No problem. I got a little worried when you didn’t check in.
” He turned to look behind him as he backed out of the space.
Then he shifted into drive and paused to raise his eyebrows at her.
“And get this—I left Bright with my friend Jared at the bar. I think it was supposed to be a scene from the book, something between me and Bright. But I messed it up when I invited Jared along. They didn’t even notice me leaving. Too busy flirting with each other.”
“You’re kidding. Bright was flirting with another guy while you were sitting right there?”
“Yeah. And the funny thing is, they kind of clicked. They had this whole banter thing going, and she smiled at him in this slow, sexy way. He nearly swallowed his tongue.”
Emmy blinked at him. “That is so weird.”
“Yeah. I don’t know what it means or if it’s going to mess with… I don’t know… the fabric of the universe.” He ran a hand through his hair and tried not to think about taking a drink of something stronger than beer when they got home. “You want to go back to the library tomorrow?”
“Yep. I’ve gotta try something.” She studied him for a moment. “You okay?”
He looked over at her, saw the earnest and concerned expression on her face. It warmed something inside him. Every minute with this woman made it harder and harder to remember why he shouldn’t—couldn’t—fall for her.
“As okay as I can be,” he told her. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Can’t help it. We’re in a worrying situation. Oh! Speaking of… I googled myself today. And my sister. And the sex psychic. Nothing.”
“Man. That sucks.”
“Yeah, I don’t exist. It’s weird.” Emmy wrinkled her nose in consternation. “But I was thinking maybe I should find my way to Minneapolis. I know the internet didn’t turn up anything, but maybe the sex psychic is there anyway. Maybe I have to physically go to her, like a quest or something.”
“Minneapolis, huh? I guess I can check flights when we get back.”
“Well… no. I don’t have ID, so no airplane for me. We’d have to take the bus.”
“We?”
A hint of a blush crept into Emmy’s cheeks. “Or I. Me. If you don’t want to go. I’m not saying I want to leave tomorrow, but maybe we could discuss it once your notice is up?”