But there was no more than that and no expectation, no urgency. Only moments that we lived in fully, without thought or care for more, content in exactly what we had.
And when the hour was late, he took off his wool coat and slipped it over my shoulders, and I lay on his chest, my head tucked in the curve of his neck, and fell asleep.
21
Old Lies
Greg
I woke, creeping from dreams so seamlessly that, for a moment, I believed Annie in my arms was a fantasy created by my sleeping mind.
But she wasn’t. She was warm and small, curled into my chest. I could feel the rise and fall of her ribs as she breathed the long, slow rhythm of sleep. And for a long while, I just lay there, committing every detail to memory.
She stirred, nestling into me, nuzzling her face in my chest, her arms folded between us.
I kissed her hair and tightened my arms.
She stilled, and I thought she’d gone back to sleep, which was perfectly fine with me. I could hold her like that forever.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked, her voice raspy.
“I hope not.”
She chuckled and pressed a kiss to the bare skin under the hollow of my throat. “You know, crossing this off my list was the best unexpected surprise of my life.”
“Crossing what off?”
“Waking up with a man, for starters.”
“For starters?”
Annie leaned back to gaze upon my face, and I gazed upon hers with wonder and a sense of belonging.
“First breakup.”
I scoffed.
“First kiss.”
“I wasn’t your first.” The statement wasn’t in any way light or without regret.
“As far as I’m concerned, it was. Will never kissed me like that. Not once.”
“Tell me how horrible it was. I need more reasons to hate him.”
She laughed softly, her cheeks high and rosy. “It was like kissing the back of my hand. I felt nothing other than anxiety that I was doing it wrong, probably because I felt nothing. I knew I should have felt something. But,” she shrugged, “nada.”
“And kissing me?”
“A religious experience.”
I tightened my arms and leaned into her, pinning her against the back of the couch with a kiss that left her legs tangled in mine and her fingers in my hair.
She sighed when I released her, her heavy-lidded eyes meeting mine with a smile. “Will was all pyrotechnics and no substance. You, Greg Brandon, are both and a hundred other brilliant things.”
“Will is the king of flashy paint jobs. You aren’t the first girl he’s dazzled.”
“No, I’m not, and I doubt I’ll be the last.”
I held her for a moment, staring up at the rafters and air ducts of the exposed ceiling. “Is it really over?” I asked, plagued by uncertainty.
“Of course it’s over,” she said. “All I want is you.” The sincerity in her voice quieted my fears without another word.
The ache in my chest was back, but where it used to be broken with longing, it was now tight with joy.
“Oh! Can we take a picture?”
I smiled. “Absolutely.”
She sat, reaching for her little bag that had hung from her wrist all night, and a few minutes later, we had taken five pictures of the two of us, one of us kissing, her hands on my face and my arm extended as far as I could reach. I only hoped I caught it.
We set them on the table and waited for them to develop.
“I have a confession to make,” I said, reaching for my wallet on the table.
“Oh?”
“Mhmm.” I unfolded it, opening the long pocket and pulling out the little photo I’d taken of her on the steps of The Met. There was so much joy in that picture, in her tipped chin and high cheeks, her closed eyes and the flash of her smile, wide and open as she laughed.
She took it from my fingers, her face soft and awed. “You kept it?”
“It’s been with me ever since I took it.” You’ve been in my heart ever since I met you.
Her eyes told me she’d heard the silent admission, and when she reached for me, when she kissed me, she answered me with yes after yes until we were stretched out on the couch again, Annie across my chest.
When she broke the kiss, it was to nestle under my chin. She sighed. I sighed. We lay in the quiet.
My phone rang from the table next to the couch, and I remembered our predicament, reaching for it. Cam’s name was on the screen.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Oh my God, Greg. I am so sorry.”
I moved to sit, and Annie moved too, situating herself next to me, yawning.
“It’s all right. But what the hell happened?”
She sighed, and I heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. “I didn’t realize my ringer was turned all the way down. I can’t believe Beau locked you in. Rose not answering, I can understand—she sleeps like she’s actually dead.”
I humphed a laugh. “Beau I can believe, which is exactly why I will never be nominating him for a promotion. Are you heading this way?”
“As fast as I can. And don’t think you’re going to get out of there without telling me what happened with Annie.”
I glanced at her, smirking. “Then I’ll start working on my story.”
We said goodbye and hung up. Annie was checking her phone with her face drawn.
“Everything okay?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
“Will messaged me—he’s trying to apologize. He wants to see me.”
A warning shot fired down my spine.
She sighed heavily. “I think I’ve got to meet him. Hear him out and let him say his piece, and then I’ll tell him again it’s through.”
“You can’t text him?”
Annie made a face. “Last night, we were all shouting at each other and throwing around demands. I think I owe it to him to tell him face-to-face that it’s over, don’t you?”
“I don’t think you owe him a goddamn thing.”
Annie nodded, her long fingers moving to my vest to smooth it. “That’s fair, but…would you think worse of me if I said I wanted to? I’d like to break it off clean. I’d like to treat him like I’d want to be treated.”
It was my turn to sigh, and I angled toward her to press a kiss to her temple. “No, I wouldn’t think worse of you at all.”
She leaned into me. “I just have to figure out where to meet him.”
“Here,” I said without hesitation.
“I thought he was permabanned.”
“I’ll make this one-time exception. As much as I want to be here when it happens, I don’t think I can be in the same building with him without doing something I shouldn’t. And if I’m not going to be present, at least there will be people here I trust.”
“What do you think he’s going to do? Throw me over his shoulder and carry me back to his cave?” she asked on a laugh.
I didn’t even crack a smile. “Just humor me, Annie.”
“All right,” she conceded with trust behind her eyes, behind the words.
“Message him. Meet up as soon as you can. Because the second it’s through, I want to see you. I want every minute, every second I can get.” My voice trailed off to a whisper.
“Then you’ll have it.”
And I cradled her small face in my hands and kissed her.
A half an hour later, Cam had liberated us, and our tale had been recounted in broad strokes that seemed to satisfy her, if her dreamy smile was any indicator. We ran the plan to have Will come to the store by Cam, and Annie set up a time. And once that was all done, it was time to go.
She donned her yellow peacoat and pink hat and mittens, and we hopped on my board at her insistence. I didn’t think either of us wanted to say goodbye, and even though it was cold, a cab ride just seemed too fast. So we rode through Central Park on my skateboard in historical costumes, my tails flapping and cravat keeping my ne
ck warm, the train of her gorgeous ballgown bustled and her gloved hands around my waist.
Everything had changed in one night with a few words and a kiss.
When we reached her building, I kissed her on the sidewalk, kissed her like my life depended on it, kissed her like I’d never see her again, like I needed to brand my name on her heart so she wouldn’t forget me. And as we kissed, the snow began to fall.
The wonderment on her face when she saw her first snow was perhaps the loveliest thing I’d ever seen in my life.
We took a picture with her little camera, kissing goodbye once more before she finally went inside. I stood on the sidewalk with my hands in my coat pockets as I watched her walk into the building, waving back when she looked over her shoulder before passing through the doors.
Only then did I ride away.
By the time I made it home, I was exhausted and freezing and happy beyond measure. The house was asleep, and the shower was long and hot. And once I lay down in bed, there was no keeping me awake.
I woke a few hours later, feeling groggy and hungry for more sleep, but the second Annie touched my thoughts, I was fully alert. I reached for my phone, finding a text from her that was only a few minutes old.
Heading to Wasted Words. Text me when you’re up.
I smiled, but the expression faded as I thought about her meeting Will. Everything had happened so fast, and part of me still wondered if she might change her mind. Will talked a good game, and Annie took everything at face value.
It was a quality I loved about her just as much as I found it dangerous.
I texted her back to wish her luck before I sighed and climbed out of bed.
Sarah was sitting in the quiet living room, surrounded by textbooks. A spiral notebook lay on her thighs, and she looked up from jotting in it. “Hey. You slept late.”
“Long night.” I sat in the armchair next to the couch. “Where is everybody?”
“Tim’s sawing logs, and Dad ran to the store. Well, maybe not ran, but you know.”
I smiled, imagining Dad running to do anything.
“So was it a good long night or a bad one?”
“Started off bad, ended good. Very good.”
Her brows rose. “Oh?”
“Me and Annie.”
A smile broke out on her face. “Oh my God, are you serious?”
I nodded, feeling like a million bucks. “It’s a long story, but yeah. She’s dumping Will now.”
Sarah’s face paled. “Is she?”
“Yeah, at the bookstore. He wanted to apologize for being a dick and getting kicked out of the bar last night, and she thought she should break up with him in person.”
The color kept draining from her face.
I frowned. “You okay?”
She cleared her throat and looked at her notebook like she might find a suitable response there. “Yeah. For sure.”
“That was real convincing.”
She tried to smile. “Just feels familiar, that’s all. Will doesn’t always take no for an answer.”
My heart jolted. “What do you mean?”
“Just that…he’s used to getting his way. And when he wants something, he’s not one to let it go.”
“Do you think he’s going to push her? Fight for her?”
“He won’t fight for anything but himself and what he thinks is owed to him.”
I ran a hand over my mouth, worried and filled with dread. But, the more I thought about it, the surer I was of one thing. “Annie won’t go back to him.”
She didn’t say anything; her bottom lip was busy, pinned between her teeth.
“I mean, what’s the worst he could do? They’re in public—our friends are there.”
She took a breath that skipped in her chest, the sound dangerously close to a sob, a sound that sent a cold shot of fear through me.
“Sarah, what are you not telling me?”
Her throat worked, fingers pressed to her lips. She shook her head. “It’s…I wanted to tell you before. I should have told you before, but I didn’t know if it would change anything.”
“Told me what?” I asked, the words as quiet as the eye of a storm.
Sarah moved her notebook and leaned over. “It’s just that I’ve never told anyone. And when you said Annie was with him…” She shook her head. “If we had been alone, I probably would have said it, but then…then it felt too late.”
“Said what?”
“I never told you what really happened that night, the night of the party.”
A tingling numbness climbed down my arms to my fingers, up my neck to my face as she spoke.
“You know that before that night, I’d been planning to break up with him, but the time was never right. I never knew what to say. I was afraid I’d lose so much more than him. I had a thousand excuses, and none of them mattered in the end.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “We went to that party and ended up in a huge fight. And I was so mad, so over it, I just blurted out that I was through. I was through fighting, through being controlled by him, fed up beyond the point of caring about the repercussions.
“We were in the middle of arguing about it when he finally realized I was serious, and he just…changed. I thought at the time that he was calm, resigned, accepting even. He told me we could be friends and that we should enjoy the party. And I was so relieved that I took the drink he’d offered and the one after without a second thought.”
She took a long breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was unsteady, her eyes on her trembling fingers as they twisted each other, seeking comfort.
“I only remember bits and pieces. Dancing in the living room. Laughing on the balcony. Feeling slow and tired and clumsy. Will taking me to a dark bedroom. Wondering if he’d drugged me as he laid me down in the bed. And I thought…I thought he was going to…” She shook her head. “But he didn’t. He left me there, and I remember how relieved I was. Until someone else came in.”
A heavy tear dropped from her lashes and to the floor. “I don’t know who he was—a boy from another school, I think. He was everywhere, and there was nothing I could do; I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight, couldn’t scream. And then he left me there in that room, just like Will had, but he’d taken everything from me before he’d gone.”
The words broke, her hand moving to press her lips, as if she could keep the sobs held down, and within a breath, I was at her side, pushing the textbooks away and pulling her into me, thinking only thoughts of agony and murder.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tears pricked my eyes, flooded my vision, my fingers in her hair and her face against my chest.
“Because there was nothing I could do. I had no proof, couldn’t remember what he even looked like. And I know I shouldn’t have been ashamed, but I was. I am. Pictures of…of me started floating around school in group texts. And Will didn’t do a goddamn thing about it but use it as ammunition to ostracize me from everyone I knew. And I was afraid that if I said something, if I accused him, no one would believe me. It was easier to be labeled a whore than branded a liar.”
“And all this time…”
She pulled away, though my shirt was still fisted in her hands. “Those rumors I told you he spread were true. It happened, just not the way everyone said. I asked him once, begged him to tell me why he’d left me there, and he said that I shouldn’t have fucked with him. And when I asked him if he’d meant for me to get raped, he looked at me with dead eyes and said he stopped caring the second he walked out the door.”
My vision dimmed, my pulse driving my heart to the point of pain.
“Ever since he came back into your life, it’s been weighing on me. I didn’t know if it would help or hurt or make any difference at all. And I tried to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t speak the words. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I pulled her back into me, pressing her to my body, wishing I could undo what had been done to her. “Don’t apologize. Don’t you say you’re sorry, not for this,?
?? I breathed. “But Annie’s with him right now. I have to go—I need to get her.”
She nodded, still crying.
I cupped my sister’s cheek and looked into her eyes. “Everything’s going to be fine,” I said, hoping it was true. “Don’t add this guilt to your heart.”
She nodded, but I knew the agreement was empty. Her heart would carry that guilt forever.
But I had to go, wouldn’t wait. I only hoped that son of a bitch was still there when I got to Annie.
Because I had so much to say.
22
Heartbeats
Annie
“So, let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Will said coolly from the other side of the booth. “You stayed here. Last night. With Greg. In the dress I gave you. And now you’re breaking up with me for him?”
My fingers were restless in my lap. “Will, I’m sorry.”
I didn’t even know what I was apologizing for. His hurt feelings? Mine?
“Listen,” he said, his face softening with his voice, “last night I said things I didn’t mean. I care about you, Annie, and I want to be with you. What do I have to do to prove that to you?”
“Nothing,” I said simply. “It just happened this way. It wasn’t your fault.”
It was another lie, and I couldn’t understand why I kept making excuses for him. But more than anything, I wanted this business done and over with. If placating him got me there, so be it.
“But we’re great together, Annie. I’m sorry for what I said last night. I just can’t keep suffering interventions from Brandon.” He spat the name like a curse.
Anger blew through me in a gust. “Stop it, Will. I’m sorry I even brought him into this. It’s about you and me. And last night wasn’t the first time you failed to take my feelings into account.”
He laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Your feelings? Not once did you listen when I told you he was trying to get between us. Not once did you seem to care what I wanted, what I’d asked for. But I’m the one who’s insensitive? That’s rich, Annie. Real rich.”