Chapter Twenty-Five

“What’d I miss? Something good? What happened to him?”

Brynn breezed through Kingston’s front door, nodding back toward Wes who’d just exited.

Annie clutched her torso. She thought she was going to be sick.

Jamie pulled Brynn into a kiss, and Annie hugged herself tighter while Jamie filled his fiancé in on what he knew.

“I think—” she said. “I think I just lost him.”

Brynn pursed her lips. “Had you—found him?”

“I messed up,” Annie said. “It was only supposed to be fun. And then it was more. I jumped to conclusions because of who he was, but it turns out he’s not that guy anymore. People can change if they want to, B. Yet I’m still the same scared person I’ve always been.”

Brynn shook her head. “Oh, honey. You just came in here ready to fight for something—even if you were a little off base.” She gave her a soft smile. “If that’s not something new, then tell me I’m wrong.”

Annie tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “I didn’t just lose Wes,” she said. “I also lost us the line-up of authors who were supposed to do signings at the store. I never—I never asked him. I’m so sorry, B. I put my feelings for him before the store, and shit. I am in way over my head here.”

Brynn’s eyes widened.

“Because you’re in love with him!” she shouted. Then she jumped up and down and squealed. “This is the best news ever!”

Jamie put a hand on Brynn’s arm and shook his head slowly.

She pouted. “I missed a lot, huh?” she asked. “I think you better spill the rest, Denning.”

Annie sniffled. “Did you miss the part where the store is still in trouble?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to talk to me about fiscal responsibility or something?”

Brynn waved her off. “Let’s take care of you, first,” she said. “Then we’ll take care of the store.”

So Jamie went behind the bar and poured them each a pint while Annie and Brynn perched on two stools so Annie could tell her—and a pretending-not-to-listen Jamie—about last night and this morning. About her crazy parents and Wes’s. She didn’t go into any intimate details about Wes’s situation with his father, deciding she’d already invaded his privacy enough. But Brynn got the gist of the emotional caliber of the evening. And everything that came after.

“You are in love with him,” Brynn said, squeezing Annie’s hand.

She nodded. “But I believed the book instead of him—and messed up.”

Brynn laughed.

Annie scowled.

“Oh, come on,” Brynn said, shoulders still shaking. “We all get wrapped up in our own safety nets sometimes. For Jamie and me it was convincing ourselves it was better to stay friends than to risk losing each other completely. But we were idiots.”

Annie forced a laugh. “I told you that,” she said. “I called Jamie that a lot, actually.”

Brynn raised her brows. “See? And I get how important books are to you—to a lot of readers. But you were so caught up in seeing him as the guy in the book—instead of just, well, a guy.”

Brynn was right. There was a lot of Wes in Down This Road, but there was much of him that wasn’t. The reader never knew how Ethan’s mother had passed away. They never knew the passionate yet volatile emotions that made up his parents’ relationship. They didn’t know of Ethan’s guilt over not being around—over not being able to stop his mom from getting in that car.

Because that wasn’t Ethan’s story. It was Wes’s, and that wasn’t for the world to read. But Annie knew. He’d let her in on all the secrets he didn’t share with anyone else.

Because he loved her.

Her epiphany was interrupted by her brother’s return. Jeremy stepped back through the door, shaking out his hand. Annie could see his knuckles were bleeding.

“Jeremy, no. Please tell me you did not do anything else stupid.”

She grabbed his hand to inspect it. The wounds were superficial, but if they were a result of him going after Wes…

He shook his head.

“I maybe got into it with the wall out back,” he said, forcing a smile. “It gave me shit for blaming my buddy when my sister had also been lying to me for the past month.”

Annie let her head fall against her brother’s chest.

“Yeah. Well, wait until you hear about Mom and Dad.”

He held up his phone. “Just talked to her. We’re so messed up. Aren’t we?”

She nodded. “I can’t speak for Mom and Dad and their lies, but I can defend me and Wes.” Annie sighed. “I love you, Jer. I really, really do. But I’m the big sister, here. And you forced us to lie by forbidding Wes to do anything other than escort me to and from the wedding.”

“But I—” he said, stepping away.

She shook her head. “I’m twenty-eight. And I love that you want to protect me. I really do. But you know what? I’ve been doing such a good job of it on my own that I didn’t even know I could fall for someone until Wes came along.”

She laughed out loud as recognition bloomed, the pages of Wes’s manuscript replaying again in her head. Maybe Wes contemplated self-sabotage on the page, but Annie had just done it for real. She was the one infusing truth into fiction—or fiction into truth.

“Oh my God,” she said aloud, covering her mouth with her palm.

“What?” he asked.

“What?” Brynn echoed.

“What?” Jamie added. “Actually, I don’t really care that much. I just thought it would be funny if I—”

Brynn backhanded him on the chest, and Jamie shut up.

“I’m Jack,” Annie said.

“Who’s Jack?” Brynn and Jeremy asked in unison.

They all turned to Jamie, but he held up his hands.

“The hero in Wes’s book. The one Wes’s agent said had to work the knockout punch into his grand gesture or something.”

Annie was grinning wide now, and Brynn and Jeremy were looking at her like she’d grown a third eye.

Jamie grumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “Grand gestures are overrated.”

“Hey!” Brynn said, backhanding him again. “I grand gestured you!”

He laughed. “Yeah, well, I tried to grand gesture you the night of our ten-year reunion, but you thought you were meant for someone else.”

She groaned and turned back to Annie.

“You want to perform a grand gesture?” she said.

Annie nodded. “And since you have experience, B, tell me what the hell I should do, and I’ll do it. No more playing it safe. I’ll do whatever it takes for him to forgive me.”

…

Jeremy crossed his arms and uncrossed them. Then he paced the runner that separated the kitchen from the living room. Wes pulled the bag of frozen peas from the left side of his face so he could see his friend more clearly.

Were they still friends? Wes had been home from the ER long enough to pack up the few things he’d brought with him from New York, settle himself on the couch, and try to combat the swelling. Jeremy had walked in at least a minute ago and still hadn’t said anything.

He opened his mouth to start, but Jeremy cut him off.

“I’ve never done that, you know. Hit anyone.”

Wes noticed the broken skin on Jeremy’s knuckles.

“So today you went balls out?” He motioned to his own knuckles insinuating Jeremy’s. “Pretty sure my face didn’t do that.”

Jeremy dropped into the chair perpendicular to the couch where Wes sat. He forced a smile.

“A brick wall looked at me funny.” His face grew serious. “She’s my sister, man. I’ve watched her get the shit end of the relationship deal too many times. I couldn’t protect her from guys I didn’t know. But I trusted you.”

“I know.”

Wes rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. Then he looked up, expecting more disappointment, but Jeremy only looked apologetic.

“Annie told me she was equally to blame for keeping this from me. And I get how maybe I didn’t make things easy for you two.”

Wes blew out a breath. Maybe she didn’t fight for him, but at least she was trying to salvage his friendship with her brother.

“I’m still an asshole for lying to you, but your sister’s an adult who makes her own decisions.”

Jeremy nodded. “I’m still a dick for hitting you. And I know she’s an adult,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop feeling protective of her.” He scratched the back of his head. “What did the doctor say?”

“No concussion. Nothing’s broken. Just some pretty bad bruising.”

Jeremy winced. “Yeah, I can see that. You know, you could press charges or something. I probably deserve it.”

Wes laughed. “Ow. Fuck, that hurts. And no, asshole, I’m not pressing charges. I had it coming. But I will amp the shit out of the situation if it goes in the book.”

Jeremy let out a nervous laugh, and Wes tilted his head back, placing the bag of peas where they rested before.

“Are you really in love with my sister?” Jeremy asked.

Wes groaned. “Yeah,” he said softly. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for this love thing.”

Jeremy laughed again, this time the sound bitter and knowing.

“I’m the first one to agree with you there,” he said. “But I feel inclined to counsel you otherwise, only because it’s my sister who’s involved.”

Wes shook his head slowly, so as not to upset the peas.

“She didn’t trust me, Jer. She didn’t trust me, and she didn’t fight for us. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

What a fucking sight he must be, broken inside and out.

“So you’re signing yourself up for a bachelor auction?”

He sighed. “It’s for a good cause, right?”

“You mean you didn’t say that just to throw it in my sister’s face?”

He leaned forward on his knees again, ready to head to the freezer for a fresh bag since the one in his hand was starting to thaw.

“Maybe in the moment. Yeah. But we’re getting close to the holidays, and you said it was for a good cause. The prize is a date—so I’ll buy the winner a drink after the auction, and we’ll call it a day. I’m not looking to throw anything in anyone’s face anymore if you’re not.”

The right side of his mouth quirked into a grin. He was careful not to aggravate his wound this time.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Fuck you,” he said, but he was smiling now, too. “You would get us the biggest donation,” he said. “Especially with that wounded look.”

“You’re pushing it,” Wes said.

“Yeah. I know. But there’s this girl at the food bank I’m trying to impress. She’s coming to collect the donations and MC the event. When she sees I’ve got you on the roster?” Jeremy whistled.

“Hey,” Wes said. “I thought you don’t believe in love.”

“I don’t. But I sure as hell believe in fun.” Jeremy raised his brows. “And speaking of fun… Did I tell you it’s a costume theme? I mean, it is October.”

Wes barked out a laugh. “Of course it is.”

His face still hurt, but the laughing felt good.

“You really moving out?” Jeremy asked.

He nodded. “It’s probably best.”

“Probably,” Jeremy echoed.

“Can you do me a favor?” Wes asked, pulling a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket. “Can you give this to your sister?”

Jeremy took it and read. “What the hell is this?”

“A list of authors—local and out of town—who’d love to set up signings at Two Stories.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened. “Brynn might have called to check in—make sure I wasn’t suing Kingston’s or anything.” He forced a smile even though it hurt to do so. “I know the store needs some help and I—just, give it to her, okay? She’s done an amazing job over there, and if I can do anything—”

Jeremy nodded. “Thanks, man. I’ll tell her.” He let out a long breath. “You going back to New York?”

He glanced at his phone. No missed calls or texts. No Annie. His dad was here, and they were just starting to repair their relationship. That in and of itself was reason enough to stay. But how could he be in the city where the woman he loved let him go so easily? How could he and Jeremy stay friends when Annie was between them?

At least with the distance they had an excuse not to see each other. Maybe in another five or ten years Wes could come back to Chicago and not worry about his heart dropping through the floor if he bumped into Annie Denning. Men were good like that, not seeing each other for years and picking back up where the friendship was the last time they saw each other. He and Jeremy would be fine.

“I don’t know,” Wes finally said.

Because he didn’t know what was worse. Bumping into Annie while he was trying to get over her—or never seeing her again.