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 wearhelmets? 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 theyweren’tscripted. 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, butthat 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?”
