Page 70 of Under Locke & Key
Another kiss, this one on the pad of my index finger, as if he’s ticking each one off of my fingers like a list.
“Am I concerned that I’m in over my head with this escape room project and that the scope of it is more than I was ready or qualified for? Yep.”
Lips on my middle finger and every touch is like a shock down my arm. But his eyes are still soft, his brow slightly furrowed as he lets me speak my piece.
“Am I terrified that this thing between us is happening and it’s in this weird space between real and unreal where everything is hazy and perfect, and one wrong move could screw it all up?” My breath shudders out of my lungs. “I’ve never been more scared in my life.”
Bryce kisses down my ring finger then threads his fingers between mine, pulling it closer so he can place another on the back of my hand.
“I get it. I’m afraid that leaving Philly and my old job, sinking all my savings and the money from selling the house into this will leave me broke and aimless. This business is everything now, my chance at independence on my own terms. I never realized it at the time but when this notion came to me I was desperately trying to escape my heartbreak and bitterness. A little on the nose, but true.”
“And now?” I gather the courage to ask.
“Now I’m building something new with someone I never saw coming. I’m not great at” —he pulls air in through his lungs like he’s been deprived of it—“expressing my feelings and putting them into words. It’s far easier for me to shut down and logic my way out of experiencing them at all, or accidentally blurt things out in a far-too-blunt way and upset people. But there’s no careful consideration and pragmatism when it comes to this, to you.”
“I feel similarly. Part of me wants to analyze this to death and the other just wants to enjoy it as much and as long as I can. Being with you, doing this with you, I’ve never been happier and I’m scared to jeopardize it. So, for now, can we just take it a day at a time? The unknown is too scary but this—a step at a time—I can handle that.” I’m a coward. If ever there was a time for me to have asked him to define this, now would have been it.
But I’d rather live in delusion for a little longer—prolong the time before the potential hurt.
“I can do that.” His words are whispered against my neck, followed by his lips.
“What else can you do?” I ask, voice husky as heat rises in my stomach to replace all my fear. Burning it away like underbrush in a forest fire of desire.
“How much time do we have?” Bryce asks, his large hand skimming the curve of my waist to grip the outside of my thigh.
“Not enough.”
He kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, and then his tongue darts out over my nipple, leaving me arching against him in anticipation.
“Guess I’ll have to make this quick then.”
As he makes his way down my body, hands and mouth worshiping every inch of skin that he encounters, my doubts fade. When he slots his mouth over my core, I cease all thought. Somewhere between my orgasm against his mouth, those hands all over me, and the stretch of him filling me, I finally relax.
We barely have a few weeks left and I’m determined to make the best of them. If that means drowning my thoughts under Bryce’s body, that’s fine with me.
* * *
I haveto outsource some of the work. As much as it pains me to admit, Bryce was right. There are only so many hours in a day and I can’t enjoy them fully—enjoyhimfully if I keep working days at the theater and nights at home.
Sebastian is gracious enough to help out, and I offer him a percentage of my share in payment, in the hope that the return will be enough of an incentive for him since my pockets are pretty flat.
Between his help and the razor focus that comes with a deadline, we have a working prototype to test out two weeks before our soft open and I invite him and Farren, and Ángel up again to help us test some of the rooms. And, as something that I could see becoming a regular occurrence should this develop into something deep and lasting, Bryce calls his friends to do the same, effectively blending the groups. Although there’s far less division now compared to the last time we hung out together.
It seems whatever Logan and Ángel got up to at Pride caused a budding friendship because the two are off to the side chatting while I triple check the locks in the room.
“So, this is what you’ve been working on?” Farren asks as she leans over Sebastian’s shoulder to look down at the app on his phone. We’ve tested it a few times on our own but today is the first run through of the room in its entirety and I’m panicking.
As if he can sense my distress, Bryce comes up beside me and his hand presses against my lower back in a show of support. Something about the heat and weight of it is soothing and it gives me the push I need to keep going.
“So far it’s been working out well, but today is the dress-rehearsal, so to speak. Bryce will be running the software and I’ll be keeping an eye on things from above for the cameras to make sure our positioning on those makes sense. I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys don’t happen to escape but I hope you do. As we’ll tell our customers, you have sixty minutes and unlimited clues should you choose to use them.” My voice wavers slightly, belying my nerves but I clear my throat and continue. “The goal of today’s test is to find any glaring holes in the software, the flow of the room, and the efficacy of the clues scattered around the space.”
Gabrielle gives me a kind smile, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners into her skin and I can’t deny that being around his friends, being encouraged and accepted by them, at least tentatively, feels amazing.
“As with the other escape room we did together, there are a couple different locks to look out for. We have letter locks, regular number or combination locks, and even a directional lock.” Bryce lifts each type of lock as he mentions them and shows the group how to click them to finish unlocking. He looks so excited. It’s adorable and I’m so glad I’m here to see this. I’m so happy I took a chance on this . . . and him. Even if it ends up only being a blip in the grand scheme of life.
“It’s going to be great! Now, get out of here so we can kick this room’s ass!” Logan is very enthused, punching his fist up into the air and Bryce scoffs behind me, the movement vibrating where our bodies are pressed together.
“He’s right. Itisgoing to be great,” Bryce whispers, just for me, and I’m astonished he’s not as nervous and torn up about it as I am.
