Page 35 of Haunted Hearts
“What’s Ethan Wilde want to know?”
Will comes thundering up the foyer steps, and I hear the front door swing closed behind him. As he strides into the main room, removing his sunglasses and hanging them from the unbuttoned collar of his flannel shirt, he gazes around the room, squinting up at the windows.
“Oh,greattiming,” Nancy chirps, like she’s just delighted beyond belief to see him. And honestly, if he hadn’t completely ignored me last night after fucking me and talking to me like it meant something, I might be happy to see him, too.
But hedidignore me. And I amnothappy to see him. So when his gaze moves to mine and lingers there, I keep my face neutral. Like nothing between us ever happened. I mean, that’s what he wants—right?
“Yeah, gotta check some lighting stuff,” Will says, breaking eye contact with me and flashing a smile at Nancy. “Can I help with something?”
As Nancy explains to Will what Ethan Wilde wants to know—something about hardware and what fixtures Will plans to use—I try hard not to look at him, to play it cool. For all he knows, I haven’t even noticed he didn’t text me back. But once or twice I feel his gaze flick over to me, and it takes every single ounce of my strength not to look up at him.
When Nancy finally leaves for Brewed Awakening, Will swaggers over to me and hoists himself onto my desk. He raps his knuckles on the desk in front of me.
“Hey.”
“Get off my desk,” I say.
“Make me.”
I look up at him. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Will, I’m working. I’ve got actual shit to do.”
“Me, too.”
“Okay, so get to it. Don’t you have to check—” I gesture vaguely. “—lighting stuff?”
“I will. I just want to talk. About last night.”
“Oh,nowyou want to talk?” I lay down my pencil with more force than I mean to, fully aware that I’ve just blown my cover. He nowdefinitelyknows I’m pissed about the text—or lack thereof.
Will winces. He grins sheepishly. “Sorry, I was tired. You can’t fault me for that.”
“I don’t fault you for anything.”
I go back to scanning barcodes. I’ve got a lot of books to shelve, so if Will’s got a point to make, I hope he gets to it fast. I’m also not sure how long I can keep up the aloof act with that spicy pine scent of his drifting toward me from across the desk. He smells so damn good.
“Huh.” Will stares at me for another moment, then looks to the ceiling, like he’s pondering something. “Well, tomorrow will be interesting. With you not talking to me, seems like that’ll be a pretty shit booth we’re running. Damn shame for the library.”
Well, shit.
He’s right. The fall festival is tomorrow afternoon. We’ve got to man that stupid fundraiser booth—which I’m not happyabout, anyway. But I couldn’t say no to helping the library withfundraising.
I draw in a deep breath through my nose, but I don’t turn to look at him. It’s what he wants, and I won’t let him get to me.
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” I say, my tone crisp.
“Right.” Will’s quiet a moment before he hops off the desk. I can tell he wants to say something else, but, like me, is holding back. “Well, I guess I’ll get back to work.”
“You do that.”
I steal a glance up at him, and he’s looking at me like I just slammed a door in his face for no reason. I feel a little guilty. After all, I went into last night with eyes wide open. I knew perfectly well we were at odds, and that Will’s goals are in direct conflict with mine. I’m also aware that just because someone fucks you, it doesn’t mean they want anything further with you. So I really don’t have a reason to be pissed at him.
As Will heads back to the foyer, still squinting up at the windows and tapping furiously into his phone, I realize what my problem is. I don’t even think I’m pissed at Will at all. I think I’m pissed at myself for thinking anything could ever change.
twenty
