Page 49 of Under Locke & Key

Stephanie. Three syllables that thunder through my chest as I rush home and in every moment since Bryce left me here with far too much on my mind.

I replay that two second image in my mind over and over.

Steph’s lips meeting his chin, the anger on his face as he pulls back, the way all the color left him when he saw me standing there.

I believe him. I know nothing happened. Logically I’m able to acknowledge that. But on a much deeper, gut level, all I can see is Riley blowing up multiple relationships and breaking my heart in one go.

But Bryce isn’t Riley , my mind pipes up.

Bryce has the potential to be even more devastating.

I’ve never let myself get this deep or be this vulnerable with anyone else.

He’s saying all the right things, doing all the right things, and my fucking brain won’t let me accept that it can just be that genuine.

I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Because I’m primed for disappointment. Because if I plan for and accept the bad outcome before it’s happened, it won’t hurt as much when it does.

But isn’t that just a self-fulfilling thing then? You expect it so you act like it’s already happened. You pull away or you hide and then it becomes real because you made it so.

God, I hate my mind right now. Emotionally I’m lost for him.

Totally knocked over and on my ass. Mentally I’m afraid of what will happen in a week, or a month, or a year.

When he’s so ingrained in my life that extricating myself will leave me gutted.

There will be a Bryce-shaped hole if I make the room for him.

And that’s part of the problem. Because there’s no precedent.

He’d be the first, he’s already the first person who’s seen this much of me and stayed.

If there’s even a chance that he’s going to leave me for his gorgeous, tall, blonde bombshell of a wife then I need to know now before I give him any more sway over me.

Lying on my bed as the sun slinks across the room and under the horizon, I stare up at the ceiling and carefully weigh each pro and con.

I want so much to be able to go back to Lakin-Cole and step into the role that I rightfully earned just to spite Andrew and Keith, but I know it won’t make me happy. Not really. I wasn’t doing that for me. I was doing all of that to make my parents proud and to live up to an expectation.

I want to be able to stay in Dulaney and become a part of this town and its community, something I’ve never had but which has been amazing so far.

I don’t know if I want to keep working at the escape room in a host capacity but it has brought me such a sense of purpose and self. I’d hate to lose it completely.

I want Bryce. Every morning and night, and whatever falls in between. A part of me longs to just let go, to fall and let him catch me the way he did all those months ago when I was being reckless and hanging curtains while precariously standing on my console.

Those big hands will keep me safe, they’ll be gentle and tender. They will ruin me with their touch. The warmth of his body against mine will see me through the winter in this apartment that desperately needs some proper ventilation and insulation. If I let him.

And I think I want to let him.

Hopefully by the opening I won’t have to dwell on doubts, I’ll just know what the right thing to do is.

* * *

There’s a little crowd already. ángel has come up from D.C.

to celebrate with me and although I invited my parents, they let me know that they won’t be attending in a short and succinct text message response to the voicemail I left them.

I can’t even summon the energy to pretend it doesn’t hurt.

Not when all my thoughts and emotions have been tangled up in seeing Bryce again.

And in appreciating months of our work finally being realized.

There’s a huge red cloth over where the matinee was and a shining length of ribbon across the double doors.

“This is it,” ángel whispers into my ear and his excitement is enough to pull me out of my dismal mood. “You did it!”

“You helped get me here. Thank you for the push, and the shoulder, and lending me your ear every time I freaked out about it. And Bryce. And everything before it. You’re my best friend and I’m so grateful to have you in my life,” I say, already a little choked up.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now. One of these days you’re going to make me cry and then we won’t be able to be friends anymore. I can’t afford to let you see how ugly a crier I am again. Last time we were drunk enough for it not to matter. It would ruin everything now.” ángel laughs and I join in.

My phone buzzes with a text from Sebastian letting me know that they’ve parked and he and Farren will be over at the theater momentarily.

It’s early in the day, but the end of August still feels like midsummer by two in the afternoon.

So an opening at 9 a.m. might not be as flashy as an opening night at the theater would be, but it’ll be a boon for everyone waiting outside to catch a glimpse of what we’ve been working on—and enjoy the break from the heat outside.

I glance at my watch, less than five minutes to go.

I should probably get closer to the doors, maybe stand near Bryce and his family, but I’m too full of nerves.

I’ll find him after. Once the pomp is done and the initial rush has died down, I will go to congratulate him on a job well done and hopefully by then I will have perfected the words that keep buzzing around in my head.

The murmur of the crowd around me is like a soft hum, a buzzing in the back of my subconscious and I make out none of what anyone around me is saying when Bryce steps out from the doors and ducks under the ribbon.

The din picks up for a moment and then he raises his hands to try and tame the excitement long enough to address us.

Once the volume has come down he speaks. “Thank you all so much for coming out today! As some of you may know I am a Dulaney boy, born and bred, and I’ve been so excited to get to bring something new to the town that raised me and the community that means so much.”

They are mesmerized by that baritone, as am I, and his face is alight with excitement. He’s trimmed his beard slightly. He’s wearing a black button up with short sleeves and khakis, very business casual, but the way it hugs his chest and those thighs is enough to make me want to salivate.

How have I gone two days without seeing him? Touching him?

I wish I was up there with him but this view is pretty stunning regardless.

“From those who used to watch me put on ridiculous magic shows with my best friend Logan”—Bryce points over to Logan off to the side and he waves at the crowd with a goofy grin on his face and Gabrielle by his side—“To the people who have come into my life more recently and have helped coddle and nourish this idea into something tangible.”

Bryce nods toward someone else in the crowd and I’m pleased to note Farren and Sebastian smiling back at him broadly.

“I’ve been incredibly lucky to have so many people believing in me, none more than my wonderful parents who have encouraged me every step of the way, even when those steps took me off-road and away from home.

I’m so glad to be back for good and to have such a strong and amazing foundation that they have laid down for me.

” Bryce gestures to Frank and Theresa and a couple of whoops and claps sound around me.

“But there’s someone who most of you may not know, who’s worked tirelessly behind the scenes and at my side since this project’s inception. She’s a transplant to our town, but don’t hold that against her. Rachel Mackey,” Bryce says and his eyes pierce right through me.

Despite wanting to blend into the crowd and hide a little until I’d built up my courage, he’s got me.

I wonder how long he’s known I’m here. He doesn’t point me out though, knowing that having a ton of eyes on me would be forcing my hand and I appreciate that he’s keeping his word. He’s letting me decide, even in this.

“Rachel joined the project first as a program developer for some of the tech aspects of the rooms but that very quickly grew into a partnership of ideas and enthusiasm. She has hyped me up when I doubted myself and this endeavor. She pushed me when I was being too prideful and foolish to accept and ask for help. She spent countless nights brainstorming, renovating, marketing, and breathing life into this project.”

My throat is closing, eyes blurring with tears so that Bryce becomes little more than a black and tan blur until I blink them away.

My hands tremble and my heart races in my chest, hope and fear and love overwhelming me.

The crowd is quiet but they cease to exist to me as I stare at Bryce and he does the same.

It’s as if he’s imbuing his speech with something else. Something deeper than gratitude.

“It literally would not exist without her. So, I made a little change without consulting her, to reflect that.”

There’s an “ooh” that passes through the people around me and ángel has the audacity to elbow me in the side.

“Did you know about this?” I hiss at him.

“Nope. Lover-boy did this all by himself,” ángel whispers back.

“We’ve been promoting this business under the name ‘Locke Box’, a little play on words using my middle name.

But I feel that is disingenuous when this is so much bigger than just me.

Rachel deserves just as much recognition.

” Bryce tugs on the gold cord hanging down from the matinee and the red fabric billows down to reveal the sign outside the theater—the new home for escape rooms.

UNDER LOCKE & KEY stands out bold for everyone to see.