by Julie Reece
Autumn’s eyes widen. A smile brakes out on my face. “Dance with me?”
Leaning forward she yells, “What?”
“Dance with me!” She points to the stage. The awards ceremony is due to start soon, but I couldn’t care less. “I won’t keep you long.” Her eyebrows pinch with confusion, but I’m already leading her onto the floor. I lower my mouth to her ear, “We won’t go far.” She smells good enough to eat. I feel her shiver under my touch, and hope fills my lungs.
I draw her into my arms. She relaxes into me, cheek pressing my chest. My arms naturally tighten. I lower my jaw against her head, drink her in, while at the same time wishing Alex back to whatever seventh gate of netherworld he came from.
She lifts her face. “I should go.” The room is warm with all the bodies packed inside. Her husky voice in my ear makes it warmer. I’ve never wanted anyone like I do her. And I never will again.
“Hey, can I—” A couple slams into us. Pointy elbow to my ribs, I’m about to tell the intruder off until I see he’s about eighty years old. He gives us a sheepish grin and wave of apology before he’s swallowed by the crowd.
Autumn laughs, and as happy as I am here, the sequence is wrong. I’d meant to talk with Piper first. Then find Autumn so I could explain my actions, claim my woman and kiss her senseless. Nothing about this night is conducive to those goals so far. “Can we talk later?”
“What?”
My breath exits in a rush of frustrated air. “Can we—”
The band stops and all eyes turn to the staging area. My mother, wearing a simple, black gown walks to the microphone. She looks pretty good, for an old girl. I know she wishes Scott were here instead of in Chicago where he’s dealing with a business emergency. The guy calls ten times a day and obviously cares for her. I’ll be cool with their plans, eventually. Once I deal with the concept of my dad’s best friend marrying my mother, and my sort-of ex-girlfriend becoming my step-sister—because that isn’t weird at all.
Dex wolf whistles as my mother introduces Behr Mountain’s first summer intern. Autumn releases my hand. She might as well take the appendage with her for the loss I feel.
She makes her way up the stairs to the stage, her dress a shimmering sunset under the white lights strung across the ceiling. Then, on the very last step, she trips. My stomach clenches. A collective gasp goes out from the crowd as her hands jut out, barely saving her from a total face plant. She rights herself, a difficult task in that dress. A bout of nervous laughter leaks from someone in the audience, and I grit my teeth, wanting to punch someone, but this is Autumn’s fight. Feet cemented to the floor, I hold my breath, wanting to shield her, waiting to see how she’ll handle the snickering still rippling throughout the room.
As she makes her way to center stage, not a hint of fear or embarrassment shows in her expression. She lifts the mic. Feedback punishes our eardrums a second or two before dying away.
She clears her throat. “Good evening and welcome to the first annual Behr Mountain Sporting Goods scholarship presentation.” While people applaud, her casual smile has my chest decompressing with relief.
It might be my healthy ego, but I imagine she scans the audience for me. Then our eyes meet, anchoring us both. A charming blush stains her cheeks, shoulders square and lift with her deep inhalation.
“If we could have the winners of today’s Mighty Moo pageant on stage please?” Four girls step onto the platform. She smiles as the girls line up beside her. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, ladies,” Autumn says. “You’re safe as kittens since I tripped on the stairs. The crowd’s all warmed up”
Everyone laughs. Everyone but me, because I can’t stop watching her. My gaze hangs up on the hollow of her throat, the curve between her waist and hip, other places …
“Earlier today, these young ladies competed in a pageant comprised of over thirty entries.”
A cool hand slips inside mine. “Dance with me later?” Piper asks. Barely able to hear over the clapping as the third runner up takes her prize, I bend toward her. I try for a friendly smile, torn between my desire to see Autumn triumph and needing to clear the air with an old friend.
As another award is presented, I’m slapped on the back by an older man with three chins. “That’s my niece!”
I smile. “Congratulations, pops.”
Piper giggles. Most of the town is made up of blue-collar workers. The locals get pretty excited now that our company has added scholarship money to pageant winners.
I take advantage of the break in applause, leaning towards Piper. “How about we take a walk outside?”
Her head tilts. “Okay.” Kind. Quiet. My old friend rarely questions a thing I, or anyone else, says, making what I have to do that much harder. When she trusted me, her faith was misplaced, and I let her down. Hell, I let everyone down. Tonight, I’ll be honest and do right by her, how ironic that I can only do that by hurting her.
We move through the mass of humanity packed into the community center. Thundering applause surrounds us as Autumn gives out another award. No catastrophes. No tantrums. Not even my mother can complain about her role as presenter. Other than her slip on the stairs, she did a fine, drama-free job.
Success.
Outside, a harvest moon watches us through gauzy clouds. The air is warm, smelling of stale popcorn and cotton candy and gardenias. Across the street, a line of food-truck vendors clean grease from their fryers. We walk over the freshly mown lawn. The breeze is stronger here, carrying the day’s scents away.
“You look good,” she says. “Black tie suits you.” She won’t look at me and presses her lips together, the way she does when she’s nervous.
“You, too. You always did rock a blue dress.” Still does. The fabric falls down her thin form like water, hugging her slight curves, but it’s not skin tight. Understated. Conservative, that’s Piper.
“So, I hear we’re going to a wedding?”
“You know about that?”
“Dad called today. He wanted to tell me in person, but since everyone else already knows, he didn’t want me to hear accidently from anyone but him. Are you okay with it?”
“I think so. It’s a little weird, but I’m getting used to the idea. What about you?”
“I’m happy for him. Them. It’s crazy you guys will be my step-brothers, though.”
On behalf of the Behr men, I say, “Nothing will change. Well, that’s not true, a lot will be different, but not for me or Dex or Quinn. We’ve always thought of you as a sister.”
“Wait. So you … ?” Based on her frown, she’s clearly guessed where this is going. “You’re breaking up with me.”
We were never together. Not really and never for me the way it was for her, but there’s little point saying so now. “I don’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted that.”
“Our families expect us to end up together. Everyone expects it. I’m not sure we gave us—us as in being a couple, us—enough of a chance. It’s my fault. I pressured you.”
“No. That isn’t true. I care about you. I always have, but I know now, it’s as a brother and a friend. I wanted to feel differently, but—”
“But you don’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her head falls back and she watches the sky. “This really is a travesty of justice. A cruel cosmic joke.” She attempts a smile but doesn’t quite pull it off. “I’m your yin, your counterbalance, you know? There will probably be some earthquake or volcanic eruption somewhere to compensate for our not getting together. That’s on you, my friend. We’re perfect for each other.”
A deep laugh erupts from me, and I silently thank her for breaking the tension. “I know, right? Groomed from birth. Go figure.”
“So, Autumn?” She cuts right to the chase, as usual.
“Yes.” I won’t lie. Not anymore. Not to avoid awkward situations or to get out of trouble. I’m done with that. And Piper deserves the truth.
“She’s … different.” That’s about
as lethal a dart as Piper will throw. “And you’re sure that’s what you want? You think different will make you happy?” Her doubt is understandable, but I don’t flinch.
“I’m not looking for rescue, or anyone to make me happy. My life, and whatever I decide to do with it, is up to me, the same as anyone else. But yeah, I want someone beside me while I figure it out, and I want to support her the same way.” An undeniable force exists between Autumn and me and has from the start. Volatile and fierce, a relationship with her won’t be easy. Or simple. Or boring, yet it’s all I want.
“I don’t believe it.” Her face hardens, unlike anything I’ve seen from her before. “You do this, Caden. Chase something until you get bored and then jump to the next thing.”
Is that how she sees me? I feel the blood draining from my face. Maybe I acted like that before. I suppose it’s true, but that’s not who I am anymore.
Piper stands on her toes and hugs me. “Don’t do this, please?” Her arms tighten on my shoulders. “Don’t rush into anything. Give yourself some time. I’ll wait—however long you need I’ll wait for you.”
She’s not letting go. I feel horrible, but leaving her with any hope to avoid my own guilt is the coward’s way out, and the worst thing I could do for her. “It’s not about me needing time, or you waiting. I want you to be happy, Piper. You deserve more than I can give you.” My arms wrap her small waist, and I hold her, letting her say goodbye to all she hoped for between us. For me it’s a nod to our childhood, thanking her for putting up with my shit after Dad died, and for forgiving me of so much.
When she presses her hips against me, I release her, dropping a light kiss on her lips. Before I know what’s happening, her hands fly around my neck, pulling me in. Her mouth presses mine, searching for a response I can never give. Reaching around my neck, I pluck her hands from their hold and place them at her sides.
“No.” I breathe out through my nose. I hate hurting her, but she has to hear me. “I’m sorry. I just don’t feel that way about us.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispers.
“Can I—”
She waves me off with a teary sob and runs around the corner into the park. I don’t follow. She needs space. My chest is heavier but a huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. Is this what it feels like to be less selfish? If so, I might suck at it. I hope Piper forgives me one day and we’ll be friends again, but I can’t live for anyone else. Not for her or my family, not even for my father.
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I stride back toward the community center, hoping to find Autumn. I want to tell her about my dad, my mom, the reason I lied. Everything. She cares about me. I know she does. And I’m already her slave, if she’ll have me.
I raise my head and see her standing in the doorway, right in front of me. My stomach bungee dives off a bridge. “Autumn? Is that you?”
I’m an idiot. Of course it’s her. I just don’t want it to be, because then I have to face how long she’s been standing there and what she might have seen or overheard. Her flame-colored dress flutters in the breeze. Molten lava in the form of a girl pauses in the entryway, her eyes darting from me to the corner Piper just bolted around.
Shit.
She nods, but not one of acknowledgement. It’s more a gesture of decision, as though she’s cemented an opinion in that stubborn little head of hers. The wrong one. She doesn’t meet my gaze, but her eyes reflect, what? I can’t tell. Hurt. Anger. Confusion … or worse, inevitability.
Panic rips me apart as she takes a step back. “Autumn, hang on.”
A heartbeat later, she’s through the doorway, lost in the sea of dancers.
My feet pound the pavement as I lunge for the door. In my imagination, I’m down on my knees, telling Autumn everything. When I find her, I won’t hold anything back. I’ll risk every square inch of real estate that is my heart and offer it up to her. Quinn can be right about me and love. I’ll build a freaking monument to his rightness. Commission a statue with his smug, I-told-you-so-face on it with a plaque reading, “The King of Right” if only Autumn will give me a chance to explain.
27
Autumn
Plunging into the community center, I weave through scads of dancing couples, hunting for a ride home. Though Jesse and I rode here in Sydney’s rental car, I’ll take a cab, or go-cart, or mule if it will get me away from the sight of Caden kissing Piper.
At some point, he might try to apologize for (or justify) the lies. Say that after planting his lips squarely on mine multiple times, he had a momentary lapse in judgment, and he’s oh so sorry, but he plans to marry Piper. She’ll squeeze out two or three little Behr cubs for their happily-ever-after, and I’ll move on with my travel plans.
Whatever.
Only it’s not, because I rarely think about my road trip, now. And I’m pretty damn sure the reason my guts feel like I’ve swallowed razor blades is because it’s not all his fault. Time to admit I’m not always the blameless victim I pretend to be. I made choices, too.
And I’m in love with the big jerk.
Sure, I could be noble like Piper and walk away with some dignity, but I’d rather punch something. I lost. Lost him after pretending I didn’t want him, and it’s going to hurt like hell for a long time.
I’m so full of crap.
All week I’ve given myself speeches about how I planned to earn my scholarship, go to college, and build a new life far away from Caden. Tonight, reading Jesse’s speech on stage secured step one. But I know darn well that if Caden asked me to, I’d have forgiven his lies with a word and one of his crooked smiles. One moment spent looking into his dark eyes—right before he annihilated my insides with his mind-numbing kisses—and I would have said yes to anything. Okay, accept being cool with his kissing another girl.
Have you learned nothing, Aud?
The new me should stand politely while he says everything he thinks he needs to say (that he totally doesn’t), finish my last week of internship, and go home. Only someone let the old me out of her cage. Big mistake, because old me is drowning new me in a puddle of mud.
I need to calm down. The pulsing strobe light overhead syncs with the heavy beat of the music in my chest. I swear I’ll have a seizure, so I head for the girls’ bathroom (not that this location has saved me before) and dive inside.
There are so many girls packed inside, I can’t move. “Out!” I holler. A few glance up, unsure who I’m talking to. “Get the hell out. All of you!” Something in my face must convince them, because while no one’s moving, they all look ready to wet themselves.
“Are you deaf?” Sydney’s voice shrieks from behind me. “Go or there’ll be bloodshed. You’ve seen the movie Carrie, right? Move!”
That does it. Whoever’s left sidles out the door, sneaking glances at the “crazy witch girl” on their way out. I’m not proud of my moment of regression, but not sorry enough to apologize and invite them all back.
My sister gets a nod of thanks, grateful this once for her banshee impersonation. I walk to the first pint-sized sink and lean all my weight on the rim. My reflection in the mirror is a mystery. Hair teased and curled to perfection, smoky lids, tinted lips. A strange, but pretty girl I don’t know looks back.
“So, I take it you’ve seen Dad’s text?”
My head jerks. “What?”
“The text from Dad.” She shakes her cell at me like this explains everything. “About Mom.”
My mind reels harder. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. My phone died a couple of hours ago.” Sydney shoves her phone in my hand with an impatient huff, and I read the text.
Dad: Girls. Your mother is in town briefly to see me on a personal matter. She’s willing to meet with you, if you so desire. This might be your only opportunity to speak with her, so if there’s anything you’d like to discuss, seek a leave of absence from your employer. She leaves day after tomorrow.
Dad: Of course you are under no obligation to se
e her at all. I hope you won’t, but it’s entirely your choice. Dad.
Oh, sure Dad, entirely up to us. Never mind the veiled warning in your text. “What in the world?”
“Do you want to see her?” Sydney asks, her tone anxious.
“I guess. Maybe. I don’t know.” There’s so much to think about and no time to process. “Do you?”
“Yes, but not by myself. Will you go with me?” Coming from my independent, confident sister, her response is a surprise. We’re not big on asking each other for help, but considering the incredible gown she bought me, I guess that’s changing, too.
I don’t know how I feel about the woman who walked out of our lives eight years ago and never looked back. Why now? What could she possibly want? Could she miss us and want to apologize, or does the child she has with her new husband need a kidney, and she wants to know if we’re a match. I shudder. She’s probably just suffering from a case of guilt, or morbid curiosity, to see how we turned out, or to breathe a sigh of relief she didn’t get stuck raising two daughters she didn’t love.
“What about New York?”
Sydney waves a hand. “I already phoned my boss with the family emergency spiel, and told them I needed an extra couple of days. Dexter won’t mind taking Alex to the airport tomorrow for me.” My focus intensifies. “Yeah, he told me you turned him down. It’s better if he goes back alone. I’m not the sympathetic type, and I can’t look at those sad, brown eyes the whole trip. Man-eater.”
“Don’t start.”
“Two boys battling for your attention, and you don’t want either one? Like a little black widow, you are.”
I ignore my sister’s Yoda-ism, and push my hands against my churning stomach.
“Now, about Mom. I think we have to, don’t you?”
I peek at her phone. Dad’s text is time stamped thirty minutes ago. I wish I’d seen it when Sydney did, but I was outside getting my heart kicked. If this is our one opportunity to meet with Mom, I’m afraid the lost chance will haunt us forever if we refuse.
