by Elle Viviani
A few minutes later, he looks up from his computer screen with a snap of his fingers. “Ms. Hart, I’m ready for you!”
The partition wobbles as Autumn strides out from behind it. “…this look is killer,” she’s saying to Zoe, “and I’m totally buying everything I wore today. Especially that rose tattoo mesh shirt.”
She pauses as she spots me, then heads over. A trail of makeup and hair stylists follow in her wake as they try to put the finishing touches on her look. I stare at her face. It’s almost unrecognizable with the dark eye shadow, contouring, and teased hair. “You look incredible.”
She flushes under her bronzer. “It’s all smoke and mirrors. Look, I wanted to ask you if—”
A door bangs shut behind us. I turn to find my least favorite person walking toward us.
Cody grinds to a stop when he spots Autumn and me together. His eyes meet mine and grow cold, but the curl in his lip disappears when he turns to Autumn. “Hey.”
Autumn worries her bottom lip. “Hey.”
“Did you like the fan events I set up for you in Philadelphia?”
Autumn nods.
“There’s more where that came from, I promise.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“And I have a call with Burberry soon to confirm everything when we’re in New York City. They’re stoked to work with you.” He drags his gaze off her face after she nods. “Well, I’ll get back to it. Have a good shoot.”
I don’t get a single glance or goodbye as he walks away, which is more than fine with me.
Autumn’s silent for a moment before turning to me. “What are you doing after this?”
“I thought I’d made that clear: whatever you’re doing.”
Autumn blinks, her fake eyelashes fluttering against the shimmery gold eyeshadow brushed under her dark eyes. “Right. I wanted to walk around the city. You know, stretch my legs.”
“Then I’ll come with you.”
Autumn’s bright red lips draw back into a shy smile. “I like the sound of that.”
Zoe leans in and murmurs something in Autumn’s ear. She rolls her dramatic eyes before turning back to me. “Apparently I’m keeping Mr. Roberts waiting, but I’ll see you later, okay?”
Sweeping a hand over her tight patched denim skirt, Autumn turns and sashays over to the set. Her over-the-knee black leather boots clack loudly against the worn hardwood floor as her hips sway side to side.
Short skirt, strong thighs, skin-tight boots, bronzed skin. A whole afternoon chasing that sexiness?
I groan as my happiness turns to dread in the blink of an eye.
Damn. How am I going to survive this?
For the third time this afternoon, Autumn tugs at the baseball hat slung low over her head. “These things are so annoying to break in.”
“Caps aren’t shoes, Hartman. You don’t break them in.”
“Tell that to a ten-gallon hat.”
I sweep out my arm and push Autumn out of the way of a runaway toddler and the dad chasing after the little guy. He makes it pretty close to the ice cream parlor behind us before his dad catches up with him. “If it’s that bad, then take it off,” I say as we pick our way through the packed sidewalk.
“I can’t. The whole point is to blend in. To look like a local.”
I stare at the HOTLANTA scrawled across the top, and then down at the huge Great Dane strolling along next to us. “Yup, fitting in perfectly.”
Autumn punches my arm. “I’m not saying I don’t love interacting with fans, but today’s supposed to be laid back. That vacation in July? First one in years.”
“The one with Jensen?”
The tension is suddenly palpable between us at the sound of his name. We’ve been dancing around their breakup all day. Maybe it was time to rip off the Band-Aid.
I clear my throat. “Uh, back at the shoot, Jensen seemed—”
“We broke up!” Autumn practically shouts. She clamps a hand over her mouth and groans. “Oh my God, that was terrible. I’m like eleven years old.”
“You’re just nervous, though I don’t know why.”
She shrugs but stays silent. The hardness to her mouth tells me to back off, but I’m not about to let this go.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She sighs. “I don’t know, it felt awkward?”
“I get that…” I frown. “But are you okay?”
“I am, surprisingly. I see now that we were a mistake.” She pulls out her phone and starts typing. “Or maybe breakups are getting easier. I didn’t shed a single tear.”
“Do you usually?” I ask, going along with her attempt at lightening the mood.
“I haven’t for a while now. Only with people I love.”
Pain whips through me as I read between the lines. “Autumn—”
“Hungry?” She brandishes her phone. “I found us a Chinese restaurant with outdoor seating for Dolly.”
Before I can call bullshit on the subject change, she grabs my hand and tugs me forward. With every step, I grow more and more aware of her fingers curled around mine. The touch thrums through my body, making every cell come completely alive and alert with wanting, despite the warning bells ringing in my head.
At a red light, Autumn stops and scans the sidewalk. She looks more relaxed than I’ve seen her in weeks. Maybe she really is fine with the breakup.
“Haven’t had Chinese since that last night in Nashville,” she says, smiling up at me.
“Yup.”
“What’s wrong?”
I keep my unblinking gaze off of her dark eyes. “Nothing.”
“Okay.” She looks away, then does a double take when she catches sight of her hand in mine. Her fingers instantly wrench free from mine. “Sorry.”
“Don’t mention it,” I say gruffly, ignoring the empty feeling lingering in my palm.
We walk the rest of the distance to the restaurant in silence, stopping a few times for Dolly to check out some ratty-looking bushes and get bear hugged by a five-year-old who mistakes the Dane for a miniature pony.
“Happens all the time!” Autumn says as the little boy’s mother grapples with her son. Dolly gives her new fan a goodbye lick before following us down the street.
The silence grows while we wait to be seated on the patio, and when the hostess announces that our table’s ready, Autumn and I start forward at the same time.
“Sorry!” we cry in unison. Autumn stares at some point south of my chin while I step back.
I motion toward the table. “Go ahead.”
“You can go first.”
“No, please.”
“Are you sure?” Autumn says in an overly polite voice.
The hostess stares at us when we finally thread our way over to her. I kick myself for being so awkward as I follow Autumn’s quick steps. Being nervous after holding hands with a girl? What is this, third grade?
But unfortunately, it doesn’t end there. Our hands graze as we reach for the same chair, setting off another round of “Sorry!” and “No, you go ahead.”
Once we’ve managed to get into our respective chairs without any more touching, I lean in and break the eye contact boycott. “Do you feel like things have been, I don’t know, off between us lately?”
Autumn’s roaming gaze jumps to mine. “Oh my God, yes! But what do we do about it? Because I miss you, Bry.”
The helplessness in her voice cuts deep. “I miss you, too.” And suddenly she’s smiling at me, so happily that my chest clenches as I fight to keep control over the feelings stirring inside me.
A girl in her early twenties steps up to the table. “Hello! I’m Willow and I’ll be taking care of y’all today. Have you two had time to look over the menu?”
Autumn and I look at each other. A slow smile spreads on her lips. “I think we’re ready…”
After Autumn rattles off our regular order, I lean back and lace my fingers behind my head. “Why don’t we rewind? Tell me how you got discovered. I only know the CliffNo
tes version.”
She laughs. “Seriously? Just read one of the dozens of magazine articles that have asked me that question.”
“Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I’d rather hear it from you.”
“Um, okay…” She leans back and takes a deep breath. “You know I moved to Nashville after graduation, right? Well, I went to community college, but I can’t say I went to many classes other than my music ones. My mom almost killed me when she saw my grades the first semester, but I think she knew I wasn’t interested in the getting a degree. Especially when she found out I was using all my waitressing money to book time in that recording studio in Berry Hill.”
“The one with a dancing mushroom on the sign?”
She cringes. “The very same. So after a few years of me spending more time in the studio than college, she said she’d let me give it a shot. A real shot.”
I frown. “Katherine let you drop out?”
“A break, is how she put it. Indefinitely, as it turns out, because once I doubled up on guitar and voice lessons, I began to get noticed. My roommate helped me put some videos on YouTube and find a website designer, then my mom hired an agent…” Her fingers drum the tabletop as she leans back and smiles. “I drove myself to every gig that would have me in my beat-up Cherokee, and two years later, Nashville Universal Records was knocking at my door. My first contract was terrible, but they changed their tune when I made the Top 40 and never left.”
Autumn leans forward. “I remember the first time I walked out on stage at the Ryman after playing at every shitty dive bar on Broadway. Scariest moment of my life. And the best.”
I muster up a grin that I hope hides my regret for not being there. “I bet.”
“It’s true, you know, that the Ryman will sing back to you.” She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
I’m so struck by the beauty across the table from me that I have to force my voice out of my throat. “I think the voice that sings has something to do with that.”
“Aren’t you the charmer,” she says, but I can tell she’s pleased.
I shrug. “Only when deserved.”
Three plates of steaming hot Chinese food land on the table between us, and we tuck in with gusto. A few minutes later, Autumn spears a snow pea with her fork and raises it to her lips. “Why are you still renting?”
I groan. “You forgot the rules of this game—avoid awkwardness.”
“I’m sick of this game. I wanna know why you’re still renting after three months. You love Nashville.”
“It’s better than Baghdad,” I mutter, giving up on my shrimp.
Autumn grabs my hand as I reach for her snow peas. “Then why not put down roots?”
I glance up and meet her irritated look. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t realize how gorgeous she is with flushed skin and flaming eyes. “Because I move around a lot, you know that. When have I ever stayed in the same place for more than a few months?”
“When you have something to keep you there, that’s when.”
“I guess I didn’t realize I had that in Nashville.”
“You have me,” she says with an angry toss of her head, “and I…I’d like to think I have you. You’re the only one who gets me.”
Maybe assholery will throw her off if deflection won’t. “Oh, come on, you’re surrounded by people who love everything you do and say.”
“It’s not the same. They’re not you. They love Autumn Hart, not Hartman. They see my image, my fame, what I stand for. But you see the real me and don’t run for the hills. At least…” her gaze dips to her plate “…not again.”
All thoughts of replaying the asshole card fly out of my head after a speech like that. It takes everything in me to not get up, fold Autumn into my arms, and tell her that leaving her years ago was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
I groan deeply as I stretch my arms overhead. “It’s true, even though you have Kung Pao sauce dribbling down your chin.”
Her mouth drops open. “No way.”
I try not to laugh as she snatches up a napkin. “A little to the right.”
After raising her eyebrows at me and getting the all-clear, she tosses her napkin onto the table and leans back. “Thanks.”
“I’ll always tell you when you’re wearing your lunch.”
“No, I mean about listening. For just letting me talk.” Autumn’s voice grows quiet. “Sometimes it’s lonely being surrounded by people all the time.”
I almost choke on my shrimp. Hadn’t Koa said the exact same thing last week?
Autumn forces a smile. “Don’t I sound like a cliché? A star griping about the loneliness of fame. Totally ungrateful. I bet you have no idea what I’m talking about, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I’d had my fair share of feeling isolated and alone in the middle of barracks. It was the downtime that got to me as a SEAL; the not knowing what to do with yourself without orders, without a mission.
“So, how about we feed Dolly the rest of this shrimp and get out of here?”
Autumn smirks. “Like you haven’t been secretly feeding her under the table this whole time.”
I don’t answer because I’m secretly feeding Dolly another shrimp.
Autumn gasps and makes a dive for my hand. “Bryce Raymond Hill, she’s a Great Dane and you’re massive! You can’t do anything without me noticing.”
Dolly and I look at each other.
Don’t worry, girl, she’s bluffing.
Autumn narrows her eyes, reading my mind. “You’re going to spoil her.”
“So the organic dog food and down feather dog bed I saw earlier were an effort to toughen her up?”
“Yeah, okay.” She catches the waitress’s eye and motions for the check. “I’m the worst.”
Willow scurries over and places the check holder between us. I grab it before Autumn has a chance.
“Let me get this,” I say, cutting off her protests. I slap down three crisp twenties and hand it back to Willow. “It’s the least I can do after feeding your dog jumbo shrimp, because let’s face it, you’re the one that’s going to have to deal with the aftermath.”
Autumn cocks her head as she stands from the table. “Me? Oh no, honey, I’m calling your room when Dolly wants to go out at three a.m.”
I sneak a glance at Dolly as I untie her leash. Her head tilt tells me Autumn’s not joking around. “Two against one. Looks like I’m outnumbered,” I say, leading us toward the exit.
“You have no idea what you’ve just—” Autumn grabs her head as she collides with my back. “Ow! Forget how to walk?”
I don’t answer because I’m staring at the crowd gathered at the entrance. The cameras and phones clutched in their hands tells me harmless groupies, but the prickling on the back of my neck tells me a few paparazzi are in there, too. Not so harmless.
I turn and place a firm hand on Autumn’s shoulder. “I need you do exactly what I tell you.”
“What? It’s just some fans. This happens all the time.”
I shake my head. “Press, too.”
Autumn’s eyes grow worried as they lock onto mine. “What? How do you know?”
“I just do. Now, do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
A heavy weight settles in my gut as I reel from the conviction etched in her voice.
“Then you need to stay close to me. I’ll take Dolly’s leash. Hold my waist, my shirt, whatever you need to if things get bad, okay?” My hand tightens on her shoulder as she nods. “I’ll take care of you.”
She places her hand over my heart. Her gaze never leaves my face. The trust I see there is deep, unwavering, strong. “I know.”
I hold out my hand and Autumn doesn’t hesitate. Her small hand slips into mine, lacing her long fingers between mine before squeezing.
“Let’s do this,” she says with grim determination.
I turn, tighten my grasp on my two girls, and hit the wall of people waiting for us.
<
br /> Chapter 12
Autumn
I lose my grip on Bryce the moment we enter the crowd.
“Autumn!” a reporter yells to my left.
“Ms. Hart!” another one shouts in front of me.
Each way I turn, there’s a wall of people screaming for my attention. I shut my eyes as they converge on me, struggling for air as my thoughts begin to race.
“I’m right here…” Soft lips press against my ear, calming and exciting me simultaneously. I open my eyes to find two serious brown eyes staring back at me. Bryce’s rough cheek grazes mine as he leans forward. “Take my hand and don’t let go.”
His hand captures mine, and then we’re moving.
“Stand back,” he yells, throwing out his other hand. His hulking form forces people out of our path as he drags us through the crowd. Bryce glances over his shoulder at me as we near the edge. His eyes are hard, mouth drawn, jaw clenched.
Our hands press together as our footsteps pound against the pavement. I force my legs to keep up with him, but my lungs scream for air.
“Stop,” I pant. “I can’t!”
Bryce’s eyes lose their hard edge as they meet mine. He pauses, scanning the road. “This way, there’s an alley.”
I’m about to collapse when he pulls us around the corner and stops. The running, the crushing crowd, the adrenaline coursing through my veins catches up with me all at once.
“Autumn!”
Bryce grabs me by the waist as I slump forward. A sob escapes from my lips, and I let him gather me into his arms, his fingers threading though my hair until my head is safely nestled in his palm.
“You’re fine, you’re safe,” he says in a tight voice.
I try to speak but it comes out as a strangled laugh, foreign and strange to my ears.
Bryce pulls back and peers into my face. “Are you alright?”
I nod, then shake my head. Tears begin to well up in the corners of my eyes. “I don’t—” I stop with a gasp, finally noticing the leash dangling free in Bryce’s hand. All the pent-up fear and helplessness I’d shoved away comes roaring back in full force.
