“What if they would have found me? Would that be so bad?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Suspended from the team, grounded for life, more yelling from Dad than either of our eardrums can withstand. Don’t even get me started on the scouts. Doesn’t get much worse than that, does it?” I pull the quilt up to his chin and tuck it tightly around his body all the way to his waist. I gently tap his chest and let out a relieved laugh. “But no worries, right? Crisis averted.”
He should be thankful we saved his drunk ass. He should be freaking overcome with gratitude.
Whew, Autumn, that was a close one! Thank you so much for looking out for me. I don’t know what I’d do without y’all.
Brady says none of that. He places an arm over his forehead, shielding his face, and releases a heavy sigh.
“I hear you say suspended from the team, and I know I should be relieved I wasn’t caught.” He mashes his palms into his eyes and groans. “I should be fucking relieved, Autumn. But the truth is I feel like my chest is being squeezed by an iron fist.”
I drop down to sit on the bed beside him, dumbfounded. “What are you saying, Brady?”
I take a long look at the person in front of me, because no way is this my brother talking. He can’t mean what he’s saying. He’d never toss away his lifelong dream like that. No amount of pressure or stress can erase what’s he’s worked so hard for. He’s got a knack for taking all the crap that’s thrown at him and spinning it into one helluva Friday night highlight reel. The guy sitting in front of me doesn’t look anything like the brother I know.
He scrubs his face in frustration and waves me off. “Shit. Don’t listen to me. It’s just the whiskey talking. Don’t believe a word I say,” he says as he shakes his head. “I’m just tired and feeling sorry for myself.”
There’s more truth to his words than either of us would like to admit, but I wouldn’t know where to start with that land mine. I wrack my brain for the right words, but everything comes up short.
So I settle for, “Okay.”
God, I’m such an idiot.
“Okay,” Brady returns with a slightly more cheerful smile. It’s obvious it’s only for my benefit, but I’ll take it.
“I’m gonna …” I say, throwing a thumb behind me. “Seb’s waiting for me at the corner. So …”
He wrenches the covers out from underneath me, and I stumble to standing with the force. The wall breaks my fall, and I grace my big brother with a one finger salute. “Get outta here. And don’t you dare get caught sneaking out. We’ve dodged one bullet tonight; I doubt we’d be so lucky a second time.”
“Don’t worry about me, big brother. As long as the golden boy is tucked safely in bed, no one notices what the baby sister does,” I say with a lightness I try my best to feel. “Pay no attention to the sister on the sidelines.”
Isn’t it funny how the boy who carries the world on his shoulders dreams of letting it all go, and the girl with all the freedom at her fingertips just wants someone to care if she comes home? Or maybe it isn’t funny at all.
I’m out the door and down the street without so much as a peep from my parents. When I round the block and see Seb waiting for me on the tailgate of his truck, I break out into a run. His solid body absorbs the shock when I launch myself at him. My arms latch around his neck, my feet lock behind his back, and my lips meet his for a kiss that’s long overdue.
I open my eyes to find him gazing back at me, and we both laugh.
“Hi,” I whisper as my lips brush his.
“Hey,” he returns, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.
And suddenly, I’m not the invisible little sister anymore. There is someone in this world—the one who matters most—who sees me just fine.
Chapter 10
Dear Autumn,
What do you say to the girl who stole your heart before you even knew what to do with it? How do you apologize for breaking hers when she trusted you to protect it? The answer is I don’t have a clue, but I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life figuring it out if you’d only let me. I’ve done a lot of things that I’m not proud of, but you were always the one good thing in my life. I hope one day you can forgive me for the hurt I’ve caused. I’m a different man than the scared boy who left, and I’ll always be here, hoping you give me the chance to prove it to you.
Always waiting,
Sebastian
Autumn
Present Day
Providence, LA
“What did the letter say?” Brady asks for the millionth time.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you about it?” I throw my toothbrush and hairdryer into the duffel bag and start shuffling through drawers. “Probably because it’s none of your business.”
Before I can throw my ratty jeans into the bag, Brady swipes it away and puts it behind his back. He shakes his head and glares.
“Who gave you that little love note? Me! Now it is a love note, right?” I cross my arms and pinch my lips shut. “Autumn, I am literally the messenger. People kill the messenger. They, at the very least, tell them what is in the note before sending them to the guillotine. So?”
I reach behind him and retrieve my bag, all the while continuing to pack and ignore him completely. He releases a long sigh, letting me know he’s in it for the long haul.
Relentless. My brother will peck something to death until there is nothing left but dust and gravel. As my hand runs over Seb’s note, tucked safely in the side zipper of the duffel, I’m certain that’s all that’s left of the two of us. Dust, gravel, and a deep-seated resentment.
His letter? Just pretty words. The ugly swirling in my gut after Seb skipped town without a word is still alive and well inside me. No amount of ink and paper can make up for actions that sliced, scarred down deep into my heart, not to mention my family.
Not to mention my own actions after the accident. I did what I had to do to make a life for myself, and I can’t apologize for that now. When the love of your life hightails it without a word, you move on. You make do. And you never let those words of betrayal see the tip of a pen or top of a page. Some things are better left unsaid, and some wrongs are best left unforgiven.
Until fate tap dances in and shuffle-ball-steps all over your best laid plans.
After years of no contact and no clue where Sebastian Kelly ran off to, there he was, back in our hometown. When Brady asked me to attend the Kellys’ funeral with him, I was hesitant at first but figured there was no way he’d actually show.
Heel toe … well done, karma.
Then Brady tells me he lives in Haven. Haven—home to Southern Louisiana University. The only college in the state of Louisiana with a graduate program in physical therapy. And it just so happens he’s got a great apartment for rent at nearly half the rate of any other apartments in the area.
Heel toe step heel … Seriously, karma, can’t I get a break?
“I see that drawn-up, crotchety face you’re putting on, and I don’t like it, sis. Things aren’t—” He pulls the bag away from me again and waits for me to meet his eye. “Things didn’t happen the way we thought they did back then.”
“Really, Brady? It was all a bad dream? You weren’t hurt. He didn’t run. I-I-”
“You and me? Yeah, that shit happened. But he didn’t run, at least not like you think he did.”
I shake my head, rejecting his words. No matter how much I protest, he keeps talking, breaking down the carefully crafted world I live in.
All the tears … all the lies … how? How in the hell did we end up in this mess?
With every word Brady utters, karma keeps on tap dancing. Shuffle-ball-step … heel toe … heel toe step heel.
I’m just not sure if it’s fracturing my heart or breaking down my resolve.
Only time will tell.
Chapter 11
Sebastian
Two Months Later
Haven, LA
“If you ever let one slip in class, just pawn it off on whoever’s sitti
ng behind you. I mean, don’t fart if you can help it, but things happen sometimes.”
“Temple is an all-boys school, Uncle Seb. If I were to guess, they probably hold farting contests at lunch every day,” Isaac says, chuckling to himself.
“You’re right, I bet they do. Still good advice, though,” I say, and Isaac keeps doodling in his notebook. “If you go skinny dipping, be sure you stash your clothes in a secret hiding spot. Nothing like walking out of a cold pond to find your shit’s been snatched. You know, because it’s cold.”
“Oh God,” Isaac whispers, and I see the splotchy red crawling up his neck.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you, man, but I feel like I have all this knowledge to impart on you. God knows your dad probably never did. He’s strung so tight, I seriously doubt he’s able to fart. And I’m pretty sure that GI Joe getup is stitched directly onto his skin, so no skinny dipping either. For the next couple of years, it’s me and you, kid. That’s not a lot of time to give you the keys to the kingdom, but I sure want to try.”
“I swear, Uncle Seb, I’m good.” Isaac chuckles and closes his notebook. “I won’t fart when I shouldn’t, and I’ll keep the shrinkage under wraps. Okay?”
“Okay. Oh! And remember, a buzz only lasts so long, but the photographic evidence is forever.” I cringe at the thought of what was probably floating around Prosper when I was a kid. Since his neck is already flaming red, I’ll keep those stories to myself for now.
Isaac’s only been living with me for a week, but he’s settling in nicely. I was hesitant at first, when Lance called, saying his son needed a place to live for his last two years of high school. I’ve only met the kid a handful of times. But Isaac’s only options were moving in with me or moving to Germany with his mom and stepdad. I remember being out of options all too well, so in the end, I was happy to give Isaac another alternative. He still had to move away from home, but Louisiana’s a shitload closer to Texas than Germany.
My house is nearly twice the size of my old apartment above the coffee shop. Because of that, I expedited the move so we could have a bit more leg room. Most nights, I come home to find the laundry and dishes all taken care of. The most rebellious thing he’s done this week is go through my record collection. The kid’s got great taste in music, so I even showed him where I keep my record player. He’s the most well-behaved roommate a man could ask for.
Above all else, he’s funny and kind, and very aware of the people around him. I don’t think that can be said for most teenagers. I was happy to open my home to Isaac, but I hadn’t counted on really liking the kid. But I do. And I want to give him sixteen years’ worth of uncle wisdom as quickly as possible, no matter how embarrassed he gets.
Isaac looks around the deserted coffee house and shrugs. The last of the customers filtered out about twenty minutes ago.
“Mind if I head to the house, Uncle Seb? Mom’s supposed to call me in thirty minutes, and I want to shower before then.”
He shoves the notebook into his book sack and tosses it over his shoulder. School doesn’t start for another month, and the kid’s already toting his book sack around. See what I mean? Perfect.
The coffee shop is only a few blocks from the house, so he pops in when he’s bored, or the fridge is lacking. I’m working on my domestic tendencies, but I’m still a bachelor at heart. A jar of pickles and a bag of beef jerky usually sum up the contents of my fridge and pantry. Isaac and I have mastered the art of take-out.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Just flip the sign to closed on your way out. I think I’ll shut down a little early tonight,” I say, as I walk to the back to turn out the lights. I hear the jingle of the door as Issac walks out, and I wait to hear it click shut behind him.
“Sorry, we’re closed for the night,” I hear him say, but I keep walking, hoping the straggling customer will take his cue and leave so I can get everything cleaned up for the night.
“Oh … I-I thought you were open until nine.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end because I know that voice. I’ll never forget that voice.
I’m halfway across the shop before I even realize I’m moving. “Wait,” I call out, petrified she’ll leave or vanish into thin air before I can rejoice in the fact that she came to me. She came to me—that has to mean something.
I pull the door from Isaac’s grasp and open it wide.
“One more lesson for the night, Isaac. When a girl shows up … when the girl shows up, you’re always open,” I say, never tearing my eyes away from Autumn.
I watch her teeth tug at her bottom lip. I memorize the curve of her neck, the wisps of hair brushing against it. I breathe in every piece of her I’ve loved since I was a boy and hold it close to my heart.
Delicate, fidgeting fingers. Nails painted, but always chipped.
Freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose, no matter how hard she tries to hide them.
Azure eyes, fierce even in sorrow, because nothing and no one can steal her fire.
Home. Autumn will always be home to me.
“O … kay…” Isaac says as he stands between me and everything I’ve ever wanted.
“See you at home, Isaac.” I give him a gentle nudge in the right direction—the right direction being out of my damn way.
“Oh, right!” His body jolts into action, and he waves awkwardly at Autumn before taking off.
We stare at each other for long seconds, and I revel at the mere sight of her. After starving for all those years, no matter how long I stare, it’ll never be enough. It’s always been that way with her—never enough time, never enough kisses … never enough. A smile tugs at my lips, and my heart stutters in my chest as if the cocoon protecting me for years cracks open and withers away, leaving me vibrant, alive, and ready to take on the world.
Autumn’s mood obviously doesn’t match mine, her expression more a mixture of fear and hesitation. She looks on the verge of throwing herself into my arms and running in the other direction, all at the same time. She wrings her hands in front of her stomach, and my eyes zero in on the piece of paper fisted in them.
Seeing her feels amazing, but strained and uneasy at the same time. The energy between us feels forced and unnatural—when being with Autumn, loving her, has been the most natural thing in my life.
Being here with her today feels like coming home again, only to find the photos taken off the wall and the design a cold, impersonal art deco.
“Part of me is confused. And sorry. But the biggest part, after all this time, is still so angry,” she whispers.
“Come inside, Autumn, please.”
“And I don’t know how to stop,” she says, ignoring my request. She holds up the paper in her fist and frowns. “I’ve read this letter, more times than I care to admit, and I want a chance to see what’s next, but I know I’m not ready to take it. So many regrets that can’t be forgiven. There are things, Seb … things you don’t know …”
“I know,” I whisper. I reach out to take her hand, but she shies away from me. “Just … come inside and let’s—”
“How could you just leave me?” Her voice cracks on the last word, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
I suck in my lips, attempting to hide the flinch. Hearing the question I’ve asked myself a hundred, no, a thousand times over hurts as much as it always has. It hurts that much more coming from her.
Why did you leave? You should’ve gone back. You never ever should have left.
Cue the self-deprecating ramblings of my regretful mind.
“It wasn’t that simple. I was wrong, and I’m so sorry, but it just wasn’t that simple.”
I want to say a thousand things, explain to her every single thought bottled up inside of me since the day my parents kicked me out. But the look on her face tells me I don’t have that kind of time. One wrong move and she’ll run. One wrong move and I’ll lose her forever.
“I know it wasn’t. It wasn’t simple for you to leave and it wasn’t easy for me to sta
y. My brain knows you’re sorry, but my heart just can’t catch up,” she says with a humorless smile. “You know, things weren’t simple at home either. You didn’t take all the complications with you when you left.” She sighs and shakes her head. “And here we are.”
“Yes. Here we are.” I smile and shrug. “But that’s something. Right?”
She huffs, and her lips turn down into a resigned frown. “Brady told me you have an apartment for rent. I’ve been searching for a place, but they’re all way out of my price range. I didn’t realize the rent prices were this high in Haven. I start school in a month, and I’ve got nowhere to live.” She sounds exasperated and more than a little put-out. She shrugs and lets out a frustrated sigh. “It seems I’m out of options.”
“It’s yours,” I say quickly.
“Wait. I don’t even know where it—”
“We’ll work all that out later, but the location is great. It’s in a safe area, and it’s newly remodeled. It’ll be perfect for you, I promise.”
“How many bedrooms?”
“One. Well, one bedroom and a smaller room I always used as an office,” I explain. “But the walls are partial. They’re tall, but don’t go all the way up to the ceiling, so I wouldn’t suggest a roommate.”
She nods, and I exhale a relieved breath. “Okay. Thank you,” she says, sounding relieved. She chews her lip nervously, and her steely eyes settle on mine. “It’s just an apartment. Right? I need it to be just an apartment.”
“Yeah, of course,” I answer too quickly and with a nod resembling a bobble head with a loose spring.
I choose to ignore the edge of reluctance in her posture and the firm set of her jaw. Autumn may not be able to forgive me today, but if she takes the apartment, I have every day for the foreseeable future to convince her I’m the only one for her. I always have been, and I always will be. The fact that she doesn’t realize the apartment is above the coffee shop I own? Just a minor detail.
Waiting for Autumn Page 6
