Being proud of my cousin for following her dreams is completely different to being pissed at Avery for up and leaving town to follow hers. For one, Autumn didn’t up and leave, cutting off everyone who loved her like they meant nothing. Even when I tried to reach out, she didn’t respond, and that told me everything I needed to know about how Avery felt about our nearly ten-year relationship.
Autumn’s truck lurches to a stop, the door swinging open as it rolls forward a fraction before she throws it into park. I’m glad to see we won’t have a repeat of four summers ago when she forgot to put it in park and it rolled into one of the fences. She apologized, but it still made for work we didn’t need.
Autumn walks around the vehicle, her hair blowing in the breeze, and I exhale before heading in her direction. We’re technically cousins, but our parents raised us all together, so Autumn and her sister, Olivia, are more like siblings to us. If either of them need anything, we’re here for them, especially since their parents died in a car wreck twenty years ago.
Having spotted me, she waits at the edge of the driveway, her arms wrapped around her waist.
As I approach, I call, “You know, if you come racing down my driveway one more time, I’ll have you out there picking the stones out of the edging with a pair of tweezers.”
She laughs, sliding under my outstretched arm and giving me a side hug before stepping back. “And I’d tell you I was busy. I have a business to run, don’t you know. We don’t all get to play cowboy for a living.”
Shaking my head, I pull off my Stetson and head for the house. “Now, why wouldn’t it surprise me that you’d pretend to be busy to get out of hard work. Come, I think Mom has some fresh lemonade for us.”
Autumn follows me into the house, dropping her purse onto the chair next to the door. I have no doubt that she’s here for a favor; something is probably broken in the coffee shop, and rather than calling someone out to repair it, she’s here to ask me to take a look. The truth is, I’d rather she came to me.
In the kitchen, Mom is sitting at the table peeling potatoes. As I pass, I give her cheek a kiss and swipe up her nearly empty glass.
“So, what brings you out here?” I ask as I busy myself serving the lemonade.
Autumn picks up a glass and takes a sip. “Well.” She looks at me from under her lashes. “I need a favor.”
I roll my eyes, a knowing smirk on my mouth. “I’ve already gathered that much. What do you need?”
“Some work done on the apartment above the shop.” She sips her drink, her watchful eyes fixed on me.
Frowning, I cock my head. “You’re moving in there?”
She huffs out a laugh. “No. God, no.”
Setting my glass down, I lean my hip against the counter and say, “Look, if you’re just going to rent it out, I can come by in a couple of weeks, but we’re pretty snowed under around here.”
She looks at me sheepishly. “Avery’s going to move in, so I need it done sooner rather than later. Although she said she doesn’t mind moving in as is, I can’t let her do that, Gray. Besides, the place needs doing up anyway if I’m going to do something with it eventually.”
It feels like the room tilts, and I grip the countertop to keep myself upright. My pulse pounds in my ears so loud, I can barely hear my own breathing.
No.
I must’ve misheard.
There’s no way that Avery is staying in town. I thought she would be passing through, stay a week or two, and then be gone. Hell, I thought I could avoid her and somehow wipe the memory of her from my mind, just like I tried to twelve years ago.
But she’s not leaving?
She’s staying, breathing the same air, slipping into the cracks I never managed to fully seal shut. And worst of all, if she’s moving into Autumn’s place, then she’s making roots.
That night in the barn, I convinced myself it was just a release, that it would burn any desire I had for her out of me. Of course it didn’t work, but now she’s going to be in town, within arm’s reach, and all I can think about is how she tasted, the sounds she made as she came on my cock, and what it might be like to call her mine again. I’d be foolish to think that could be a possibility, right?
At my lack of acknowledgment, Autumn slides her glass back onto the counter before wrapping her arms around her waist. “I’m sorry. This was me overstepping. I shouldn’t have asked you, especially given your history.” She crosses the room before she adds, “I’ll get someone to come and do the work.”
She’s bending to hug my mom and saying goodbye by the time I pull myself together. “I’ll come round tomorrow afternoon. Don’t ever apologize for asking for help, okay, Autumn?”
Relief floods her features as she straightens. “Thank you, Gray. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I turn my back to the room, dropping my chin to my chest and closing my eyes as I suck in a lungful of air.
Regret floods my senses as I remember how Avery and I left things in the barn. HowIleft things. I should’ve said something. Instead, I walked away like what we’d done didn’t mean a damn thing, when in fact it meant more than I can put into words. It was like reclaiming part of my past. Part of her.
“You’re doing a good thing, Grayson.” My mom’s soft voice pulls me back into the room. When I turn toward her, she adds, “I’m proud of you for helping, even though I know you’d rather not.”
