Page 18 of Autumn on My Mind

Judging by Ben’s surprise, he didn’t know I was coming.

“Hi,” I say lamely, giving him a little wave.

He waves back, an awkward, belated motion. Then he turns to look at Dom, as do I.

Dominic does not wave. He does stand up, though, which is something. His body unfolds slowly, and he tosses the hammer to the ground, wiping his forehead and adjusting a necklace I hadn’t noticed before. He puts his hands on his hips as I approach.

Pinnacle of feminine virtue that I am, I do not notice his low-slung jeans or the muscular planes of his chest or the tiny trickle of sweat that’s trailing over his collarbone.

I might scowl a little when I see the look of smug amusement on his face.

“I wasn’t staring,” I say quickly.

But Dom’s lips hook into a skeptical smirk even as he shrugs. “I didn’t say anything.”

My fingers clench more tightly around the letter, which at this point probably has a sweaty handprint on it. I force myself to close the distance between us until I’ve reached him, and then I hold the letter out.

His smirk fades, and because he’s shirtless, I can see his muscles tense. “What’s this?” he says, his eyes dropping to the envelope.

I swallow and try to get my hand to stop shaking. It does not work.

“It’s a letter.”

He gives me a slow nod, his brows lifting. “I can see that. I mean, what’s in it?”

My heart. My regret.

“Just—some things,” I say instead. “That would be good to get out of the way if we’re living in the same town.” I pause. “Is this your house?”

“No.” A beat of silence, and then Dom goes on, “I moved into a place over off of First.”

I nod. Then I wave the letter more insistently at him, because if he doesn’t accept this today, I’ll probably never have the courage to offer it again. “Here,” I say.

Dominic’s eyes have always been the most expressive part of him. They grow guarded now, dropping back to letter and examining it like it’s poison. Then, slowly, his gaze still inscrutable, he reaches out and takes it.

Every single part of my body deflates with relief, but also with anxiety and fear and something deeper and more painful, too. I return his nod and shove my hands in my jacket pockets so he won’t see them trembling. Then I force myself to turn around and walk away, back across the dirt. I give Ben a bob of my head as I go, further, further, desperately seeking the peace I’ll find when I round the corner and out of Dominic’s sight.

And I don’t know what makes me do it. Just as I’m about to pass out of view, I find myself looking back at him—like I’ve always done.

I startle to see him watching me still, the letter clenched in his fist, his lips parted like he might say something.

But he doesn’t.

I scramble forward the last few steps, rounding the corner of the house and slumping against the side as soon as I’m out of sight. My heart pounds behind my ribs, too large and too fast, even when I take steadying breaths. There’s once again something large and heavy sitting on my chest⁠—

“So…Reese is back.”

I freeze at Bennett’s words, quiet now that I’ve rounded the corner but still audible. I lean sideways and strain to listen.

There’s no response from Dom, though, and I deflate a little—until Ben speaks again, his voice reluctant.

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

The aggressive sound of a hammer makes me jump, but I grow still again when Dominic speaks.

“Sure,” he says. His voice is light, but there’s a thread of tension underneath. “We can talk about Reese, just as soon as we talk about Maven⁠—”

“No thanks.”