Page 95 of Autumn on My Mind

It’s never been this beautiful before.

“Incredible,” I murmur, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Dominic look at me.

“You’ve been up here before, right?” he says.

“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “In high school. But not like—like this.” The words are out before I can think better of them. I shift uncomfortably, hoping Dom won’t ask further—but of course that’s futile.

“Like this?” he says, and when I chance a glance at him, a smile is tugging over his lips. “You mean…with a very handsome man?”

My awkwardness dissipates as I laugh. “Yeah. With a very handsome man.”

He hums, pulling one knee up and resting an arm over it, the other still stretched out. “And…what about with any fumbling boys?” There’s hesitation in this question.

“No,” I say quickly. “Not like that at all. I mean—” My cheeks heat until they’re probably the same color as the dying sun. “I told you I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“All that means is that lips never touched,” he says, but his body relaxes, and his voice is easier. “It does not take into account missed kisses or teenage idiots.”

“No missed kisses,” I say. “No teenage idiots. Happy?”

“I don’t care either way,” he says, a little too nonchalantly.

“Really?” I point at his face. “Because you’re trying not to smile. Right there”—I poke the corner of his lips and laugh as he swats my hand away—“that’s a smile trying to happen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, grinning now.

“Liar,” I mutter, but I’m grinning too. I nudge him with my elbow, and he dodges out of the way with a laugh, catching my elbow and wrapping one hand around my upper arm.

We both freeze as we find ourselves pressed together, my side and shoulder leaning across his chest. I turn my head ever so slightly and find him right there, his face inches from mine, and his eyes widen as his grip on my arm releases.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I swear I can feel the racing beat of his where we’re pressed together. A rhythm frantic with longing and the ache of first love, surrounded by the sweetness of trust and comfort.

I don’t know who moves first. All I know is that one second I’m breathing air and the next I’m tasting him, the intoxicating slide of our lips as I climb onto his lap and run my fingers through his hair—everything I’ve dreamed of and wanted and more.

And the sun hides its head and dips below the horizon—unwilling to witness the birth of something that cannot be.

Because the sun, at least, knows better.

While I’m aware that Sunday is usually a day of rest, I do very little resting. Instead I worry a lot, and pace the floor of my shed, and commandeer Nathan’s kitchen for a quick batch of muffins—pumpkin spice, the kind from a box. Alvina drifts in wearing a velour tracksuit; I don’t know why, I don’t care to ask. It’s the first time I’ve laid eyes on her since the potluck. She asks what I’m making, if it’s sugar-free, and then wrinkles her nose and sighs in disappointment when I tell her the muffins definitely have sugar.

Then she leaves, a mournful air to her steps, and without another word.

My worrying and pacing come from a trip to the Walker house I make with Dom. The weirdo who’s been stalking Liv broke in last night. She’s understandably shaken, and I’m worried about her, so when Dom goes over to install new locks and security stuff, I tag along.

By which I mean I force my way into his truck and refuse to get out, even when he says he’s going alone. What finally convinces him is that he knows I’ll drive over myself if he doesn’t let me come. Despite the level of friendliness and even teasing we’ve cultivated recently, we’re unusually grim.

“Everything will be fine,” Dom says once we’re leaving, pulling away from the Walker’s house. His voice is quiet, but he glances over at me briefly. “The Walkers are a solid bunch, and they’re not going to take this lying down. Liv will be okay.”

“They should have asked me and Ari to run point on this whole operation,” I mutter, watching the house disappear in the rearview mirror. “No one is going to kick butts like the best friends of a woman threatened.”

He lets out his classic huff of laughter, and we fall silent again. There seems to be an unspoken agreement between us not to discuss our dance last night, but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it. So when Dom speaks again, I’m grateful.

“Need a distraction?” he says. “There’s someplace I wanted to go. You can come along if you want.”

“A distraction would be great,” I say with relief, and he nods…

Which is how I find myself standing in front of my father’s tombstone, looking down at it and then turning to Dom.

“You are so bad at lightening the mood,” I say flatly.