The Edge of Autumn Read online

  After what might have been a second or a lifetime, we broke apart, our lungs trying to recover the oxygen that our hormones insisted was unnecessary. Sara’s eyes were wide, as though she were surprised by the result of her decision. “Whoa,” she whispered, and I gave a breathless laugh.

  “Whoa, indeed,” I whispered back, leaning my forehead against hers. We stood like that for a moment, listening to the hum of the refrigerator and the soft sounds of her mother moving around upstairs. The feel of that kiss was seared into my soul; I already craved the touch of her lips and it had only just ended. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, blue eyes alight with pleasure. God, she was beautiful. In that moment, I felt like we were both finally right where we belonged, like the rest of the world had ceased to exist. I understood now why Romeo was willing to die for Juliet.

  My hands were still on her waist, but a creak from the staircase sent us flying apart like the proverbial teenagers caught necking in the kitchen. I almost laughed aloud at the cliché, but Sara spun around to grab plates out of the cupboards and I sobered at the thought of her mom actually discovering us. I didn’t think either of us was ready for that just yet and though the concern was beginning to fade, I still thought there was a chance Sara would bolt away from this relationship like a frightened rabbit if anything happened to frighten her enough. I couldn’t let that happen, not when the walls she’d put up around herself for the past two years had finally started to crumble under my persistent charm. Or, you know, whatever it was that had drawn us together.

  I pulled a block of tofu and some vegetables from the fridge and set them on the counter by the stove. It was fancier than what I was used to, but I managed to get a pan heating before Mrs. Matthews entered the kitchen. She looked at me, since Sara was avoiding eye contact. “Scrambled tofu okay?” I asked, my voice sounding odd even to my own ears.

  She beamed. “Travis, you are full of surprises!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know where Sara found you, but I certainly hope you stick around.”

  I heard a strangled sound from Sara and smiled brightly back at her mother. “Thank you, ma’am, I hope so too.”

  Mrs. Matthews grabbed a book off the table and gestured to the back yard. “If you two have this under control, I guess I’ll go read for a bit,” she said. There was a twinkle in her eye that I feared meant she knew exactly what had been going on before her arrival in the kitchen but I tried to play it cool and simply nodded. She gave me one last smile and then slipped out the French doors into the yard.

  I could hear Sara’s sigh of relief behind me and turned to her. “I think she likes me,” I teased, grinning broadly.

  She rolled her eyes but I could see the smile she was fighting to contain. “Don’t let it go to your head, Holmes.”

  I reached out and cupped her face in my hand, stroking her cheek with my thumb. “By the way,” I murmured, leaning close. “You are a phenomenal kisser.” I was rewarded with a blush and a glare before she turned back to chopping the peppers and mushrooms. Since she wasn’t looking, I let my gaze wander over her slender figure before leaning close enough to whisper in her ear, “And you have the softest skin I’ve ever felt.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, though I wasn’t sure if it was from the words or from the tickle of my breath against her earlobe. I grinned like a fool as I turned back to the stove to fry up the tofu. For a moment, the sluice of the knife through the vegetables and the sizzle of the frying pan were the only sounds in the room, then Sara made a soft humming sound and said quietly, “You’re a pretty good kisser yourself.”

  Pleasure flooded my veins. I planted a light kiss on her temple when she moved beside me to slide the vegetables into the pan. “Does that mean there will be more kissing in our future?” I asked.

  She turned her head and rubbed her nose against mine. “You can count on it.”

  If her mother hadn’t been just outside the kitchen, I would have swept her into my arms like Fred Astaire with Ginger Roberts, but her inability to make eye contact with her mother after our kiss convinced me that caution was the better part of valor. I wanted to savor every sensation that came with touching her and the fear of intrusion wasn’t conducive to that kind of thing. I can be patient, I told myself. All good things to those who wait, right?

  We finished cooking and I scooped the food onto plates while Sara called her mother inside. The look of delight on their faces when they took their first bites made me glow with pride.

  “My goodness, Travis, where did you learn to cook like this?” Mrs. Matthews asked, wiping daintily at her mouth with one of the cloth napkins Sara had set on the table.

  “TV, mostly,” I said with a grin. “My parents aren’t always home for dinner so I started cooking for myself years ago. I really enjoyed it and started watching some cooking shows to figure out more ways to use up what we had in the house, and my parents really enjoy it when I cook for them, so I’ve just kept on doing it.”

  Sara was watching me with a curious look while she chewed. Assessing my interactions with her mother, maybe? I winked at her when her mom looked away and Sara bit back a smile.

  “Well, you’re a very talented young man,” Mrs. Matthews told me. “Sara’s not a bad cook herself, but she usually chooses pasta on nights when she’s making dinner!”

  “Nothing wrong with pasta,” Sara grumbled. “Way to show me up, Holmes.”

  I laughed, my heart light. This was going much better than I could have hoped. Then her mother asked, “So how did you two meet?” I felt the deer in the headlights expression descend over my features; there were some things I did not want to discuss at the moment and that was one of them.

  “At the store,” Sara said quickly, drawing her mother’s gaze long enough for me to recover. “Travis just moved here a few weeks ago and needed some books for school.”

  I let out my breath slowly, forcing a polite smile. “I see,” Mrs. Matthews said, smiling back. “Are you a senior as well, Travis?”

  “Yes ma’am,” I replied. She was studying me with eyes so like Sara’s, seeing far more than I was actually voicing. I wondered if she wanted to ask more questions—if I knew Nelson, if I’d heard about the accident, if I was aware of the town’s general attitude toward Sara—but in the end, she only smiled serenely and finished her meal.

  “Thank you for the delicious meal, Travis,” she said kindly, rising from the table. “It’s so nice to have someone else do the cooking.” She winked at Sara as she said it and Sara rolled her eyes. “I have some errands to run this afternoon, if you two will excuse me?”

  Sara’s cheeks pinkened but she replied smoothly, “Of course, Mom. Glad you’re back.”

  Mrs. Matthews kissed the top of Sara’s head, squeezed my shoulder, and closed the front door behind her with a definitive click.

  I caught Sara’s gaze and heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Thank God that’s over!”

  She snickered. “Well, I think we can safely say she adores you,” she replied, looking rather pleased by that fact.

  “What do you think sealed it, the tofu or my unfailing politeness?” I asked, rising from the table to clear our plates. Sara joined me at the sink.

  “I don’t know if a teenage boy has ever called her ‘ma’am,’ so I’m going with your stellar manners, followed closely by the tofu,” she said with a grin. “You’re a parent’s dream.”

  I laughed but remembered thinking the same about Nelson when he was around my parents. Nudging her with my hip, I asked, “Will she change her mind when she finds out I’m friends with Nelson?”

  The smile slipped from her face. “She loves Nelson, Travis. He spent most of his weekends in our guest room when we were in middle school. I think she’s missed him as much as I have.”

  I cupped her cheek in my hand and a hint of a smile reappeared on her lips. “Then I’m glad he’ll be coming back into your lives,” I said softly.

  “It doesn’t feel real yet. I haven’t even seen him around town in months
.” Her eyes were troubled.

  I didn’t want to rush her, so I asked gently, “When do you want to meet up with him?”

  Sara sighed, bowing her head. I could see her shoulders tensing with anxiety and wanted to rub away her worries. “I don’t mean to sound like a total wimp,” she said finally, meeting my eyes, “but I would really like to enjoy the rest of the day with you. Tomorrow is my calc class, so . . . Tuesday after school?”

  I offered a reassuring smile. “You’re the boss,” I quipped, composing a quick text and grinning more broadly when I imagined his face upon receiving it.

  A finger poked me sharply in the ribs. “Don’t enjoy this too much, Holmes,” Sara warned. “You may think you’re hot stuff for orchestrating this grand reunion, but it’s just as likely to blow up in your face as it is to succeed!”

  I couldn’t have held back my smile even if she’d been wielding something more deadly than her cute little hands. “Aw, c’mon. Let me enjoy my breakthroughs, would you? Besides, I’m more psyched to hear you admit you want to spend the rest of the day with me,” I replied with a wink.

  She laughed, the tension leaving her shoulders. “Well then,” she said, “I guess we’ve got some time to kill, hot shot.”

  My mind flew in a hundred inappropriate directions and I knew from her blush that Sara found me as transparent as ever, but she grinned. “Come with me,” she instructed, heading out the French doors to the back yard. I followed meekly behind her.

  The yard was even more exquisite than it had appeared through the glass; the beautifully landscaped yard stretched down a gentle slope toward the back fence. Garden beds lined one side of the yard and even without any botanical knowledge, I could tell that this was a labor of love. “Does your mom do all this?” I asked.

  Sara nodded, surveying the yard. “She loves it out here. I think this is her refuge, the way the creek is mine,” she replied.

  The sun was nearly overhead and the day had warmed enough that Sara left her sweatshirt inside, a fact for which I was extremely grateful. The delicate glow of her skin in the sunlight was mesmerizing. I must’ve stared just slightly too long, because she laughed and elbowed me in the side. “Sorry,” I mumbled immediately, meeting her eyes with a sheepish grin. “You’re just stunning.”

  Her cheeks grew as pink as her tank top, but she held my gaze steadily. “I think maybe you have strange taste,” she retorted, but I could see the pleasure my compliment gave her and resolved to make sure she knew just how beautiful she was, now and in the future.

  I shook my head slowly, reaching up to cup her face in my hand. I ran my thumb across her cheekbone and waited, feeling an infinite patience spread through me. I had no desire to rush her, to race toward whatever the future held for us. Just being close to her made me feel as if some missing part of me had been found and returned to its rightful place.

  She lifted her hand to cover mine. “Travis,” she said softly.

  “Sara,” I whispered back, leaning so close that our lips were nearly touching.

  I felt more than saw her lips curve into a smile and she cocked an eyebrow as her other hand moved to my shoulder. “Are we just going to stand here like this, or are you going to kiss me?” she asked finally.

  I obliged, not needing to be asked twice. Her skin was like silk under my fingers, her lips soft and warm and utterly captivating. I wasn’t the most experienced kisser, I knew, but we went slowly, learning each other with a gentle caution that seemed to suit us both perfectly. I followed her lead, sliding my free hand to her waist as hers moved from my shoulder to tangle in my hair as she tugged me closer still. This kiss was intoxicating; the softness of her lips against mine and the warmth of her skin beneath my hand had me tumbling helplessly toward something I’d never felt before.

  When it ended, we were both breathless and bewildered, staring into each other’s eyes. I dropped my forehead against hers and she closed her eyes briefly as she caught her breath. When she opened them again, I kissed the tip of her nose and took her hands in mine. I felt like I should say something but couldn’t find words worthy of following up a moment like that.

  She saved me the trouble, tugging me toward the corner of the yard that was home to a giant weeping willow. As we brushed past the curtain of branches, I saw an old wooden swing hanging on sturdy ropes from the tree. Though the spot wasn’t completely concealed from the rest of the yard, it felt cozy, like a little nest far removed from the world. Sara gave me an inquiring look and I grinned. “Let me guess,” I mused. “Another favorite spot of yours?”

  “One of my secret hideouts,” she confided, smiling up at the tree that sheltered us from view. “I used to spend most afternoons up in this tree or on the swing. My dad and Nelson would play catch in the yard and I would pretend to spy on them from in here. Once Nelson was even lucky enough to get an invitation to join me here for a tree picnic,” she said with a mischievous grin.

  “A tree picnic?” I asked curiously, looking up at the gnarled branches overhead.

  “I think he thought he was going to get to climb the tree with me, but I waited until he had just started to climb and threw food at him,” she admitted, eyes twinkling.

  I laughed. “Poor sucker!” I said. “Maybe that’s why he’s so caught up on food, you scarred him for life!”

  Sara grinned back, reminiscing, and released my hand so she could sit on the swing. She leaned back, swinging slowly toward me. Her hair trailed almost to the grass below, shimmering a deeper red in the shade beneath the tree. I moved behind her as she sat upright again and gave the swing a gentle push. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled, an expression so sweet it took my breath away. I wished I’d brought my camera with me but settled for etching this moment into my memory.

  After a few minutes, she hopped gracefully off the swing and gave me an inquiring look. “So,” she said.

  I raised a brow. “So,” I replied, steadying the swing before moving toward her. Something in those blue-green eyes sparkled with intent and I set my hands on the curve of her hips. She lifted her head as though to kiss me again but stopped short an inch from my face, pulling back slightly.

  “Is this weird?” she asked, brow furrowed. God, she was adorable.

  “This . . .” I repeated, trailing off in confusion.

  She gestured vaguely between us. “This,” she said again. “I mean . . . I told you before, I don’t really date. Is it normal to be kissing you already?”

  I couldn’t hold back a grin. “I’m not sure normal applies to us,” I said slowly, reaching up to smooth the troubled expression from her brow. “I haven’t really dated much either,” I admitted, “but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, as long as we’re not moving too fast for you.”

  She looked somewhat reassured. “I don’t want you to think I’m a floozy or something,” she said, and I laughed aloud, causing her to poke me in the chest. “I’m serious. Kissing you feels . . . right. But I don’t know that I’m ready for more than that, and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

  I kissed her cheek, one and then the other, then the tip of her nose. “Sara, sweetheart, I’m not rushing toward anything, I hope you know that,” I said gently. “We don’t have to do anything more than kiss and I will be staggeringly happy with that, okay? I really, really like kissing you, though, so I hope we don’t have to stop that?”

  She laughed. “No, kissing is good. I just didn’t want you to think I’m misleading you.”

  I shook my head firmly, determined to nip this in the bud. “I’m not that kind of guy, Sara. I’m not expecting anything and I would never, ever want you to do something you weren’t ready for just because you think I am. Got it?”

  “Yes, chef,” she replied with a salute, and I laughed. “Well then, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to kiss me again,” she said.

  Never one to shirk my duty, I very happily obliged.

  CHAPTER 10: Monday

  I felt like a sleepwalker all
through school on Monday, my head in the clouds. The remainder of Sunday had been nearly euphoric; the hours passed at lightspeed until Mrs. Matthews arrived home with dinner. I begged off, not wanting to risk my luck intruding on a second family meal in one day, snuck in a goodbye kiss when Sara walked me to the car, and headed home to reflect on all that had transpired. My parents had gone out and I ignored half a dozen texts from Nelson for a while, content to sprawl on the couch and reminisce about the silken feel of Sara’s hair against my face as we kissed.

  Eventually, I caved and checked my phone, chuckling at Nelson’s shocked, emphatic agreement to meeting with Sara on Tuesday and rolling my eyes at his insinuations when I didn’t respond throughout the afternoon. I shot back a brief message that we’d meet Sara at the bookstore on Tuesday after school, told him to get his mind out of the gutter, and warned him that I wouldn’t say another word about it until lunch on Monday.

  Lunch was fast approaching now and I wondered what the hell I’d say to Nelson. “Hey man, that girl who was like a sister to you has the sweetest lips I’ve ever tasted.” I somehow doubted that would go over well, and I clung to those memories like a lifeline—I had no intention of sharing them with Nelson. I wanted to prepare for whatever questions he might throw my way, but my mind was so caught up in reliving every moment of Sunday afternoon that I had no spare brain cells to dedicate to Nelson.

  I had to pull it together to get through Calculus just before my lunch period. I followed along with what I thought was admirable success, especially since Mr. Hall appeared slightly dazed after his weekend of camping. I wondered now if “camping” was code for “girlfriend,” given the state of my own scattered thoughts, but I suspected he wouldn’t appreciate any inquiries on that front.

  Just before the bell rang, a blonde girl named Bianca—one of the queen bees at this school, I’d gathered—passed a note my way. In my distraction, I’d forgotten how fast gossip could travel. As I opened the folded piece of paper, tossed onto my desk by a girl whose name I couldn’t remember, Mr. Hall’s voice jerked through my foggy brain.