The Edge of Autumn Page 9

  Chai, I repeated to myself, determined to remember that. Anything that could bring that expression to her face was well worth noting.

  I took a sip and closed my own eyes. “Holy crap, that’s good!” I exclaimed.

  She laughed, leaning her head back on my arm. “You’ve passed the test, Mr. Holmes. You are, in fact, perfect for me.”

  Despite the lightness of her tone, I thought I heard an undercurrent of something more and kissed her temple. “It took you this long to figure that out?” I asked.

  “Hmm,” she mused softly. “No, you’re right. It’s the long hair that ensnared me. Everything else is just icing.”

  “Phew,” I said, breathing a sigh of mock relief. “Here I thought it was my unfailing politeness and wealth of musical knowledge.”

  Sara grinned and kissed me, the sweet taste of spiced tea on our lips. She snuggled against my side, her head resting on my shoulder. “You’ve got me there,” she said softly. “You have a great many admirable qualities, I must admit.”

  Not one to fish for compliments, I nuzzled her ear. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I drawled. The giggle that escaped her filled me with warmth.

  Over the course of the morning, I determined that this was the precise definition of “canoodling.” I resolved to make her giggle as much as possible, reveling in the sweet sound as much as I reveled in the taste of her lips and the softness of her skin. Our bubble of happiness was still intact, surrounding the house with a sense of peace. I felt like nothing could break past it.

  Nothing except our dear friend Nelson.

  My phone buzzed just after we finished the hummus wraps we’d made for lunch. Nelson, clearly not busy at work on his projects, sent me a text saying, Hey man, ask her about the Apple Festival.

  I groaned as I read it and Sara lifted one copper brow. “Should I ask?”

  “Probably not,” I grumbled. “Stupid Nelson.”

  Sara snorted. “Let me guess. It’s about the dance?”

  I stared at her in surprise. Her expression was amused rather than annoyed. I took that as a good sign. “You got it,” I said, studying her carefully for further reaction.

  She rolled her eyes. “Good old Nelson. It’s not enough to take on the town gossips to repair my social standing, he wants me to attend an actual school function?” She paused. “Do you want me to go?”

  If ever I had felt like a deer in the headlights, this topped the charts. “Ah . . . well. If you wanted to go, I wouldn’t turn down the chance to dance with you in public.” The thought of holding her close and whispering lascivious things into her ear in the middle of the dance floor was awfully tempting. I forced the image away, took her hand and regarded her earnestly. “But I wouldn’t ask you to do that just for me, Sara. School social functions have never really been a priority for me and that hasn’t changed.”

  She squeezed my hand lightly and turned a pensive gaze toward the window. I was shocked that she seemed to be considering it; maybe I was misinterpreting, though, and she was simply considering how to shoot Nelson down without hurting their newly rekindled friendship. When she finally looked at me again, her expression was conflicted. “It’s one thing knowing everyone has been talking about me. It feels like actually listening to it might be a little much.”

  I thought I heard a twinge of sadness in her voice. “Hey,” I said gently, stroking her cheek with my free hand. “Screw them, right?” That pulled a tiny smile from her and I took it as a good sign. “If you want to dance with me under these godawful apple decorations I got conned into painting all week, then I will move heaven and earth to make it happen, even if it means laying the smackdown on half of the senior class.”

  This time, she grinned. “Well, if I end up drenched in pig blood, I’m blaming Nelson.”

  “Ha! I’ll tell him that,” I said, kissing her quickly before firing off a response to Nelson. I pocketed my phone and cocked my head at Sara. “So does this mean you’re going to get all gussied up?”

  She batted her lashes at me with a coy smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

  Oh, man. I closed my eyes, picturing her in a glittering strapless evening gown, her hair piled high in curling tendrils or hanging down her back in lush ringlets. The dance was technically a semi-formal—I had no idea what that meant, except that it was supposedly less fancy than prom—but from the chatter I’d overheard at school this week, the girls wore whatever the hell they wanted. Some of the Bianca crowd had talked about going up to Syracuse to hit some high-end dress shop with stuff that cost more than I could possibly imagine spending on an article of clothing. Nelson had not-so-subtly hinted that guys didn’t need to wear a tux, telling me that he planned on a shirt and tie with a nice pair of pants. I had rolled my eyes and ignored him.

  When I forced myself back to the present and opened my eyes, Sara’s blue gaze danced with suppressed laughter. “Well, how did I look?” she asked pointedly.

  I groaned. “Insanely gorgeous,” I answered, “not that you ever don’t look that way to me.”

  She blushed and I added another mental tally mark to my list of successful compliments. Something about the way that particular shade of pink highlighted her fair skin set my nerves alight. After a moment, she cleared her throat and said, “If you buy me a corsage, I’ll punch you right in the face.”

  I was smart enough not to doubt her, though I laughed at the image of her little fist smashing into my nose. “Are you sure you can reach?” I joked, ducking when her hand flew just inches from my face. “Hey, careful!” I said. “What if you ruined my pretty face?”

  “I’m only dating you for your fabulous hair, Travis Holmes. A ruined face wouldn’t mean anything,” she said with mock solemnity.

  “Ooh, you’re harsh,” I retorted, flipping my hair over my shoulder dramatically.

  We both broke out laughing at the same time. This, I thought as I tugged her onto my lap amidst the flood of giggles, this is what it’s all about. She rubbed her nose against mine and tangled her fingers in my hair, the grin on her face so full of joy that my heart felt close to bursting. “You, Travis Holmes, are just what I needed,” she said softly, her eyes bright with emotion. “I don’t know what celestial power brought you to this godforsaken town, but I’m sure as hell glad it did.”

  I kissed her lightly. “The feeling is mutual, toots,” I whispered back.

  The afternoon passed in much the same way, blissfully uninterrupted by the outside world. Though she would be spending Sunday with her mom until it was time for dinner at my house, Sara wrote down a short list of locations where she thought I might be able to take some portfolio-worthy shots if I had time to kill—which, of course, I would. I didn’t bring up the dance again, though dreamlike images of twirling her around the dance floor under those stupid decorations floated frequently through my mind. I tried to remind myself that this was real life, touched by real tragedy and real drama, but part of me sincerely hoped for that classic eighties movie resolution for Sara’s sake. She deserved a happy ending to all of this. Selfishly, I hoped I could be the one to give it to her.

  When Sara’s mom texted her saying she was closing up the store and heading home, I took my leave. Sara walked me to the door; the look in her eyes as we said goodbye was so alluring that one goodnight kiss turned into another, and then another. When we reluctantly broke apart, she cupped my face in her hands and stared hard into my eyes. “You,” she said softly, “are like a drug.”

  I laughed, a bit breathless, and squeezed her waist lightly. “Christ, Sara,” I muttered back. “If anyone’s addicted here, it’s me.”

  Her response was a low hum that sent a streak of heat through me. At the sound of a car door outside, though, we broke apart and I winked at her before slipping out the door. She watched from the doorway, one hip propped against the frame, as I politely greeted her mother and bid her goodnight before hopping into my car. I offered a jaunty
salute as I pulled away from the house and caught one last glimpse of her smiling face before I forced my gaze to the road.

  I couldn’t focus my thoughts quite so easily, though. The dance was next Friday night and as enticing as seeing Sara all dolled up might be, I couldn’t deny the ball of nervous energy that settled in the pit of my stomach. Dinner with my parents seemed like small beans compared to facing the entire school, in person, at the dance. I reminded myself that none of us would be facing this alone; Nelson wasn’t a friendless outcast by any means, so surely we’d have some allies.

  And if it all went up in flames, I would be there to shield Sara from whatever came her way.

  CHAPTER 14: Sunday

  Nelson came by on Sunday morning to pick me up; apparently he actually had managed to finish his schoolwork late Saturday night. I had ignored his more inappropriate texts, inquiring about my day with Sara, and simply asked if he was interested hauling my ass around town to take photos today. I wasn’t willing to spend the day listening to my parents’ teasing remarks leading up to dinner. The meal itself would be more than enough humiliation, I was sure. I wondered if my mom was planning to pull out baby photos, then decided I didn’t want to know.

  I handed Nelson the list Sara had written out for me as I slid into the passenger seat of his truly hideous old Toyota. It was the very definition of a “beater,” made up of a variety of faded replacement parts that didn’t quite match. He was inordinately proud of the little car, which he affectionately referred to as “Darlene.” My legs had to bend at an awkward angle in order to fit inside; I wondered how he could possibly be comfortable cramming his extra few inches of height into the driver’s seat, but he never complained.

  He glanced over the list and nodded. “She’s got an eye for beauty, our little Sara,” he said, giving me a pointed look.

  I batted my eyes at him. “Are you calling me beautiful, Nelson? You’ll make a boy blush!” I joked.

  He barked out a laugh as he put the car into drive. “God, you sound just like her. You two are sickening. It’s like you were made for each other.”

  That made me smile with true pleasure. Sara and I had discovered a deep appreciation for one another’s sense of humor, which meant we’d spent more time laughing together yesterday than making out, but that was fine with me. I didn’t want a purely physical relationship, though I couldn’t deny enjoying that side of things. Making her laugh, loosening her grip on the protective shell she’d been living in, that was what I took the greatest pleasure in.

  Nelson snorted, as though he could hear my thoughts on the subject. “I’ll admit, bro, I didn’t think you had a snowball’s chance in hell at actually getting her to like you,” he said as he signalled the turn toward the edge of town. “No offense.”

  I smiled, a bit smug. Hell, I thought, even I hadn’t expected to have a chance with her! I watched as the colorful houses of Oakville grew sparse and the landscape turned to forest along the roadside. “None taken,” I retorted.

  “So,” he continued in a conversational tone. “Ignoring whatever it was you two were doing that was so important you couldn’t deign to reply to my texts, how you managed to convince her to come to the dance . . . that’s what I want to hear about!”

  I wasn’t entirely sure that I had convinced her, in truth. “I told her I wouldn’t ask her to do anything that she wasn’t comfortable with,” I replied with a shrug.

  Nelson’s laughter turned to a coughing fit that had me gripping the dashboard, praying that we weren’t about to go careening into a tree. “Oh my God, Travis,” he gasped when the coughing had stopped.

  I had to laugh. “She made the decision, dude. I sure as hell don’t want her blaming me if the whole thing fails miserably! I wasn’t about the make that call for her.” Though I didn’t want to admit it to Nelson, I hadn’t been entirely sure I even wanted her to say yes. I was just tired of doing what seemed the safest bet and looked forward to doing something because we both wanted it. Even if the entire school spent the night shooting daggers at us, I was fairly certain that we would be able to ignore them and enjoy holding each other close for the evening.

  We lapsed into companionable silence, punctuated here and there by Nelson pointing out landmarks I hadn’t seen yet. Sara’s list would take more than just one day to complete, she had warned me, but I was determined to make the best of it. Killing time before dinner was just a bonus.

  The first stop involved half an hour of traipsing through the woods, though I sent up a silent prayer of thanks that this path was paved, at least. Remembering the sway of Sara’s hips as she’d led me to the creek resulted in a goofy, dreamy smile that made Nelson roll his eyes when he glanced over at me. I coughed and tried to school my features better.

  When we reached our destination, I couldn’t hold back a grin. Nelson had been spot on in saying that Sara had an eye for beauty. The narrow waterfall, tumbling musically down the rocks, was breathtaking, especially accented as it was by autumn foliage on either side. Nelson stretched out under a tree near the path to stay out of my way as I snapped photo after photo. I captured the reflection of russet leaves in the dark pool below the waterfall, thinking it matched the exact shade of one of Sara’s curls, caught between my admiring fingers.

  “How deep is this, do you know?” I asked Nelson, tossing a pebble into the water.

  Nelson waggled his eyebrows. “Wondering if you could bring Sara skinnydipping up here?” he joked.

  I had been wondering exactly that, but I rolled my eyes at him and turned away to hide the flush rising in my face. “Just curious,” I retorted, biting back a grin at his guffaw.

  “Oh, definitely deep enough for that,” he mused. “I wouldn’t dive in head first, but you could . . . uh . . . swim.” He held up his fingers to make air quotes as he said it, winking at me.

  I snorted, turning back to him after snapping one last photo, a closeup of the rippling water. All joking aside, I absolutely planned to return here with Sara, in the interest of admiring natural beauty of all varieties. “Okay, okay, let’s get out of here before your mind gets lost in that gutter,” I said primly. Nelson laughed outright and stood, stretching his long limbs as he pulled himself off the ground.

  I kept my camera out as we made the hike back down the forested hillside, catching a few more interesting shots before we got to the car. We made three more stops before heading back to my house so I could shower before dinner. As we stared out over an incredible landscape view of the lake in the distance from the top of a spot he called Moonlight Bluff, I wondered aloud if Sara had come to all of these places with her parents and Nelson grew quiet for a moment before answering.

  “Some of them,” he said softly. “We used to have Sunday picnics before I went home again, and they brought us to a lot of these spots.” I had no response for that and kept silent, waiting for him to go on. “This was one of her mom’s favorites when we were little, but toward the end, her dad didn’t want to come up here much. It had become a local makeout spot and I think he got tired of bumping into his students,” he said, a grin lighting his face. “Sara and I were in maybe fifth grade the last time and Mr. Matthews, oh man. Some high school kids were up here playing strip poker and he had to break it up. I thought he was going to die laughing after they finally left. He had to at least try to sound authoritative, it was hysterical.”

  I laughed, picturing eleven-year-old Nelson and Sara stumbling upon teenagers in various states of undress. My smile faded. “I wish I could have met him,” I said quietly.

  Nelson’s grin remained. “Oh, man, he would’ve given you hell. Don’t get me wrong, he would’ve loved you, but he could be a hard ass when the situation called for it! The man knew how to deal with teenagers, that’s for damn sure.” He cocked his head at me. “How’s Mrs. Matthews?” he asked.

  My eyes widened. “She seems okay,” I said slowly, considering it. She was warm and welcoming and at least as perceptive as my mom, if not more so, but I knew that was
n’t what he meant.

  He nodded, content with that. “She’s an incredible lady. Sara is lucky to have her. I always felt like they had this epic romance, you know? It sounds stupid now, but coming from a single parent who didn’t really care what I was doing as long as I stayed out of trouble, they just had this classic TV show kind of appeal to me,” he said as he slid behind the wheel to take me home. “I’d never seen adults so obviously in love.”

  I chewed on that silently as we pulled back onto the road, contemplating what it would be like to grow up without the loving parents I had been blessed with. I felt almost guilty in my happiness and it must have shown on my face.

  “Travis,” Nelson said, his tone more serious than I’d ever heard out of him, “don’t even think about feeling bad for having awesome parents or being happy in life, all right? We all have to deal with what we’re given and with whatever curveballs life throws our way. I’m glad I had Sara’s family as a refuge, but I wouldn’t be who I am if I’d grown up differently.” He grinned. “And if you didn’t have your parents’ own epic love as an example to guide you, Sara probably would have told you to piss off the minute you walked into the bookstore.”

  He was right and I knew that. I pushed aside any remaining guilt, determined to appreciate everything I had in life: my parents, my upbringing, the friend I’d found in Nelson, Sara. Neither of us had mentioned the L word and I was almost hesitant to even think it, but whatever was between us, it was more than anything I’d felt before. Could you fall in love with someone you’d known for a week and a half? I might have doubted it in the past, but now I felt like it was far from impossible. I wondered what Sara felt on the subject but couldn’t imagine asking her without freaking her out or inserting a brick of awkwardness into the conversation.

  Nelson seemed to sense my train of thought and shot me a cheeky grin. “So,” he said casually, “what do you think she’ll wear to the dance? I can see the headlines now,” he teased. “‘Sara Matthews returns to Oakville society in cloud of taffeta!’” I rolled my eyes and laced my hands behind my head, smirking, but he wasn’t done. “Maybe silk,” he mused. “Or sequins? A tight, slinky black number?”