Chapter 2
TWO
EVE
Saving my craft supplies from a wily older neighbor less than five minutes after my boyfriend broke up with me isn’t how I pictured today going, but here I am.
“See?” She taps the writing on the box again when I’m too stunned to speak. “Free.”
“And I’m telling you it’s not.” I huff. “These are my things.”
I rescue the box by edging it behind me, then hold out my hand expectantly. The stubborn woman clutches the glue gun closer. For a moment, I debate how far I’ll go to fend her off.
Thankfully, she plops it in my palm with a grumble, saving me from becoming hot Heston Lake gossip for tackling the elderly like a completely unhinged lunatic.
“Should’ve taken it earlier,” she mutters. “Lucky you came when you did.”
“Um, right.”
With one last dour glance between me and the box I’m guarding, she toddles back to her apartment. Well, happy freaking holidays to her, too. I blink away my astonishment and throw a glare at Shawn’s door.
I wanted to talk to him. He’s definitely home. His car is parked outside.
Forget it. I just want to get out of here.
The situation is still hitting me as I put the glue gun back in the box, then skim the message he had locked and loaded to send me one more time. I don’t bother answering it.
Instead, I dig out my key and chuck it at his door, gratified by the thunk. There are muted noises inside, as if he came to investigate. The door doesn’t open. I narrow my eyes at his peephole.
Coward. Ugh, I shouldn’t be shocked after he broke up with me through a text.
This is officially a new low for me. I can’t believe him. What a fucking jerk.
We’ve been dating on and off since we met in college, but somehow we keep finding excuses to get back together. The last time we broke up after a fight, I at least had the decency to tell him to his face that I was done.
After this stunt, I’ll never cave to his middle of the night sweet talk about missing me again.
No dick is ever worth the inevitable heartache, and Shawn has brought me way more of that than he has orgasms.
I purse my lips, working to keep my breathing even.
It becomes difficult as all his little criticisms hit me at once.
Being with him used to be fun, but since we got back together all he does is rag on me for countless little things like how forgetful I can be, or when I struggle to manage my time, or how I’m incapable of sticking to a regular routine.
Those shortcomings are because my brain doesn’t work the same way as most people’s. I didn’t understand why until I was diagnosed with ADHD. Rather than listening to me, he’s been impatient whenever I hold us up.
My eyes sting as my vision blurs.
Shit. I won’t cry over him outside his damn apartment. I refuse. Especially if he’s still lurking to watch through the peephole. No way in hell will I give him the show he must be waiting for.
Screw this and screw him.
With a shaky breath, I swallow to ease the lump constricting my throat, give his peephole the finger, and take the stairs to leave with my box.
I’m so focused on getting away once I’m outside, I can’t appreciate the satisfying crunch of brittle orange and yellow leaves dotting the brick walkway when I step on them. I keep my head down until I slam into something solid.
A wall of muscle stops me in my tracks.
Cheeks heating, I gasp, trying to keep my balance without dropping my best craft supplies.
Despite my determination to plow my way right through town to the safety of my own space before shedding a single tear over Shawn…turns out I can’t, in fact, go through physical objects.
The guy grunts at our collision, steadying me with large hands and a strong grip. Wow, he smells good. It’s my first thought as the crisp breeze winds the spicy, warmth-infused scent around me. It’s a welcome distraction for a second until I get my bearings.
“Whoa, hang on,” he says in an amused tone that makes my stomach twist in a nice way. “I’ve got you. Where’s the fire?”
“Sorry about that,” I stammer. “I was, um. In a rush.”
God, the last thing I need right now is for anyone in town to see me like this.
My head threatens to spin right off my shoulders from the overwhelming last fifteen minutes of my life.
Without fail, the end of the year is a sure sign everything I’ve managed to hold together up to this point is about to fall apart.
“I think I got that from your attempted hit and run. Maybe we should exchange insurance information.”
He chuckles. I freeze, struck by the familiar sense of nostalgia that almost knocks me on my ass right there on the autumn leaf-speckled grass.
I know that laugh. Lifting my gaze, I confirm I’m in Cole Kincaid’s arms.
Did I trip, hit my head, and slip into one of the fantasies of my seventeen year old self?
“Eve.” His brows lift in recognition. “Hey. Good to see you.”
His gaze passes over me, pausing at my earrings. The translucent sparkly pink resin heart lollipops are tamer than some of my quirkier ones I’ve made, like the dinosaur chicken nuggets, miniature potted houseplants, and rainbows with cute little faces.
My heart skips a beat under the full weight of his attention. His dark brown hair is as thick and tousled as always, slightly longer on top than he used to wear it. The corners of his warm green eyes crinkle with his handsome smile.
Too many responses crowd my thoughts at once. He drops his hands from my waist and steps back. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize my brother’s best friend immediately, though I’m not exactly thinking straight.
“I didn’t know you were visiting,” I say. “It’s been a while.”
The last time I saw him, he was the best man in Benson’s destination wedding three years ago. He only visited one or two other times before that. When he went to college, his family moved out west to be near him. The only thing left for him in Heston Lake is his friendship with my brother.
“Not just visiting. I’m back.” His relaxed, uneven grin widens at my confused expression. He inclines his head. “For now at least. I don’t usually stick in one spot for long.”
“Back,” I echo. “Didn’t your family sell the house when they moved to be closer to you?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of weird to be here but not living there.
” He pushes a hand through his hair, casting his gaze down the street before nodding to a nearby house at the end of the block.
“I’m renting. Remember Mrs. Carter’s place?
With the cat we all liked to pet on the way to school?
Now it’s a duplex. I was lucky they offered me a month-to-month lease. ”
It was renovated into apartments like many of the other historic homes in town to save them from demolition and preserve our sleepy college town’s charm.
Most of them are filled with Heston University students that don’t want to live on campus.
A few older properties have become vacation rentals for the autumn and summer tourists.
“Yes, I went to the estate sale. Scored a whole basket of good yarn.”
The edge of his mouth lifts. He studies me for a beat, smile falling as his brows crease with concern.
“Are you okay? You look like you might—Want me to carry that for you?”
I clutch the box, not in the mood to explain what I’m carrying or why. Hopefully it’s not written all over my face that I was as easy for my boyfriend to throw out as this box he chucked out the door.
Crying in front of him would be way worse than Shawn seeing me upset. The last time he saw me shed tears over a boy who toyed with my heart, he found Benny and the pair of them beat the guy up. It wasn’t until after they both graduated two years ahead of me that any guys dared asking me out again.
“I’m good. I’d better go, actually.” I speak quickly, moving past him.
“You sure?”
“Super sure.” I pause to turn. “Welcome back, Cole.”
He gives me another one of his signature heart-stopping smiles. “Thanks. See you later, Evie.”
My breath catches. I haven’t heard that nickname in years.
Cole is the only one that’s ever called me that. I might be turning twenty-five soon, but being around him always makes me feel like a teenager again.
My brain short-circuits, attempting to respond with two different things at once. “Glad to touch you later. I mean, thanks, you too.”
Immediately, I cringe. Shit. I was trying to say I’d touch base with him later while also trying to say I was glad he was back.
Okay, it’s fine. Just—breathe. That happened, and I have to accept it. He probably didn’t notice even though I did.
More than ready to be out of there for the wicked breakdown I’m on the verge of, I duck my head and hurry down the street so I can do it in private.
This is just fantastic. Dumped and bumping, literally, into the guy I crushed on in high school in the same day. Mondays really suck.
It should’ve occurred to me Cole was serious about seeing me later when I drag myself down to the main house for dinner a few hours later and find him leaning against the kitchen counter.
The sight of him sends me back about nine years, before he left for college and was a regular fixture at our place.
It’s hard to believe. Long stretches of time often feel like nothing at all to me.
I blink, just in case this is some overstimulation-induced hallucination.
Nope, still there. Accepting a beer from Dad.
I feel a little more grounded after a tiny mental breakdown and a shower, but I’m not prepared to face him so soon after our run-in. My fingers curl in the cozy oversized sweater I bundled myself in, needing every form of comfort. It says happy fall y’all and has leaves embroidered on the cuffs.
“Hey, sweetie. Help me out and bring the potatoes to the table.” Mom wipes her hands on a bright red dish towel covered in a snowflake pattern.
It’s just the beginning. Soon every inch of this house will be covered in seasonal decor. This year I’ve actually convinced her to hold off until after Thanksgiving to give fall—and me—a minute to breathe.