Chapter 5
The song dedicated to me was not the last.
Cole performed songs about heartbreak and hope, about small towns and big dreams, about his mother and his brother and the life he’d left behind. Between songs, he told stories that made the crowd laugh. He was charming. Talented. In his element.
And he kept looking at me.
Not the “scanning the crowd” look performers did. Direct eye contact. Smiles meant just for me. Once, during an upbeat number about a road trip, he winked.
I wanted to die. Also climb him like a tree. Both things seemed equally viable.
After the show, the same guy with the headset appeared at my elbow.
“He wants to see you backstage.”
“I know the drill.”
This time, the green room wasn’t empty. The drummer, a man who looked like a taller, broader version of Cole, sat on the couch, drumsticks twirling between his fingers. He looked up when I entered.
“You must be Autumn.”
“And you must be Decker.”
He stood, offered his hand. His grip was firm, calloused. Working hands. “Guilty. Heard a lot about you.”
“All lies, I’m sure.”
His grin was Cole’s grin, just slightly rougher around the edges. “Mostly about how you make my baby brother forget chords. That’s a hell of a first impression.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m messing with you. Cole’s been walking around like a lovesick puppy for two days. It’s adorable and slightly nauseating. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet you last time.”
Cole appeared in the doorway, his hair damp with sweat, his t-shirt clinging to his chest in ways that should be illegal. “Decker. Stop scaring her.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Liar.” Cole crossed the room, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me like his brother wasn’t watching. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.”
“You came.”
“You asked me to.”
His thumb traced my jaw. “You could’ve said no, but you didn’t.”
“I’m weak.”
“You’re perfect.” He kissed me again, deeper, and I forgot Decker existed.
Someone cleared their throat.
We broke apart. A woman stood in the doorway. In her mid-twenties, gorgeous in that effortless way some people managed, with long dark hair and a warm smile.
“Faith.” Cole’s voice was casual, relaxed. “Great job tonight.”
She stepped into the room, extending her hand to me. “Thanks. You must be Autumn. I’m Faith. Cole hasn’t shut up about you.”
I shook her hand, surprised by the genuine warmth. “Oh. Nice to meet you.”
She grabbed a water bottle from the mini-fridge and settled onto the couch. “Finally. I was starting to think he made you up. No offense, but he’s been acting like a lunatic.”
Cole groaned. “Faith.”
“What? You forgot the chords to ‘Backroads’. That never happens.”
Decker nodded. “It’s true. Very unlike you, baby brother.”
Faith’s smile was genuine, affectionate. “But seriously, Autumn, it’s good to meet you. I’m glad Cole found someone who makes him this happy. Lord knows he’s been a grump for the past six months.”
“Since the breakup,” Decker added helpfully.
Faith threw a bottle cap at him. “We agreed not to make it weird.”
“It’s only weird if we pretend it didn’t happen.”
Faith turned back to me. “Fair point. Just so you know, Cole and I are ancient history. We wanted different things. No hard feelings. I’m actually glad we can still work together without drama.”
“That’s… really mature.”
“We try.” Faith stood, stretching. “If you ever need someone to talk to about what it’s like dating a musician who’s gone all the time, I’m here. I know it’s weird coming from the ex, but I’ve been doing this long enough to know what helps.”
Something in my chest eased. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” She grabbed her bag. “I’m going to let you two have some privacy. But, Autumn? Come to Charlotte this weekend. It’ll be fun. See you later, lovebirds.”
She left, and the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying dissolved.
“She’s nice,” I said.
Cole pulled me close. “She is. I’m glad you two met. Faith’s family. And you’re…” He paused, searching for words. “You’re everything.”
“That’s a lot of pressure.”
He kissed my forehead. “Good pressure. Now, want to get out of here? I have a hotel room and plans that involve making you forget your own name.”
“That’s quite an offer.”
“I deliver on my promises.”
He did.
The hotel room was generic, with beige walls and a bed that dominated the space.
“I’m sweaty,” he said.
“I noticed.”
“Shower with me? This hotel has excellent water pressure. I tested it.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “Come on. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“That’s a big promise.”
“I’m very motivated.”
I was already stepping out of my jeans.
The shower was hot and perfect. Cole’s hands were hotter and more perfect. He washed my hair with hotel shampoo, his fingers massaging my scalp until I melted against him.
“You’re good.” I murmured.
“I’m good at lots of things.” His hands slid down my back, cupping my ass. “Want me to demonstrate?”
“Please.”
He spun me around, pressed me against the tile wall, and dropped to his knees.
“Cole…”
“Let me.” He looked up at me, water streaming down his face, his eyes dark with want. “Let me make you feel good.”
His mouth found me, and I stopped protesting.
He licked and sucked like it was his job, like he’d been thinking about it all night during the show, like making me come was the only thing that mattered.
I came twice before my legs gave out.
Cole caught me, turned off the water, and wrapped me in a towel.
“Bed,” he said.
“I can’t move.”
“Then I’ll carry you.”
He did. Again. Apparently carrying me was his new favorite hobby.
He laid me on the bed, dried me off with careful attention, his hands reverent.
“You’re staring again.”
“Can’t help it.” He traced the curve of my hip. “You’re art, Autumn. Every inch of you.”
“More lines.”
“It’s the truth.” He kissed every inch of me. “I could spend days just touching you. Learning you. I can’t get enough of you.”
“You have three days before you leave for Charlotte.”
His mouth paused against my skin. “I know.”
Reality crashed back in. Three days. Then he’d be gone.
“Hey.” He moved up my body, settling between my legs. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pull away. I can feel it.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know what this is.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “We’ve known each other for three days. You’re leaving. I’m staying. We live completely different lives. What are we doing?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, honest and raw. “But I know I think about you constantly. I know you make me laugh. I know sex has never felt like this—like connection, like something more than just getting off.”
“Cole.”
“I know three days isn’t enough.” His voice cracked. “I know when I leave for Charlotte, I’m going to miss you so much it hurts, and I know it scares the shit out of you.”
“It does.”
“Me, too.” He kissed me, soft and desperate. “But I’d rather have three days with you than nothing at all.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “I’m going to get attached.”
“I’m already attached.”
“You’re leaving.”
“Charlotte’s two hours away. I’ll come back.”
“You have shows. A tour. A life that doesn’t include staying in one place.”
“We'll figure it out.” His hands framed my face. “People do long distance all the time.”
“I’m terrible at long distance.” I stopped, swallowed hard. “I need touch. Presence. Someone who’s actually here.”
“Then I’ll be here. Between shows. Every chance I get.”
“That’s not sustainable.”
“Maybe not.” He kissed my forehead. “But I want to try. Don’t you?”
God help me, I did. “Yes.”
His smile could’ve lit up the whole city. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He kissed me, and the desperation melted into something softer. Sweeter. He made love to me slow and careful, like we had forever.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, his hand tracing lazy patterns on my back. “Tell me something real.”
“I’m scared this is going to hurt.”
“Me hurting you, or you getting hurt when I leave?”
“Both.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “I can’t promise it won’t hurt. But I can promise I’ll never intentionally hurt you. And I can promise that every moment we have is worth whatever pain comes later.”
“How are you so sure?”
“I’m not. But I’m willing to risk it.” He tilted my chin up, making me look at him. “Are you?”
I thought about my marriage. The betrayal. The years I’d spent building walls to keep people out, to keep myself safe.
I thought about Garbage in that kennel, barely alive, and how he’d chosen to keep fighting.
Sometimes the risk was worth it.
“Yes,” I replied.
Cole’s answering smile made me believe in second chances.
We made love again, slower this time, trading whispered confessions and promises we might not be able to keep.
At 2 AM, wrapped in hotel sheets and Cole’s arms, I let myself hope.
Maybe this could work.
Maybe three days could turn into more.
Maybe I wasn’t too broken to be loved.
I woke up alone with a note on the pillow.
Breakfast run. Back in 10. Don’t leave. -C
I relaxed, reaching for my phone. Seven messages from Brynn, three from Jess, one from Eli.
Brynn: Did you die? You’re not dead, right? If you’re dead, I’m going to be SO MAD.
Brynn: AUTUMN MARIE. ANSWER YOUR PHONE.
Jess: Brynn’s spiraling. Can you please confirm you’re alive?
Eli: The rescue’s on fire. Metaphorically. Call me.
I called Eli.
“You’re alive!” he cried. “Thank God. Brynn was about to file a missing person’s report.”
“It’s been twelve hours.”
“She’s dramatic. Also invested in your love life. How was the night?”
“Good. Complicated. I’m still processing.”
“Well process faster because we have a problem. The BluePaw Foundation grant moved the site visit up to today. We’ve got six hours.”
My stomach dropped. “What the actual…?”
“I know, and the place is a disaster. Luna’s kennel still smells like pee. The puppy room looks like a tornado hit it, and Garbage somehow got into the office and knocked over an entire filing cabinet.”
“How did he…never mind. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“You’re at the hotel?”
“Eli…”