Chapter 37
thirty-seven
ZEKE
Zeke: Is Trey coming to the Founders’ Day thing?
Autumn: Yeah, and Dustin. Why?
Zeke: Is he gonna kick my ass?
Autumn: Maybe. But you might be able to outrun him.
Zeke: Might????
Autumn: I mean, this isn’t Will we’re talking about…
“Babe, the new place slaps.”
Autumn grins up at me as I drape an arm around her shoulders.
We’ve just left her shop’s new location on the west side of town and are making our way toward Main Street for the annual Hawthorne Bay Founders’ Day celebration.
It’s been a long ass morning of unpacking boxes and setting up racks, but we made a lot of progress.
And once the new location is up and running next week, Autumn will be officially free of that fuckwad Patrick Carroway.
Including her last name—which no, is not going to be Holloway. Not yet, anyway (although never say never). She’s changing it back to Westbrook. Her maiden name.
“You like it?” Autumn asks, slinking her arm around my waist. “It’s not as nice as the old place, and it’s on the far end of Main Street, but hey, I can afford it and it’s not owned by the Carroway clan.”
I wave a hand. “Fuck the Carroways and their dumbass building. You’re a designer. You’ll make the new place look dope.”
She laughs, nestling in closer to me as we walk. God, that coconut smell of hers. It’s intoxicating.
I’ve been working crazy hours since I started with Carter, and although I a) don’t hate the job like I thought I would and b) still somehow have the energy to give Autumn the mind blowing sex she deserves twice a day, it’s weird not being able to spend much time with her.
Which is why this weekend we’ve got solid plans to do nothing but bum around and chill.
We’re meeting up with Will and Lydia and the rest of our crowd at the Founders’ Day fair, and I think I’ve convinced Autumn to take a spin on the ferris wheel with me.
We might even smoke a little weed later and hit the lake.
Naked, of course. And just me and Autumn—not the others. Obviously.
“Zeke! Autumn!”
I break out into a grin before I even spot Benji in the crowd. I’d know that voice anywhere. We’re just reaching Main Street, and I see him standing up at one of the picnic tables lining the street, hands waving over his head to get us to see him.
They shut all of Main Street down for this gig, so there’s no traffic to watch for as we cross the street and head to where Benji is sitting.
The place is full of people coming and going, lingering outside of shop windows, laughing and shooting the shit.
I can hear the carnival rides in the background, the sound of kids getting spun and whirled and tossed into oblivion.
“Phoebe ditched me for some kids,” Benji says, getting to his feet and pounding me on the back. He’s got an ice cream cone in one hand, which he holds way out away from his body to keep from getting it in Autumn’s hair when he hugs her. “How’s it going? You guys gotten anything to eat yet?”
“Nah, we’ve been at Autumn’s store getting things set up for next week.”
I plop down across from Benji and pull Autumn down next to me.
Benji's dark eyes glow as they flit between us. I know he’s stoked for me—and relieved, probably—that I got my act together and went after Autumn.
He was kicking himself for not being around to answer my call that day I fucked up the fashion show, but, like I told him, it’s not his job to babysit me.
Obviously. That’s Will’s job.
Kidding!
“Oh, right.” Benji’s nodding emphatically, his doe eyes fixed on Autumn.
He’s got this way of really focusing when he talks to you, which makes you feel like you’re the star of the show.
“How’s the new place, Autumn? I heard you snagged a feature in Citrine magazine—that’s amazing. Seriously. Huge, huge congrats to you.”
“Thanks,” Autumn says, her freckled cheeks already turning pink. I can tell she’s still not used to her name and Citrine being said in the same sentence, but get used to it, baby girl. You’re on the way up. “It’s definitely exciting. And the new place is shaping up to look—”
“—super dope,” I cut in.
Benji shoots me a look that says he’s unimpressed with me interrupting a woman talking about her own business, but like—I can’t help it. I’m fucking proud, man.
Autumn elbows me, laughing. “Yes. Hella dope.”
Benji smiles and licks his ice cream cone. “You guys are cute.”
Just then, a huge hand slaps down on the picnic table. The whole thing wobbles as Will thunks himself down next to Benji and Lydia slides in after him.
“Hulk incomiiinnnggg!” I yell, reaching my fist across the table for Will to pound. He grimaces, but he returns the bump.
Lydia just laughs, lacing her fingers through Will’s other hand and tossing her hair. “Is Phoebe here? Will and I have been at the library book sale all morning, but I thought Phoebe said she was coming down, too.”
Benji nods. “Yeah, I was just telling Zeke and Autumn that she ditched me for some kids. The dad was having a hell of a time trying to wrangle them on the rides, and she went over to try and help. They’re over there at the cotton candy stand now.”
He gestures across the street with his chin.
Sure enough, there’s my sister, next to the food truck.
She’s got her hands full of cotton candy sticks, which she’s handing out to a small pack of rowdy-looking kids.
Leave it to Phoebe to get a bunch of brats whipped into shape without even knowing them. I feel bad for the kids.
“Huh,” Will muses. “Aren’t those Ethan’s kids?”
“Oh, duh,” Autumn says. “I thought they looked familiar!”
“Well, good for Phoebe,” Lydia says, inspecting her nails. We all know she’s got her reasons for not being Ethan’s biggest fan. “I hate to say it, but Ethan needs all the help he can get.”
Although I’ve never actually met Ethan Wilde, I’ve heard all about the dude since Will’s currently working for him, redoing the huge-ass colonial he owns out at Cutter’s Landing.
He’s probably the richest guy in town with all the privilege you could even imagine, but Autumn always says she feels bad for him.
I guess his wife died or something, and now he’s alone with four rambunctious kids.
But like… just hire a nanny. It’s not that hard, dude.
Suddenly, I spot two familiar faces on the other side of the street. I stand up, waving my arms. “Trey! Dustin! Over here.”
Through the crowds of people come Trey and Dustin, looking as polished and put together as ever, even on this hot-ass day in July that I’m pretty sure crawled out straight from the devil’s asshole.
Trey, who’s got on shiny mirrored aviators, flashes a grin and gives us a nod, letting us know they’re headed our way.
Dustin’s holding two paper plates of funnel cakes, and I hope to god he’s planning to share.
“Woohoo,” Trey cheers. “The gang’s all here!”
Lydia’s already on her feet, pushing another picnic table against ours to make room.
Dustin slides the funnel cakes into the center of the two tables and gestures for everyone to dig in.
The conversation soon splinters off into twos and threes.
Next to me, Autumn’s discussing her magazine feature with Lydia.
Will’s trying to get Benji to move here, and Trey and Dustin are making a grocery list, every once in a while backing Benji up in his arguments for staying in Boston.
More than once, I’ve felt eyes on me. I mean, you don’t run around getting chicks’ numbers and spend half your life absolutely perfecting your game, only to wake up completely oblivious one morning just because you found your person. Nah, I definitely notice when a girl has her eyes on me.
But I also don’t care. Like, let ‘em look. They may as well enjoy what they see, because that’s all they’re gonna get.
I am one hundred percent gone for Autumn, and that’s all I know.
Even sitting here now, next to her, my insides feel warm.
Like I’m glowing. I also can’t wait to fuck her against the wall when we get home. Show her all the ways I love her.
Eat your hearts out, girls of Hawthorne Bay.
Zeke Holloway’s a taken dude.
“Hey.”
Trey’s voice brings me back to the present. Autumn’s still deep in conversation with Lydia, and Dustin’s still siding with Benji against Will, who’s still on his get-out-of-Boston tirade—so Trey’s talking only to me. Which makes me just a tiny bit nervous.
I shove down my nervousness, flashing him a friendly grin. “Oh, hey, man. What’s up? How you been?”
“Pretty good,” Trey says. “Can’t complain. Listen…”
Shit. Here it comes. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop with Trey.
It’s no secret he wasn’t my biggest fan, and the past three weeks, I’ve just been waiting for him to call me up and tell me to keep my dick in my pants.
To let me know he’ll throttle me if I so much as step a single toe out of line.
I just didn’t think he’d do it here. Not in front of a bunch of people.
“I owe you an apology,” Trey continues. “And also a thank you.”
“Okay…”
I’m pretty sure my mouth just fell open, but I try hard to reel my surprise back in, keep a straight face. I still don’t know where this is going, and I don’t want to make a fool of myself.
“The apology is for thinking you were an asshole,” Trey says. “I mean—you were kind of an asshole, but you weren’t, like, an irredeemable asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t see that.”
That makes me laugh. “No problem, man. You don’t need to apologize for thinking someone’s an asshole.”
“Okay, well—even still.” Trey smiles. “But the more important thing I wanted to tell you is thank you—for being a good fucking man to Autumn. That shit isn’t a given, especially with what she’s been through. And you’re exceeding expectations.”
I quirk a playful eyebrow at him. “Is this the part where you tell me you’ll pluck my balls off one by one if I ever don’t meet those expectations?”
“It sure is.”