Autumn Nights

by Elle Viviani

  Please,

  Autumn

  Eight Years Ago

  Dear Bry,

  You made me a promise: to keep in touch when you left for boot camp. And I agreed, willingly and without hesitation. I knew the reality of you leaving my side for months, maybe years, was harsher than anything I could bear alone, and yet here I am, facing down that reality without my other half. My stronger, braver half.

  I’ve missed you every day. No, every second of every day. Not just because our friendship was deeper than any other I’ve ever known, but because I love being near you. Listening to you talk, laugh, joke around. And now you’ve thrown that away and there’s no going back.

  I’m not going to get over this. I’m not going to move on. You say you’re lonely and going through a lot, well so am I. But since you refuse to talk to me, I guess we’ll be lonely together.

  Goodbye,

  Autumn

  Chapter 17

  Bryce

  I’m sitting at the elegant wood bar in Clyde’s when a hand lands on my shoulder. My reverie is broken as I glance back and find a familiar face staring back at me. “About time, Woodruff, I’ve been wondering when you’d show up.”

  Chase laughs and slaps me on the back. “You know me. It’s good to see you again so soon, Hill. Two times in four months, right? I think we’ve beaten a record.”

  With his dark jeans, hunter-green flannel shirt, and gray suede high tops, Chase Woodruff looks like he should be sipping an espresso in some trendy Seattle coffeeshop instead of grabbing a beer at an upscale bar in Georgetown. It’s not until you look a little closer that you notice his sculptured musculature, thousand-dollar watch, close-cropped hair, and a general air of lethality. Then it all clicks into place.

  Special Forces. Washington, D.C. is crawling with them.

  “Looks like you let yourself go since I last saw you,” Chase says, eyeing my longish hair.

  “It’s called ‘growing it out’.” I slick it back with my hand before motioning to the empty seat next to me. “Wanna drink?”

  “Absolutely.” Chase loops a long leg over the leather-topped stool and lowers onto it, moving with the ease of a highly trained athlete. Which is exactly what he is.

  We met on a mission in Syria a few years back. Chase was part of the Air Force Special Tactics Force that paired up with our SEAL unit. If he hadn’t done some fancy air-ground communication from an alcove of rocks in the Syrian Desert as an enemy search party closed in on our location, well…let’s just say we wouldn’t be in this bar right now, ready to enjoy a stiff whiskey.

  “It suits you,” Chase says as he catches the bartender’s attention. “Goes with this whole bodyguard persona you’re embracing.”

  “Personal protection.”

  “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  I’m saved from wiping that smirk off his face by the arrival of the bartender. “Hi, honey, what can I get for you?”

  Chase gives the pretty brunette a cocky, lopsided grin. Her own smile deepens under its charm. “Rye, straight up.”

  “Any particular brand?”

  “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you choose.”

  She runs her dark-green eyes over my friend. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Huh,” I say, following the captivating sway of her hips as she moves away.

  Chase glances at me. “What?”

  “Didn’t know you were into bartenders.”

  “I’m not.” His fingers begin to pick at the paper napkin in front of him. “She reminds me of someone, I guess.”

  My eyes find her again. Long brown hair, graceful figure, eyes that look like polished emeralds. Makes me wonder what that girl he told me about looks like, the one that broke his heart two and a half years ago.

  The bartender saunters over, highball in hand, and sets it down on the lacquered bar. “Whistle Pig, small batch. I think you’ll like it.” Her long hair cascades over her shoulder as she tilts her head toward Chase. “I’ll check on you boys in a few.”

  I take a swig of my whiskey as Chase grabs his drink and swirls the amber liquid around the sparkling glass. “So what’s new since I was last here?” I had stopped in on my way back from Maine in July.

  “A lot, actually. I’ve been offered a promotion that will take me out West only to have a rather lucrative gig suddenly dangled in front of me. It’s in your new line of work. ‘Personal protection.’”

  “You’d leave the Air Force?”

  “You left the SEALs.”

  “That was different. I was weighing my options when Autumn asked for my help—uh, I mean, for a favor.”

  “Couldn’t say no?”

  “Didn’t want to.” I catch his skeptical look and roll my eyes. “Alright, no. I couldn’t.”

  He tilts his glass toward me. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “And you don’t?” I bite back. To my knowledge, Chase hadn’t dated since the breakup. He didn’t talk about her much, but I’d heard enough to know that the split gutted him.

  “Sorry,” I say, turning toward my friend. “I’ve been on edge because of this tour.”

  “It’s cool,” he mutters. “Anyway, I’ve pretty much crossed the job offer off my list. I think I was more interested in the money than the work. It was for this oil bigwig.”

  “Wait, if you don’t want this private job, then why aren’t you taking the promotion? I enjoy our stimulating conversations over damn fine whiskey, but man, what’s keeping you here?”

  Chase shoves his sleeves up to his elbows and leans his forearms against the bar. “You remember that my dad was in the Force, right? Well, I used to live in Colorado Springs and that’s exactly where this job’s taking me.”

  “What’s wrong with going home?”

  “Because it’s where I met my ex. We went to high school together.” He stops and takes another sip of rye. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay sane there.”

  I let out a heavy sigh and lean back. “I’m not the guy to give advice. I’ve made it a point to avoid home for almost a decade.”

  “Did it help?”

  “Nope.”

  A weary laugh leaves his lips. “And now you work for her. How’s that going, anyway?”

  Now it’s my turn to take a swig. “Besides watching her work herself to the bone? Sunshine and rainbows.”

  Chase lets out a low whistle. “Then how about I do you a favor? I’ll ask this oil guy if he’d be interested in a wimpy Squid instead of a Flyboy.”

  I hit his arm. “Calling me names isn’t going to help…Zoomie.”

  I get a punch on the shoulder, and then a “whatever.” Chase gives me a piercing look before adding, “What’s your answer? Make a fuckton of money, or stay with the girl you like?”

  “It’s not that simple—and liked doesn’t come close.”

  “I don't know about you," Chase begins slowly, "but acting like I'm cool with being just friends with a woman I like sounds like hell."

  "It is," I answer grimly.

  Chase tosses back the rest of his drink. "Well, the money’s unbeatable, but you’ll probably be bored out of your mind. CEO’s are not rockstars.”

  I turn to him. “You’re serious about passing me gig?"

  Chase shrugs. "I said I was thinking about it, don't get cocky. I've still got that promotion, remember?"

  I snort. “Right. The promotion you're going to pass up because of some girl from your past.”

  Chase rolls his eyes and shifts his gaze over my shoulder. “You’ve got one, too.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  "So what do you say?" Chase asks, his eyes roaming the packed bar. "Should I make a call?"

  I meant what I said back there—that liked doesn't come close. Truth is, I’ve wanted Autumn for so long that I can hardly remember a time when I haven’t, and based on the way I can’t spend more than few minutes alone with her without thinking about how good she’d feel in my arms, I knew there’d never be a time I
’d stop. Maybe distance is the only cure.

  "Sure. Might as well keep my options open." I raise my glass to my lips and enjoy the hell out of my last sip of whiskey. It’s not until I’ve put my empty glass back on the bar that I notice something’s caught my friend’s attention.

  “What’s up?”

  He shrugs. “You never told me Autumn’s prettier in person. Or so short.”

  “She’s not short,” I say while I consider getting another round. “We’re just taller than—”

  I look at him. The smug look on his face would give Jensen a run for his money. “You’ve met her?”

  He shakes his head and motions over my shoulder. “But I’m about to.”

  Chapter 18

  Autumn

  It takes me three seconds to spot Bryce and his friend in the crowded restaurant. Even if I didn’t know that tall and broad form by heart, the two men sitting side by side at the bar are eye-catching. If it wasn’t for the hair, one light, the other dark, they could be brothers.

  A thrill runs through me as Bryce spins around on his stool. The clink of silverware and the chatter in the restaurant around me dulls to a low murmur when our eyes meet. The man next to Bryce nudges him in the ribs. When he doesn’t move, the guy shakes his head and gets to his feet. His gait is long and confident as he threads his way through the crowd, and he possesses the same careful grace that I’ve always noticed in Bryce.

  “You must be the infamous Hartman I’ve heard so much about,” he says, coming to a stop in front of me. “Chase Woodrow, at your service.”

  I have to tilt my head back to look him in the eye, but then again, I’m used to it. I’ve been doing that with Bryce since seventh grade when he shot up like a sapling and just kept going.

  I take his proffered hand. “The very same. And you must be Bryce’s Air Force friend.”

  His dark eyebrows raise. “Does my reputation precede me?”

  “My assistant told me Bryce was out with an old colleague.” I push my long hair back from my face as we let our hands drop. I liked the feel of his in mine: rough and capable, like Bryce’s. “Sorry you’re not as infamous as you hoped.”

  He leans back and laughs, the deep notes reminding me of thunder still a way off. “No, that’s a good thing. Care to join us for a drink?”

  I look over at Bryce’s hunched shoulders. “If I’m not interrupting.”

  Chase shakes his head and offers me his arm. “Never,” he says, leading us back the way he came. Heads begin to turn as I pass through the crowd, and I hope that this impetuous decision to crash Bryce's plans doesn't end in a paparazzi mob. “We were talking about work, any way. Boring stuff.”

  “Technically, I’m Bryce’s work.”

  Chase looks at me. “I know. Another reason I’m glad to meet you.”

  Before I can ask what the hell that means, Chase ushers me into his seat. The metal of his watch flashes under the low-hung light bulbs as he flags down the bartender. “What do country music queens drink? It’s on me.”

  I nod at Bryce’s empty glass. “Whatever he’s having.”

  Bryce’s lips press together. “Whiskey.”

  Chase looks at Bryce and me and lowers his hand. “You know, I think I’ll try to snag the barkeep’s attention over there.” He flashes me a white smile and then takes off for the other end of the bar.

  We’re barely alone before Bryce starts in on me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.”

  “Alone?”

  “Clearly.”

  Bryce sighs. “Autumn, you can’t go off alone in the middle of a crowded, dangerous city like this.”

  “I wasn’t ‘going off’. I was coming to find you.”

  “Alone,” he snaps. “What if something happened? I only came out because I thought you’d be in the hotel. I can't protect you if you change your plans like this, not to mention this bar is a logistical nightmare if things go south. I haven't canvassed the—”

  “I know,” I interrupt before Bryce picks up too much steam, “but nothing happened on my way over.” I was getting used to his gruff manner, the way he liked to be in control all the time, but that doesn’t mean I liked it.

  Bryce’s eyes snap to mine. “Not this time, but promise me you’ll text if you’re planning a jailbreak. I’ll go to you.”

  I scoff. “And miss meeting Chase? No way.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Chase reappears behind us wearing a smirk and toting two half-filled highballs.

  “Took you long enough,” Bryce grumbles, helping himself to one of the glasses. I frown when the second one lands in front of me.

  “But where’s yours?” I ask as Chase reaches under the bar and grabs his coat off a hook.

  “Me?” He throws his bomber jacket over his arm and shrugs. “I can’t stay. Remembered I have an appointment.”

  “Surprising that you never mentioned your ‘appointment’ to me,” Bryce says dryly.

  Chase merely grins at him. Then he claps Bryce on the back and holds out a hand to me. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Autumn.”

  “Likewise,” I say, placing my hand in his. Bryce chokes on his whiskey as Chase brings my hand to his lips.

  “I hope we meet again.” Chase throws his friend an unreadable look. “Soon.”

  I stare after him while he weaves his way to the door. “What a gentleman.”

  Bryce snorts. “When he wants to be.”

  I ignore this. “Were you two really talking about work when I came in?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Like what?”

  Bryce holds his glass up to his lips. “Like how he’s trying to decide whether or not to accept a promotion that takes him back to his hometown.”

  I look at him in surprise. “Why wouldn’t he want that?”

  “Because the girl who broke his heart is from there.” My heartbeat quickens as Bryce slowly turns his head and meets my eyes. “The only girl he’s ever loved.”

  The noise of the crowd fills the tense silence that follows.

  “Why are you here, Autumn?” Bryce asks softly.

  “I needed to find you.”

  “Why?”

  “To tell you something.” I swallow painfully, pushing down the lump growing in my throat. The speech I planned in the car ride over here flies out of my head under Bryce’s spotlight stare. “Something important.”

  His face grows tense. He puts down his glass and grabs the edge of the bar. “What is it? Are you okay?”

  I nod before Bryce goes into alpha mode. “It’s about Cody.”

  Bryce turns away. “Whatever argument you two had, I’m sure you’ll work through it.”

  “No, wait. Listen—”

  “I’d rather not,” he interjects. “I just want to sit and enjoy this whiskey without Jensen ruining it.”

  “But that’s what I’m trying to say! I fired him!”

  “I don’t want to hear—” He twists and gives me a long look, too long for my already racing heart. “Why?”

  “Because he turned into a terrible manager.” My gaze dips to my glass. “And he called me a bitch.”

  Bryce’s mouth opens, then closes. He runs a shaky hand over his eyes. “And you came straight here? Why?”

  I lay a hand on his arm. He doesn’t flinch, and that realization emboldens me.

  “Because you were the only person I wanted to talk to,” I say with every last inch of strength in me. “All I could think about was you after I told him to get lost.”

  Bryce’s face is unreadable; a stony mask that my gaze can’t penetrate. And then, without warning, he breaks out a huge smile. Bryce flags down the bartender as she breezes past us. “Two SoCo lime shots, please.” My eyes widen as he smacks a twenty down onto the bar. “And two more when we’re done.”

  I shake my head. “Zoe banned me from drinking before the show.”

  “Two shots hardly count as ‘drinking.’ Besides, SoCo lime’s your favorite.”
<
br />   I melt a little. “How do you always remember these things?”

  “I always remember important things about someone I care about.”

  My heart hammers under his heady look. I couldn’t remember a time when I wanted to touch someone the way I want to touch Bryce. “Like me?”

  I look around as two shots hit the bar top in front of us. Bryce offers one to me and then raises his in the air.

  “Always you, Hartman,” he says in a voice that brings me as close to the edge of reason as I’ve ever been. “Always.”

  My shot returns to the bar, untouched, as Bryce tosses his back. It was the opening I’ve been looking for, and I can’t let the opportunity pass, even though the idea of opening that door shakes me to my core.

  “Bry, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “And you promise to give me an honest answer?”

  Bryce holds my gaze for a moment, then raises his arm and brings it in close to my chest. A shock runs through me as his hardened palm presses against my exposed breastbone. The warmth of his hand sets the bare skin of my chest on fire. His voice is tense when it comes. “Yes.”

  I fight to catch my breath, forcing air into my lungs as his palm draws away. “Why—” I clear my throat and try again. “Why did we ever grow apart?”

  “Really? We’re doing this right now? Right here?”

  “I’m sick of ignoring the question that’s been digging at me ever since I was seventeen years old. The one you refused to answer.”

  Bryce rakes a hand through his hair. His face is as serious as I’ve ever seen it. “I don’t know, Autumn, things happen. People change.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you walked out of my life.”

  His eyes narrow into golden slits. “I wasn’t the one who did the walking.”

  The fury in his voice startles me almost as much as his words. I’ve never seen his vulnerability so clearly before. I wait for him to go on, but his face remains carved in granite.