Page 62 of Promised Love
“And you think nothing has changed since you’ve come here?”
Her question effectively shuts me up because the reality is, so much has changed. Autumn is no longer the girl who was writing me emails, telling me stories of her town and her teenage friends.
She’s now a beautiful woman with big hopes and dreams. Someone who not only turns me on but makes my heart race like no one has ever done.
But our situation hasn’t changed. If anything, it has become more complicated. Every day I’m here, there’s a small voice inside my head that questions our decision of divorce, and it’s getting louder and louder.
“Nothing relevant has changed. I’m still the same Lukas Spencer, the lost son of Martha Spencer. You’re still Autumn Smith. We’re still two strangers forced together. Our living like this doesn’t change the plan that we need to get divorced.”
“I know, and I’m not asking for you to stay tied to me forever.”
“Then what the hell are you asking?” All of a sudden, I struggle to breathe with the way she’s looking at me. Dilated pupils. Shallow breaths. Flushed cheeks.
“What if we were just two strangers helping Andy and Maya with their wedding? What if we weren’t Lukas Spencer and Autumn Smith? Would things have ended up differently last night?”
21
AUTUMN
Lukas looks at me as if he’s seen a ghost.
“Would we have stopped then?” I take a step forward, which brings me face to face with him. My hands tremble, but I don’t let my nerves show. I place my hand on his chest, over his jacket.
When he does nothing more than release a shaky breath, I slide my palm past the cold zipper and feel the warm, soft material of his T-shirt.
“What if we forget how we’re here for a while?” I whisper and my words linger in the air around us.
He’s quiet for several seconds, but then says in a hoarse rasp, “This is a dangerous game you’re proposing, Autumn.” His fists remain clenched as his serious gaze bores into me.
“Didn’t you once tell me that to achieve something big, we need to take some risks?” I throw back the lines he’d written to me in his email when I was nervous about a school project.
His lips twitch for a brief second, and I don’t know what shifted, but his voice is calmer when he says, “So what are you proposing?”
Okay, Autumn, here it goes.
“What if we let our feelings guide us and don’t hold back? What if what happens at the inn remains at the inn?”
“And this doesn’t change our imminent divorce?” He raises an eyebrow but otherwise remains still. It feels as if he’s not even breathing.
I shake my head more times than necessary.
“And you don’t think this will change anything between us”—he jerks his hand in the sliver of space between our bodies—“when we sign the divorce papers?”
I shake my head once more.
“And you won’t fall in love with me?”
My heart rattles against my rib cage, sending a rush of shivers throughout my body. The tall mountain of confidence I’m building shakes, readying to tumble down. “Can I be honest?”
His blue eyes widen, giving away a hint of nervousness. A moment passes until he slowly nods.
“Lukas.” My voice trembles, and his name on my lips feels like a prayer, a wish. “I think…I’ve always loved you as a friend. And I don’t think that’ll ever change.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, he grabs my waist and pulls me closer.
There’s only a breath of space between us when he asks, “You’re sure about this?”
A soft yes escapes me before our mouths crash against each other. Unlike yesterday, his kiss is controlled, and in my sober state, my brain registers every detail.