Bring Down the Stars (Beautiful Hearts Duet #1)(57)

The gruff whisper of his voice deepened. “If only.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. I just miss you.”

“Me too, but…” I swallowed hard. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s the time to tell you this…”

“Tell me everything.”

“It hurt when I didn’t hear from you after we spent the night together.”

“I know it did.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Autumn.”

“It’s funny, but when we’re talking on the phone right now? Or texting? I feel so close to you. I feel closer to you than when I’m actually with you.”

“I know.”

“You told me you don’t always know what to say, but—”

“I always know what to say,” he said. “Always. But I can’t say it. Like I’m drunk when I’m with you. I’m drunk off of you and then I…I don’t know. I have to step back. And it takes a cold shower of reality to slap some sense into me.”

“I love everything you’re saying now,” I said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I know. I am too.”

“You are?”

“Sure. Of fucking this up. Of hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you, Autumn. I just want you to be happy. That’s it. End of story.”

My breath became a little shallower. My heart beat a little faster.

“I don’t want to hurt you either,” I said. “Or ask more than you can give, but a part of me wishes you’d share this side of yourself with the world. I know your parents put so much pressure on you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “They do.”

A yawn I couldn’t stop came over me.

“You should sleep,” he said.

“I’ve lost all sense of time. Feels like ages since Mom called me,” I said. “Thank you again. And tell Weston thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being there for me at the bakery. He took care of me when I was freaking out.”

“He has his moments.”

I closed my eyes to the sense memories of the dream. Closing my eyes and falling into Connor’s kiss. Opening my eyes and falling out of Weston’s kiss.

They both helped me that night. They’re both special to me in different ways.

“Connor?”

He coughed a little, his voice growing more gruff. “Yeah?”

“If my dad gets better like they think he will, then I’ll head back to Boston. And if I can do that, then I’d like to go to Thanksgiving at your parents’ house.”

“You would?”

“If you still want me to.”

“It would mean everything to…me. But are you sure?”

“I never spend Thanksgiving at the farm. I can only ever afford one holiday flight and Christmas wins.”

“I can help with any flight, Autumn.”

“I know. But this is the one that counted.” I leaned back against the swing. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too. And I’m here if you need me.”

“That’s all I need.” Tears filled my eyes again.

“Don’t cry,” he said, his whispering voice softer. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How did you know I was crying?”

I heard him take a long, slow breath. Full of hesitation. “I’m starting to memorize you,” he said. “Not just your words but how you talk. The silences between words. The sound you make when you’re thinking. The quiet where you try to hold back, and the little floods where you don’t.”

I pressed my fingertips to my mouth, listening, absorbing every word straight into my heart.

“I know you’re crying because I can hear you,” he said. “And I can’t hold you but I want to hold you. So much.”

“Me too. I need to feel you.” I curled hard around the phone, holding it tightly.

“I can’t hold you and be there for you, but I hear you. And I changed my mind; if you need to cry, go ahead. I’m listening. I’ll take anything you need to give. Anything and everything. I’m right here. You can give it to me. I can take it. I want to.”

His words unlocked something deep inside me. What I thought would be a tired little cry turned into a flood of tears, pouring into the phone. Fear for my father. For the farm that was already struggling. For gratitude that I was home, and for the longing to be with this man who was hundreds of miles away.

“Thank you,” I said, voice reduced to a croak.

“Try to get some sleep,” he said, his whispered voice thick now. “But call me if you can’t. I’ll stay up with you. As long as it takes.”

“Okay.”

A pause.

“Autumn?”

“I’m going now.”

“All right.”

Another silence, and then we laughed.

“For real this time. Good night, Connor.”

Another short pause, then, “Goodnight, Autumn.”





Weston



I hung up the phone and stared at it, shocked at what I’d just done. What I’d said to her. The truth that poured out of my heart and the emotion flooding back from Autumn to me.