A corner of Creed’s mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “She’s a brat. You know that. Come on,” he said.
I relaxed a little then. This was Creed. We had built forts together, baited fishing hooks together, had sleep overs in backyard tents. He wasn’t a stranger. He was just beautiful now. Maybe he always had been. I was just realizing it this year. That was the difference.
We fell into step following Cora. This summer I had spent more time alone with her than I ever had. We weren’t a trio anymore. Creed had Jack and I missed him. Moments like this, when he did something with us, made the world feel right again. The Sullivan twins were the best part of my year, and I only got to be with them in the summers.
Creed’s hand touched mine and my breathing hitched. Had that been an accident? We were walking close and maybe his hand had accidentally brushed mine. Before I could think too hard about it, his hand slipped over mine and his fingers threaded with my own.
We were holding hands. My heart was going haywire and the smile stretching across my face was impossible to control. I wanted to look at him but I was afraid to. Creed Sullivan was holding my hand.
He squeezed it then and I turned my head and had to tilt it back a little to look at him. Another difference this year was he was now four inches taller than me. He had gotten beautiful and tall. He met my gaze and grinned at me.
“What? Don’t look so surprised,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. He was holding my hand. Of course, I was surprised.
He shifted his eyes to his sister, who thankfully hadn’t looked back to see us holding hands. “She may be a brat, but she’s right. I’d do whatever you asked me to do.”
One
October 24, 2019
Boston, Massachusetts
I’d always heard that nothing compared to New England in the fall. This was my first experience at seeing it first-hand. My life in New England had been in the summers- when the private school I attended was closed and my mother ran off to Europe. Summers were the best part of my year. I didn’t harbor any bitterness that my mother had no time for me in the summer. She’d given me my summers with Gran.
“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Griff asked.
I simply nodded. I wasn’t sure words could describe it. Leaves of every color it seemed covered the cobbled streets. Looking from the beauty around us, I inhaled the brisk fall air. Griff chuckled and I glanced up at him. He was equally stunning. From the first moment I’d met him, I’d been struck by how handsome he was. He was almost six-feet-tall and had a lean build from running. Griff ran in marathons, but I couldn’t run down the driveway without having to stop and catch my breath. His dark hair was always styled perfectly. My hair was unruly with curls I struggled to contain, and I envied his smooth dark locks. Hazel eyes that could only be described as dreamy looked down at me. Griff Stafford hadn’t been my first love, but he’d been my savior, even if he didn’t realize it. I adored him.
“Come on, I can’t wait until you see this place.” Griff grabbed my hand and led me to the front door of the apartment building. Griff had left Nashville two months ago to get settled in before his classes started. I’d had packing and other things to set into place. Now that we had both graduated from Vanderbilt University, our lives were different, busier. Having time for us was a luxury we didn’t get anymore.
Griff had four years of medical school ahead of him. I had my Gran’s house. My bachelor’s degree in Art History would hopefully help me find a job at an art museum. Moving to my Gran’s house in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, had never been something I considered until recently. I had done some research on art museums close to Portsmouth and I was even willing to drive to Boston for a job, if I could find one. Working in Boston meant Griff and I could have lunch together. It would be perfect and worth the commute.
While I’d been in Nashville packing up my life and trying to stay clear of my mother, Griff had been in Boston. He was happy here and I knew moving to Gran’s house was the best decision for our relationship. I didn’t see how we’d see each other much if I’d stayed in Nashville. Not that I wanted to stay there. It was just the memories connected to my time at Gran’s were complicated and I didn’t know if going back, six years later, would feel like it was just yesterday or if it had been enough time to heal.