Sweet Fall (Sweet Home #2)

Alone with the voice.

Finding my bedroom too stifling, I decided to take a walk. Throwing my hooded jacket over my black boyfriend jeans and oversized, worn Nightwish shirt, I made my way out of the house and let my feet take me where they wanted to go.

With my hood pulled up high, I startled when I realized where I was: the summerhouse. Casting a glance around me, all was quiet in the frat house, and I tried the doorknob. It was open.

Cautiously edging inside, I shook off the rain, lifted my head, and suddenly jumped so hard my heartbeat thundered in my ears. There at the roaring open fire was Austin, hands flat above the fireplace mantle and head ducked down, staring at the flames.

Nerves accosted me as I watched him. His muscles were huge under his black shirt and jeans, his dark hair messy. And his beautiful tattoos were proudly on display. He was perfection, and the pain in my gut reminded me just how much I missed him… just how much I’d grown to need him. And he’d ripped away that need.

I hadn’t known he was here, at school. From what I could gather, he was always with his momma at the trailer park. Even at football practice, he would do his sprints and leave. He never looked my way, but I was always looking at him. Watching him from afar.

Bowing my head, I began backing out the door, when my foot pressed on a loose floorboard, a loud creak echoing around the room.

Austin’s head snapped back toward me and his face immediately softened when he saw me at the door. “Pix?” Austin whispered in a rough voice.

Looking back at the open door, I decided to leave, but Austin said, “Please, Pix… don’t go.”

Sighing, I turned back around and found Austin right before me. His scent washed over me like a welcomed breeze on a hot summer day and his finger ran down my cheek. He always did that. I was never sure why… I missed that too.

“I was just thinking about you… I’m always fuckin’ thinking of you, Pix.”

He’d been drinking. I could smell the strong scent of whiskey on his breath.

I immediately lifted my chin and was met with burning dark eyes… tired eyes surrounded by dark rings. My hand lifted to his face and I inched closer still. “Austin…” I whispered and almost dropped to the floor as he nuzzled into my palm, seeking my touch. His rough stubble scraped at my skin.

“I just needed to numb the pain, Pix… it’s all so fucked up,” he said almost inaudibly, and I pushed up his chin to meet his unfocused eyes, eyes full of tears.

“Austin, don’t cry,” I said brokenly.

Inhaling a shuddering breath, tears began tumbling from his eyes, shoulders racking, and I pulled all six-feet-four of him into my arms. His forehead lay in the crevice of my neck, and I felt the salty droplets run down my skin.

Even broken like this, he knew not to touch my back, his arms tight around the nape of my neck.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” I soothed.

His head shook, and I almost fell over beneath Austin’s massive weight. “No, Pix… nothing’s right. It’s all gone to shit… everything… I had to walk away, don’t you see?”

Unable to take the gutting tone of his voice, I began to cry with him, hopelessly trying to take away his pain.

“Austin, come here.” Lifting his head from my neck, I took hold of his hand and led him to the sofa. Austin dropped to the seat first and, yanking on my arm, pulled me down to sit on his lap. The panic came quick and fast, but Austin, clearly sensing my anxiety, flipped us until we were lying face to face.

The light glow of the fire highlighted Austin’s wet face, and gripping the back of my head with one hand, he brought his lips to mine. As our mouth set into a languid, beautiful embrace, I tasted the salt from his tears on his lips, the hot burn of whiskey on his tongue and I melted into the touch I’d been craving for so long.

Breaking away on a gasp, Austin didn’t release my head. “Pix, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“No, Austin,” I pressed, “you have nothing to apologize for. You can’t fight what was always destined to be.”

He huffed a laugh, but it got caught in his throat and released as a pained sob.

“Talk to me,” I pushed. I couldn’t take him being so sad. “Is it your mamma? Has she got worse?”

A dark shadow seemed to cloud Austin’s eyes and he sucked in the corner of his bottom lip. I knew that movement. Knew it enough to know I was right.

“She’s only got weeks now, Pix. She’s a fuckin’ mess. She can’t really talk no more. Levi’s a mess too. He never leaves her side.”

My stomach fell, and I squeezed his hand in support.

“Where… where have you been? You’re never at school,” I asked nervously.

Austin’s gaze slammed to mine and he swallowed in apprehension. “I’ve been around, Pix. I’m always around.”