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“You want a picture of us?” he asks. “I mean, I can get a pic with you?”
I laugh. “You sure can. What’s your name?”
“Cole.”
“Well, Cole, get over here.”
He slides in next to me, and I drape an arm over his shoulders while Autumn takes the picture.
“Here you go.” Autumn passes the phone back to Cole. “I took a few so you’ll have options.”
“Oh my God. Thank you so much. Thank you. Both of you. I can’t believe this,” he rambles, running off. Autumn and I look at each other, and she laughs, a sound that’s becoming one of my favorite things.
“Does that happen often?” she asks.
“Once in a while.”
“I have a feeling that’s about to change. People are starting to notice how well you’re playing. If you get the starting job, you’ll be bombarded wherever you go.”
“That goes with the territory.”And I’ll gladly deal with signing autographs to live out my dream.
We continue on through the rest of the course, taunting each other at every opportunity. Autumn is quite the trash talker when she wants to be. With each playful and bantering exchange we share, I’m growing more encouraged. Seeing her loosen up and be at ease in my company gives me a warm feeling in my chest.
We reach the final hole, which is set in an illuminated replica of King Neptune’s throne room. The towering throne itself is bathed in blues and greens from the black light, making it appear as though it’s floating in a magical underwater realm.
“The score is close, so this will decide who the winner is. Good luck.”
She looks up at me, smiling softly under the black lights. “You too.”
Without thinking, I reach out and gently touch her cheek. Her skin is warm and soft under my fingertips. I see the breath catch in her throat before she leans into my touch. I also notice a slight tensing of her body right before she pulls back. She raises her putter to rest against her shoulder.
“After you,” she says.
Neon sea creatures encircle the throne, creating an ever-changing kaleidoscope of colors. I take a deep breath as I line up my shot. The hole is nestled beneath the throne and is guarded by a glowing drawbridge that raises and lowers. It takes me three strokes to get the ball under the damn bridge and into the hole.
“Fucking finally,” I say, moving off to the side.
Autumn laughs and sets her ball down, then takes a deep breath.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
She nods, her eyes reflecting the neon lights with a mix of anticipation and playfulness. She takes one practice swing, and on the next one, her putter glows softly as it connects with the ball. Unlike me, it only takes her one shot to get under the bridge, but she needs one more stroke to get the ball in the hole.
“Way to go,” I cheer, clapping. She grins, clearly pleased with her performance. “I think I got you by one stroke.” I pull out the scorecard and grin as I tally up all the strokes. “I won.”
“Give me that,” she says, snatching the paper from my hand. I see her lips move as she adds up all the tally marks on the card. “Dammit. You did.” She hands the scorecard back to me, and I grin.
“Guess who’s coming to my sleepover tonight?”
CHAPTER 17
AUTUMN
The night air almost always feels cooler near the shore, but it’s even more so when you live as close as Rogan does. Tonight’s the kind of evening that makes me want to linger outside and soak in every last bit of breeze.
“Want to take a walk on the beach?” Rogan asks, as if he senses the path my thoughts have taken.
The last time we walked on the beach he kissed me. As much as I’d like that to happen again, I can’t let it. If we start kissing, what’s to stop things from escalating further? “How about we walk on the street?”
