Page 10 of 500 First Editions (The Romantics #3)

Wander sat up in bed. “Why do you want to beat him? Why not enjoy this? Because you’re giving him absolutely nothing and coming out on top here. If anything, your grocery budget is going to be way lower for the next three months.”

“Okay. Good talk. I’ll enjoy the free food and not reciprocate the note conversation.”

Before the girls could argue, I shot Ryan a curt “thank you” text. Two words and nothing else. He wouldn’t know what to do about me not continuing the note conversation.

“Have you seen him since the day after the conference?” Wander asked.

“We . . . got lunch yesterday,” I hedged. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. He mentioned pierogies, and they sounded good and?—”

Whitney grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, that’s cute.”

I rolled my eyes. “It was lunch.”

“Yeah, but you went with him willingly,” Wander said with a matching grin. “Careful, Wills. You might end up falling for your totally real fake boyfriend.”

“He is not a real fake boyfriend. He’s a fake boyfriend.”

Whitney tapped her chin. “Enemies to lovers . . . fake dating . . . I’d say you’ve got your own cliché.”

“It’s about time!” Wander said. “You gave me so much shit for the dead aunt cliché.”

“Yeah, but look at how well it turned out for you,” I countered.

“And think about how well this could turn out for you,” Whitney said. “It’s like a 2000s rom-com!”

“The romance movie cliché!” Wander exclaimed.

I just shook my head. “This ends with me moving in a week and never seeing him again. It doesn’t end with him riding a motorcycle through traffic to chase down a taxi.

It doesn’t end with him standing outside my window, holding a boombox over his head.

It doesn’t end with the two of us living happily ever after. Because this isn’t fiction.”

It ends with me alone. Just like I had been since I moved away from home at eighteen.

I was saved by the bell. An incoming call from my favorite person on earth appeared on my screen, prompting me to either answer and end the video call or send the call to voicemail.

“Shep’s calling. I gotta go.”

“Tell Step Shep we said hi!” Wander said.

“Love you, Wills,” Whitney said. “Even if you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. And that’s saying a lot because we’re friends with Wander.”

I laughed as I said goodbye and answered the call from Shep.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Autumn. How are you?” Shep asked. His voice was tired but upbeat.

“Good. Just . . . eating breakfast. Are you home or on the road?”

My stepdad, Shepherd Winslow, was an over-the-road trucker. Even though he wasn’t technically my stepdad anymore, since he and my mom divorced when I was in high school, Shep had always been a constant in my life.

“On the road. Coming through Idaho. Did you ever decide where you’re going next? If you head out this way, I found a little diner outside of Boise you’ve gotta try. Best cake you’ll ever have in your life. I got an extra piece to eat for breakfast this morning.”

My phone chimed as a text from Ryan came in.

Ryan

The flowers made me think of you. Soft pink and pretty green. Hope you like them.

My cheeks flushed.

“You there, Autumn?” Shep asked.

“I’m here.” I quickly closed the text as my heart lodged itself in my throat. “Sorry. Got a text.”

“That text wouldn’t happen to be from the man currently dating Willow Winslet, would it?”

I groaned. “Please stop following my social media accounts.”

Shep chuckled, a rich sound that had always comforted me. “What’s the real story?”

I spilled every single detail, including the very embarrassing meet-hate where Ryan teased me for buying a vibrator that ended up being a box full of rocks.

“And he sent you flowers and breakfast fit for a queen this morning?” Shep asked. “Completely unprompted?”

“Well, I mean I guess it’s not completely unprompted. He’s trying to get me to endorse his dating program or whatever.”

Shep chuckled. “Autumn, I know you don’t want to hear this?—”

“Then don’t say it,” I begged.

“Have you ever stopped to think that he might actually like spending time with you?”

“I highly doubt that,” I said around a French fry. “I almost checked the French toast for poison, but I was too hungry to care.”

“Why do you doubt it, darling?”

“Because he should hate me.” It was as simple as that.

“Or maybe he enjoyed talking to someone who didn’t bend to him easily. Maybe he liked being challenged as a person. Maybe he actually had a good time going on an adventure with you.”

“Pierogies are hardly an adventure.”

“Anything can be an adventure, Autumn. I would think you’d have learned that by now. What, with all your travels? Maybe this is the stint where your adventure is a person, not a place. You said you two had to be together for three months. That’s how long you usually stay in a state.”

“I hate when you sound like a parent,” I groaned.

Shep laughed. “Sorry, kiddo. I had you for fifteen years. It doesn’t wear off easily.”

“You still have me,” I said. “You’ll always be Step Shep.” I could see his silver-stubbled smile in my mind. “You driving?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m headed back to Lisa. You could always come back home. Show your fancy city boy the sights. Let me interrogate him.”

I laughed. “You mean the one stoplight and the willow tree?”

“That willow tree is my favorite spot in the world.”

“Mine too,” I admitted.

Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, but I picked up on the soft tune he was humming. It took me back to the days of freckled cheeks, skinned knees, grass-stained jeans, and Shep.

Those were the good days.

The idea of going home wasn’t the most thrilling, but I missed everyone. My dad would probably hate that I’d want to go spend time with Shep and Lisa—the woman Shep had married after his divorce from my mom. My mom wouldn’t be thrilled about it either, but she’d keep those opinions to herself.

A knock at the door cut through the haze. “Hold on, someone’s at my door.”

“Actually, I’m gonna let you go,” Shep said. “Traffic’s getting heavy.”

“All right. Drive safe.”

“Love you, Autumn.”

“Love you too, Shep.”

I felt lighter as I made sure my robe was closed and made my way to the door. That was until I opened it.

“Ryan.” I was so startled by the sight of Ryan Ford, in gym shorts, a t-shirt, and his glasses, that I nearly stumbled back.

A messenger bag was slung across his chest, and a single peony was in his hand. “Morning.”

All I could do was blink because he looked absolutely delectable. His dark hair was messy, like he had just gotten out of the shower. I could still smell soap clinging to his skin. It was woodsy and masculine.

“Uh—hi . . .”

He cracked a smile; the panty-melting kind that had my knees shaking.

I wasn’t in my full, sassy form this early in the morning, and he had already shattered some of my defenses with the bouquet and breakfast. It was a one-two punch I was still stumbling from.

But Ryan Ford at my door with a flower in his hand? That was the haymaker.

He had won this round.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have a confession.” He offered the peony.

“When I ordered the flowers down at the shop, I stole one out of the bouquet and took it home. I had it sitting beside me while I worked this morning, and I couldn’t stop looking at it and thinking about you.

Besides, eleven stems seem a little uneven.

You need the full dozen. I wouldn’t want you to think you’re getting cheated. ”

I chewed on my lips. “You came all the way from Queens just to give me a flower?”

Ryan shook his head. “I came all the way from Queens because I wanted to see you.”

“And what are you going to do now that you’ve delivered the flowers?" I asked as I held the peony to my chest.

Ryan pulled up the strap to his messenger bag. “I know you’re on vacation, but I was going to get some work done at the library. Even con men have to pay the bills, and that requires answering emails.”

I let out a short laugh.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I’ve never met an author who doesn't like libraries.”

I pretended to think it over, but I did have some work to catch up on, and doing it at the New York Public Library sounded like the perfect day.

“You drive a hard bargain, Ford.”

Hope lifted his eyebrows. “You’ll come?”

I turned and tucked the peony into the vase so it wouldn’t wilt. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”

He leaned on the doorframe and undressed me with his eyes. “Be my guest.”

I laughed as I walked back toward him. “I hate to break it to you, but it takes more than French fries for me to take my top off for an audience.”

That devastating smirk hooked on the corner of his mouth, dimpling his cheek. “You gonna give me the secret formula?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And with that, I slammed the door.