Page 30 of Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls #1)

Sloane and I spend the rest of the day catching up on sleep. When I wake up, I feel like a whole new person—with a fresh outlook on what transpired at the end of the race.

Obviously, I imagined Cooper leaning in.

I was simply sleep-deprived and physically exhausted, and I misread the situation.

Still, I spend extra time on my hair, curling it into loose waves that fall over my oversized Babaà sweater, and give myself a soft smoky eye. My lips shine with a pale pink gloss as I head downstairs.

“Damn. You realize it’s going to be dark, right?” Sloane says. “No one’s going to see how amazing you look.”

“I spent the afternoon covered in dirt, leaves, and wet toilet paper. I needed to feel human again.”

“Okay, heard. You ready, then?” Sloane grabs her jacket and we head out.

The night air has a bite. I stretch my sleeves down over my hands, tucking my fingers into the soft fabric, and I gaze up at the sky.

The clouds cleared while we were sleeping, and now every star in the universe feels visible from Saffron Lane tonight, sparkling and blinking like they’re communicating in Morse code.

The breathtaking black expanse is a canvas of shimmering lights.

This flawless sky is one thing I’ll miss once I’m back in New York City.

“So, it seemed like you and Cooper had fun today,” Sloane says, giving me a sidelong glance.

“What about it, Sloane?”

“I don’t know. You say you’re just friends, but…”

“But what? I’m moving back to New York soon,” I remind her. “Not to mention, there’s something clearly going on between him and Chloe.”

Sloane scoffs. “Please. If he were into Chloe, I think he would have made a move by now. She’s firmly in the friend zone.”

“Well, so am I. And barely ! I just made it out of the acquaintance zone. A few weeks ago, Cooper couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me. I barely know him, or at least who he is now .”

“You’ve spent more time with Cooper this past month than I have in the last two years combined! You know him.” Sloane sighs. “But I will accept your crappy excuses and drop it for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“But tomorrow is fair game,” she says.

I roll my eyes, elbowing her gently in the side, and she laughs.

When we reach downtown, my mouth gapes. In just a few hours, the volunteers have transformed the square into a wonderland.

The gazebo is wrapped in fairy lights, and a song from Folklore pours from giant speakers inside.

Strings of globe lights drape from tree to tree.

A giant bonfire is already ablaze, with log benches and folding chairs placed around it.

Lanterns hang from posts in the ground, illuminating a path to where tables of food and drinks are set up, and hollowed-out pumpkins filled with candles are scattered throughout the leaf-covered lawn, adding to the fall vibe.

The Boots and Blankets Bonfire is absolutely enchanting.

After meeting Asher by the tables of food and grabbing cups of hot mulled cider, the three of us make our way to the bonfire. We squish together on a log bench, and I sip my drink while Sloane talks about the upcoming school play.

I’m completely zoned out when, across the fire, Cooper walks over with Slug and some guys from our calculus class, his mussed hair, black hoodie, and gray sweatpants glowing orange in the firelight.

He throws his head back, laughing at a joke his friend tells, and I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

Cooper puts his hood up and stares into the fire, flames dancing in his eyes behind the black-framed glasses that drive me wild.

He grins, and I study the curve of his upper lip and the way his one canine slightly overlaps the tooth next to it.

I notice the scar on his left eyebrow, and I take in the way his dimple creates a crater when he bites his bottom lip.

Admiring Cooper Barnett might be my favorite Bramble Falls activity.

As if he can sense me watching him, Cooper’s gaze meets mine. The fire crackles and pops between us, turning wood to ash, and all I can think is, Maybe he did lean in. . . .

“What do you think?” Sloane says to my right. I drag my eyes from Cooper and settle them on my cousin.

“Sorry. About what?”

“We’re going to walk around and see who’s here. You want to come?” she repeats.

“No, that’s okay. It’s freezing out here. I’m going to stay by the fire for a while.”

Asher and Sloane slink off toward the gazebo, leaving me alone on the bench.

I sneak a glance across the fire, but Cooper is gone.

Friction warms my hands as I rub them together, and my breath creates a puff of white in the cold air. A song from Fearless comes on, and a bunch of girls cheer.

It seems a Swiftie was in charge of the playlist—another thing Bramble Falls got right tonight.

I’m humming along when someone plops down next to me.

“Hey, partner,” Cooper says, setting a plate of treats on the bench to his left. He pulls my scarf from his front hoodie pocket. “You left this here earlier.” He shifts his body so he’s facing me and gingerly wraps it around my neck. My breath catches as his fingers graze my collarbone.

“Thanks,” I breathe, meeting his amber eyes. I swallow and look away. Pull yourself together, Ellis. “You’ve just been carrying it around all day?”

He shrugs and faces the fire again. “Figured I’d see you at some point. We always seem to be in the same place.” He grabs the plate next to him. “I also brought you treats.”

“Oh, thanks.” I take the plate, intensely aware of Cooper’s thigh and shoulder pressed to mine, despite him having plenty of space on the other end of the bench.

“So, what do you think of all this?” he asks, gesturing widely around us.

“It’s beautiful. And atmospheric… but also freezing.”

“I know, right?” He leans into me ever so slightly, warming my side with his radiating body heat. When his pinkie accidentally brushes mine, every one of my nerve endings buzzes. “I can’t believe I forgot my blanket.”

A soft breeze rustles the trees and feeds the fire. I try to tuck my head into my scarf.

“You want my hoodie?” Cooper asks.

“You’d freeze to death without it. I’ll be okay but thank you.”

“You gonna eat that?” He nods at the plate he handed to me. It’s full of various desserts—macarons, cookies, brownies, scones, and cupcakes.

“Yeah, but I can share. This is a lot,” I say, holding the plate in front of him.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

I grab an orange cookie with chunks of Oreos sticking out of it.

“I haven’t tried this kind yet,” I say.

“I know. It’s my favorite,” Cooper says. “Oreo Creamsicle.”

I’m not sure if knowing it’s Cooper’s favorite makes it taste even better, but I’m almost speechless when I take my first bite.

“Oh my god,” I say through a mouthful of the dessert. “Cooper, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” I take another bite, the sweet, velvety dough practically melting on my tongue.

“The sexiest food ever?” He laughs.

“Yes, exactly!”

He nods, his dimple sinking into his cheek as he smiles shyly at me. “I baked it.”

I stop chewing. “What?”

“All the cookies—well, all the pastries—at the Caffeinated Cat. I bake them.”

I stare at him. Then at the cookie in my hand. Then back at him. “Are you serious?”

He laughs. “You shouldn’t be so surprised. I’m pretty sure you knew me at my nerdiest stage when all I talked about was baking.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true,” I say. He really was obsessed. “But baking as a hobby is different than baking for actual customers!”

I think back on this past month—all the times I ordered a cookie from him at the shop, or all the times he’s brought me one, or the times I’ve gushed about them in front of him.

“Why haven’t you mentioned it before now?” I ask.

“I guess I liked seeing your candid reactions. I liked that someone liked them so much without knowing I made them.” He shrugs one shoulder. “And I liked knowing you weren’t saying it just to be nice.”

“Trust me, no one is giving you compliments on these cookies just to be nice.”

Cooper blushes in the firelight. “Thanks.”

“This explains so much.” Like him being in awe of Fern. And Sloane calling him little baker boy. “I can’t believe Sloane never told me. What a brat.”

He laughs. “She probably assumed you knew. Everyone here knows. I can’t believe you’ve gone this long without figuring it out.”

“Apparently, I’m not that observant.” I turn to him. “It’s really cool you continued baking as you got older,” I say, wondering what it’d be like to take a passion seriously enough to become as good as Cooper is at baking.

To have the time to dedicate to becoming that good.

“I love it,” he says, simply. “My plan is to hopefully go to ICE after high school.”

I stare at him. “… ICE?”

“Yeah, the Institute of Culinary Education. You know, in New York City. I’d love to open my own bakery one day.”

“Oh. Wow.” A thousand thoughts filter through my mind, the first being: Cooper is planning on moving to New York City—m y city. And second: “So, you’re planning on baking, like, as a career…?”

“Yeah…?” He tilts his head. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No. Baking just seems more like a hobby, you know? Not a realistic career path.”

“Tell that to Baked by Melissa,” he says, turning away from me and staring back at the fire.

“Well, sure, of course some people are going to get lucky. But there’s no guarantee that you’ll be one of the few to succeed. Did you know that most small businesses fail within their first five years?”

He shakes his head and fixes his eyes on me again. “Look, all I know is I’m not going to spend the rest of my life doing something I’m not passionate about. Not when doing something I love is an option. Nothing is guaranteed in any career, so I might as well be chasing my dreams.”

I nod slowly, trying to wrap my head around how someone can be so laid-back about their future, how someone can just trust that everything will be fine—even when their dreams aren’t the most practical.

How can Cooper have no fear of failure?