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“Autumn,” he grunts. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“You had me hiked up against the wall, Judah. I think I can do whatever I want.”

He bites back a grin and rocks an expression on his face that looks like a combination of amusement and embarrassment.

I move my hands from his back and slide them up his abs, feeling his stomach quiver.

He grimaces and says, “Stop.”

“Make me.”

Beaming down at me again, he moves his forehead to mine as if he’s conflicted about kissing me again, but I’m not confused about a thing.

I move my lips to connect with his, kissing him loosely.

A tap here. A tap there. I trace his lips with the tip of my tongue and wedge it between his lips again, urging him to give me what I want – another hot, tongue-tangling, kissing session.

That’s precisely what I get when he grips the back of my neck and buries his tongue down my throat.

Soft moans leak out of my mouth. I tried to be quiet. I really tried, but everything in me wants everything in him, and now that I know he feels the same, it’s difficult to contain those emotions. It’s a good thing he’s swallowing them, muffling the noises as he takes his time with my mouth.

Tongue to tongue, lips to lips, I drink his saliva while my hands find their way up his shirt again.

He snatches his mouth from mine and says softly, “Autumn.”

“Judah,” I utter breathlessly in return.

He smiles, brushes his thumb across my cheek again, and asks, “What were we supposed to be doing again?”

A small grin touches my thoroughly-kissed lips. “You claimed you were going to choose a book for me.”

“Oh. Right. I still am,” he says, cupping my chin and pressing his lips to mine briefly.

I say, “And I’m fine with you picking a book, but make sure it’s one with a kiss-against-the-wall kind of energy.”

“I got you.”

I smile while taking a side step to leave the hold he has on me. I don’t want to, but I also don’t want the crew finding us in the back corner.

He grabs my hand, pulling me back to him, right up against his body and all of him engulfs me in a hug.

Oh, I love this feeling so much—love being in his arms. Even if he doesn’t know it yet, I know he’s mine from this point forward. Whatever reservations he has, he’ll just have to get over them.

When he releases me, I go in search of the others. Tabitha and Moriah are sitting on the sofa when I return.

I say, “Hi, ladies.”

“Hey,” Tabitha says. “Girl, you alright? You look flushed.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a little humid outside,” I tell her.

When I see them with coffee and frappes, I walk over to the coffee counter to order a mocha frappe for myself when I feel Judah’s presence looming behind me. He says, “She’s with the group. Put it on my tab.”

I grin and turn around to ask, “You really opened a tab?”

“I did,” he says, staring at my lips. “Get whatever you want.”

“I’m good with the frappe. Thank you, Judah Westinghouse.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, then leans down close to my ear and continues, “Autumn Pemberton.”

I’m pleasantly surprised by this side of him. I like this more relaxed version. The flirtier version. This is the man I thought I was getting when he gave me his ice cream. I’m glad he finally showed up and showed out.

After I get the frappe, we walk over to join the others. A few more people join us – ones that I’m meeting for the first time.

I ask, “So, what do you all do when you meet up here at the bookstore?”

Judah was about to speak, but Luna speaks up, and says, “We read silently for fifteen minutes and then we discuss aloud what we like or dislike about the book based on the few pages we’ve read.”

I look at Judah and he replies, “What she said.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Judah sets a timer and says, “Starting now,” and then he sits on the armrest of the chair I’m sitting on and hands me the book he just purchased for me.

I crack it open to chapter one and begin reading.

The story starts off good. It’s a cute little romance about a woman who owns a bakery and is doing her best to take care of her sick sister.

Then in walks a man, suited up, looking like he’s about his business.

It’s a romance novel, so of course he’s the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her entire life.

I smile at the thought. Things get interesting when the man finds out the woman running the joint is severely shy and really doesn’t have the skills it takes to run a business, but she makes one heck of a cupcake.

“Okay, time’s up,” Judah says. “Who would like to share first?”

Luna stands up and says, “I would.”

Of course she would.

“Ahem,” she says. “So, the book I’m reading is called A Bride for Mars .

Okay, let me lay out the premise of the story.

There’s a woman who is called to Mars to be a bride because if the king of Mars doesn’t get married, the inhabitants will all die.

The woman is hesitant to go, but I think she’s going to end up falling in love with him. Ooo—I can’t wait to finish this one.”

I smile and then listen as a few other people share their stories.

Judah asks, “What was yours about, Autumn?”

“Skip me,” I say. “Go to someone else.”

“Oh, come on,” Tabitha says. “We’re all family here. Ain’t no need to be shy.”

“Yeah, Autumn. There’s no need to be shy.”

“You’re right.” Since he put me on the spot, I’ll do the same to him, inconspicuously of course.

Instead of saying what my book was about, I say, “So, my story opens with this woman meeting a man who doesn’t want to fall in love because he’s sick.

She’s really feeling him, though, and the author makes sure she lets the reader in on the fact that the woman knows the man is feeling her, too, but she doesn’t think the man will change his mind.

So now, she struggles internally. Should she continue to hope and wish that he will change his mind, or should she leave him alone?

I read chapters one and two. I’m looking forward to seeing what chapter three will bring. ”

“That sounds good,” Moriah says. “I’ma have to read that after I finish mine. But let me tell y’all what mine is about.”

While Moriah is telling everyone what her book is about, Judah leans down and whispers in my ear, “That’s not what your book was about.”

“Says who?” I ask, staring him in the eyes. He’s a smart guy, so I know he can read between the lines. He knows I was talking about him—about us.

He says, “Well, I predict that if the story goes the way the woman wants it to go, it’s going to have a sad ending.”

“But it doesn’t have to.”

“Says who?” he asks, then gets up and walks over to the coffee counter.

I try not to look at him, but I can’t help it.

When I glance over to see where he’s gone, I catch Luna’s inquisitive eyes.

I think I’m telling on myself. I have a crush on him, and I probably shouldn’t.

He has a crush on me, and he doesn’t want to.

But he wants my lips, and I want his heart – something I know he’s not ready to give me.

I’m more than ready to give him everything.

Right now, he’s being standoffish the same way he was at the campfire – separating himself from me intentionally when, just a half hour ago, I was hoisted up beside the wall with his tongue nearly in my stomach.

After drinks have been sipped and partial stories synopsized, I decide it’s time for me to head home. Judah never returned to the circle with the rest of us and, as a matter of fact, I don’t know where he is. No one does.

“Bye, y’all. I have to get up early for work in the morning, so I’m going to head out.”

“Okay, Autumn,” Tabitha says. “See ya.”

“Drive safe, babe,” Luna says.

“Bye,” Moriah says.

“Bye,” I tell them before finally walking toward the exit. The heat slaps me in the face as soon as I step outside. I head to my car, foregoing any kind of chance of seeing Judah before I leave. As I get closer to my car, I see his car parked beside mine.

And he’s sitting in it.

Granted the sun has gone down and the temperature isn’t in the nineties, but it’s still muggy in the mid-eighties. Why is he out here instead of in there?

When I get closer to my car, he gets out of his and says, “Surely you weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye to me, were you?”

“As far as I knew, you were already gone.”

“I’m not.”

“I can see that.”

He walks closer to me, and while his very presence makes me want more of his deep kisses, right now, I need answers. So, I look at him and ask straight-up, “Why did you leave?”

“I needed some air.”

“There’s no air stirring out here, Judah. Why did you leave?”

He sighs heavily and, after massaging the nape of his neck, he says, “I was thinking about the story you made up in there.”

“What about it?”

“There is no happy ending to it. It’s not one of those romance novels you like to read. It’s real life, and real life, sweetheart, is a tragedy.”

“ This is what you’re out here thinking about?”

“It is.”

I sigh and hang my head, thinking of what I can say to pull him out of this darkness he’s slipping into.

I say, “To me, a tragedy is not feeling your arms around me.”

“Autumn—”

“A tragedy is not feeling your tongue in my mouth. A tragedy, Judah Westinghouse, is the thought that you’re ready to give up on something that hasn’t even had a chance to start.”

I take a few steps over to him, rise to my tiptoes, and kiss him on the cheek. Then I say, “Have a good night, Judah.”

“Goodnight, Autumn.”

I get into my car and head home more confused than I was when I arrived.

I can still feel his lips on mine. The texture of his tongue will forever be embedded in my mouth.

His taste lives on my tonsils like it pays rent.

But as I travel down the road, I can’t help but feel like I’m heading for heartbreak, yet, I don’t want to end this journey, and perhaps I shouldn’t.

Maybe I should back off and give him time to figure out what he wants, even if it’s driving me insane.