I sit in the Range Rover outside Hollow Manor—the ck mansion that overlooks Cozy Creek—for a full minute with the engine off. I’m still trying to convince myself that being here is a good idea, even if I have nowhere else I’d rather be.


    The house looks exactly how I remember it from when we were teenagers, before Zane’s mother passed away. There are new additions though. Dark wood flower boxes are now under the windows, full of orange and deep purple flowers. A sparkling wreath made of golden autumn leaves hangs on the oversize door, and pumpkins are lined up on the steps. It’s the little details that show signs of the life Zane has built while I was hiding in my Manhattan office. He’s made this ce a home, and I’m happy that he’s found true love. He deserves it.


    I suck in a deep breath, trying to get my shit together before I get out. We’re on the mend, but it’s still hard because I carry so much guilt.


    In January, I flew here so Zane and I could reconcile. We’ve gotten together a few times when he’s visited the city, and we text asionally. We’re trying, now that his dad married my mother. It’s impossible to avoid one another during the holidays.


    Thest time I was here, I ran into Julie again and learned she was Autumn’s best friend.


    My phone dings with a text. I unlock it.


    Asher


    Did you make it there okay?


    Nick


    Sitting outside of Zane’s as we speak.


    Asher


    Good. Quit being a chickenshit and go inside.


    I shake my head, wondering how my brother knew. Before I go inside, I text another one of my old hockey friends, Patterson Cross, knowing I have to make an effort with the people who care about me.


    Nick


    Have to take a rain check for our drinks next Friday. I’m in Cozy Creek until November.


    Patterson


    What the hell? Why?


    Nick


    Asher said I needed a vacation. If you get bored, you shoulde check out the harvest festival. Got a ce for you to stay.


    Patterson


    Might take you up on that. Tell Zane I said sup.


    Nick


    Will do.


    I force myself out of the Range Rover and up the steps to the door. I give three knocks. Secondster, Zane opens the door, and we look at each other for a moment. He’s in jeans and a nnel, and the gold of his wedding ring catches the light. Happy suits him in a way that makes me proud. He found what he’d always been searching for—love and happiness.


    “Nick.” His voice is neutral.


    He’s not surprised. I texted him and let him know I was heading to Colorado for the season.


    “Zane.” I try for casual. “You always this excited to see me?”


    Something in his face shifts. It’s a smile. “Honestly? I halfway expected you to bail on the way to the airport. You weren’t always a ke.”


    “Yeah, you’re right.” The admissiones out easier than I thought.


    “My manners. Wee in.” He steps to the side, letting me enter. “Want a beer?”


    “Yeah. I’ll have one. Thanks.”


    The dark wall is lined with wedding photos of Zane and Autumnughing, dancing, looking at each other like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. There’s one of my mom and Zane’s dad—our parents—and they’re beaming at the camera. I missed one of the happiest moments of his life, and that hurts.


    My eyes slide to the fridge.


    Zane pops open two beers and hands me one.


    “You look happy,” I say.


    “I am,” he tells me. “Life is great.”


    I nce down at thebel wrapped around the dark bottle and see it’s a local craft beer that probably has an interesting story behind it. We drink in silence for a moment, the kitchen feeling too normal.


    “Marriage suits you,” I say, watching him subconsciously twist his wedding ring. “Never pictured you so domesticated.”


    “Never pictured you apologizing.” He leans against the counter, smirking. “Guess we’ve both changed.”


    “You do have a point …” I trail off. “I have a lot of regrets in life. I’ll never be able to apologize enough.”


    He smirks. “Save it. I’ve forgiven you. I’m ready to get back to how things used to be. Doesn’t mean it’s not still weird though.”


    “Which part?”


    “All of it. You fucking my ex. Our parents getting married. You being here. Us talking like adults. Me not wanting to punch you in the face.”


    I raise my beer. “Progress. I’ll toast to that.”


    “I have missed you,” he admits. “I sometimes think about the old days, when we didn’t have to worry about anything but where we’d be skiing for the uing season. The slopes here were greatst season.”


    I grin. “Remember when you thought a ck diamond meant to go as fast as possible?”


    He smirks. “Remember your backflip attempt off the lift?”


    “Hey, Inded that shit with flying colors.”


    “Yeah. Younded on your face in front of all those college girls.” He grins.


    “Didn’t stop them froming to my room,” I say, waggling my brows. “We were fearless idiots. Sometimes, I wonder how we survived half of that.”


    “You were an idiot. I was following your lead every single time.”


    It feels good to chat andugh, like old times. It makes me believe that we can salvage something from the wreckage.


    “So,” Zane says too casually, “how long are you staying?”


    “Until November first. I’m on permanent vacation until Asher lets me return.”


    “Uh-oh. Do I even want to know what you did?” His eyebrows rise.


    “I crashed out in a meeting about the human experience,” I admit, not regretting it. “CEO was a punk. Asher said I needed a break. So, here I am.”


    I’m not ready to admit my brother thinks I’m a ghost.


    Zane smirks. “Good choice. When I showed upst season, I wore the same expression you did. Now look at me.”


    I pick at the beerbel. “Yeah, this time, I’m hoping to deal with shit instead of running from it.”


    “n to see Jules?”


    My hand stills. “I invited her to have dinner with me.”


    He considers me for a long moment, then grabs two more beers. “You know that’s Autumn’s bestie …”


    “I’m not here to use her. It’s not like that with us. We just … talk.”


    “Good.” He slides the beer across the counter. “Because Autumn will make you regret your life choices, and I won’t be able to stop her.”


    As if summoned by her name, the front door swings open.


    Bags rustle, and Autumn immediately speaks. “Zane, my love! I was just at the coffee shop, and you’ll never believe who—” Autumn rounds the corner and stops dead in her tracks. “Oh. You’re here.”


    “Long time no see,” I offer.


    Autumn stalks into the kitchen with determination, setting everything down on the counter. She kisses Zane hello, but her eyes assess me.


    “You’re back,” she says.


    “Here I am.”


    She grabs a beer from the fridge, pops it open, and takes a sip. “For how long this time? Please say longer than three days because that was very annoying.”


    “Six weeks. I can’t return to the city until after November first. Per my asshole little brother.”


    “Hmm.” She hops up on the counter. “You look tired.”


    I wasn’t expecting that. “I’m exhausted by everything.”


    Autumn studies me, then seems to make a decision. “Look, I’m going to be straight with you.”


    My brows lift, and I nce at Zane, who chugs his beer. “Okay …”


    “Jules is my person. My bestie since we were kids. My chosen sister in every way that matters.” She swallows hard. “And you, Nick Banks, have a very bad reputation. I googled you.”


    “Happy to know you’ve done your research,” I offer, smirking.


    She sets down her beer and meets my eyes. “The universe is invested in the two of you because you keep popping up at the right time.”


    Zane groans. “Autumn, don’t start with the universe stuff.”


    “I’m just saying.” She turns to me. “Maybe you and Julie can help each other.”


    “Really? How?” I take two gulps of my beer.


    “Well, for starters, she needs a fake boyfriend to slide in when her shitty ex tries to win her back.”


    Zane res at her. “Craig is back?”


    “I assume Craig is the ex?” I ask.


    “Yes,” they both say, annoyingly, at the same time.


    “Tell me about him,” I say.


    Autumn groans. “He’s Julie’s really shitty, sorry excuse of an ex. She has a hard time resisting him, and he just uses her. Promises her the world, gets what he wants, then leaves again. It’s a toxic cycle that has to stop. I do not want her in his arms this fall.”


    I take several gulps of my beer. “How can I help?”


    “Be aware.” She hops off the counter. “Craig will try to win her back. Julie needs someone who will keep her away from that son of a bitch.” Autumn looks annoyed. “He always treated her like she was too much and not enough. That’s Craig Downer. He’s his namesake.” Her jaw tightens. “I want her to forget he exists.”


    “Autumn, I can’tmit to anything,” I say.


    “My bestie doesn’t need amitment.” She sighs. “She needs a distraction.”


    Zane stands and pulls some chopped watermelon from the fridge. “He asked her to dinner tonight.”


    Autumn’s eyes widen. “Yes!”


    “It’s a friendly dinner. That’s it. I owe her an apology for being a dickhead and not responding to her texts.”


    “That’s a start.” She grabs some fruit. “Want a piece of advice?”


    “I bet you’re going to give it to me anyway.”


    She grins and heads toward the stairs. “You’re right. You have six weeks, Nick. Make them count. The universe doesn’t give fourth chances.”


    Secondster, she disappears, leaving me with Zane.


    “Is she trying to hook me up with her best friend?” I ask, surprised.


    “I have no idea,” he offers. “But you two would be good together.”


    I check the time. “Shit. I should probably get going. I’m cooking penne a vodka.”


    “Really?” He’s smirking.


    “What?”


    He shakes his head. “Nothing.”


    Zane walks me to the door.


    “Let’s not be strangers while I’m here, okay?”


    “You’re the one who left early in January,” he says. “But I’m d you’re back. The mountain air has a way of healing someone. I came herest year and found myself.”


    I chuckle. “I hope I’m as lucky.”


    He ps me on the shoulder. “You will be. Just go with the flow. Learn to be spontaneous. Follow your heart. That’s the magic of Cozy Creek. Also, if dinner turns into a disaster, don’t panic. Call Cozy Pizza; they’ll deliver. Julie’s order is thick crust with pepperoni, mushrooms, and extra ck olives.”


    “Thanks,” I say.


    He grins. “Six weeks, man. Hope you have the autumn of your life.”


    “I hope I do too.”


    Zane leans forward and pulls me into a brotherly hug. He holds me tight, and it’s only then that I realize how much I’ve missed him.


    “I’ll see you.”


    “See you,” he says.


    I get in the Range Rover and take the switchbacks down the mountain to the road where the Riverside cabin is. I follow the gravel to the end until I approach the home. Calling this ce a cabin is ridiculous. I think it has ten bedrooms and eight baths, and it’s pure luxury with marble floors and countertops.


    When I walk in, I admire the vaulted ceilings, exposed beams, oversized firece, and a kitchen that puts my state-of-the-art penthouse to shame. I unpack groceries because, tonight, I’m making one of my sister’s favorite recipes, one I haven’t made in years. I set the bags on the counter, then wash my hands before I get to work.


    Prep goes smoothly until I reach for the bottle of booze, realizing it’s missing. I walk out to the Range Rover to make sure it didn’t fall out, but it’s not there. Before I panic, I check the cabs to see if anyone happened to leave vodka behind, but there’s nothing other than a bottle of unopened tequ.


    “Shit,” I hiss, checking the time.


    It’s already six o’clock, and the store is twenty minutes away. It’s not enough time.


    I stare at the sautéed garlic, onions, and tomato paste, knowing I need the vodka now.


    After I release a long sigh, I grab my phone and call Cozy Pizza to order.


    By the time I’ve changed clothes and hidden all evidence of my attempt at making a nice dinner, it’s seven o’clock. The pizza arrives on time, and after I tip the delivery guy, I scan the driveway.


    At 7:10 p.m., I pour a ss of wine and check my phone. Maybe she’s runningte.


    After I read thest text she sent me, it only confirms that I deserve to be ghosted.


    Unknown


    Thinking about you.


    I remember I was at a swanky party with Asher and his fiancée, Billie Calloway. I could’ve responded, but what would I have said?


    You’ve been on my mind since we met?


    We’d both made it very clear that neither of us was in the right space for a rtionship. Friends only. But then she sends me texts like that.


    Another ten minutes pass, and I’m convinced she’s noting.


    After I gave her months of silence, I expected us to pick up as friends? How truly fucking delusional and presumptuous am I?


    By seven thirty, I swallow down the rest of my ss of wine and refill it. When I open the lid of the pizza box, I notice headlights sweep across the windows.


    I freeze and move toward the kitchen window watching Jules park. She sits in her car for a while. She’s officially thirty-five minuteste.


    Get out of the car and join me. Please.


    Eventually, she does. She’s wearing a brown sweater and tight jeans and carrying a bottle of wine in her hand. She takes her time strolling to the door, almost as if she’s still deciding if she should turn around.


    I open the door before she can knock.


    “You’rete,” I say.


    “You noticed.” She studies me, then smiles. “I was trying to decide if this was a terrible idea.”


    “What’s the verdict?”


    “Jury’s still out.” She steps past me into the house. “But I brought more wine for us, so I’mmitted to at least an hour of fun.”


    “Fair enough.” I let her in, closing the door behind her. She smells like wildflowers and a dash of vani. “I ordered pizza. My cooking ns fell through.”


    Her emerald eyes sparkle, and her red hair glows in this light as she turns to me. “What happened?”


    I hear the concern in her voice.


    “Turns out vodka sauce needs vodka. Who knew?”


    Sheughs, and the sound echoes off the vaulted ceiling. “You forgot the main ingredient?”


    “It was a travel day, and I’ve had a lot of shit on my mind,” I admit.


    “Clearly.” She sets her wine on the counter and notices the packaging in the trash. “You bought fresh penne from Marcello’s?”


    “You know it?”


    “Who doesn’t? Fancy.” She touches the package. “You were actually going to cook for me.”


    “Of course. But also, don’t sound so surprised. I know how to cook,” I exin. “I can be domestic when needed.”


    “Really? I learn something new about you every time we’re together.”


    “I’ve missed your fire,” I tell her.


    Sheughs. “I could say the same about you.”


    I slide a te from the cab and hand it to her with a napkin. “I’m d you came. I thought you weren’t.”


    “Truthfully, I wasn’t, but I flipped a coin.” She opens the pizza box and grins. “My favorite. Lucky guess?”


    “Zane told me,” I say. “Wait, wait. You flipped a coin?”


    She nods. “I even did the best two out of three. Then I did three of five. The answer was clear, so here I am.”


    I snatch a piece of pizza from the box and take a bite. Julie does the same.


    “Sorry it’s cold,” I offer.


    “My fault,” she says, covering her mouth with her hand as she speaks. “You know, the night we met, I thought I’d never see you again.”


    The words hang between us as I grab her a winess and fill it.


    “I thought you were just some guy passing through town. If I’d known you’d keep showing up, I might have kept some things to myself,” she says.


    “I’m d you didn’t.”


    She plucks a ck olive off the top of her slice. “Can I ask you something?”


    “Anything.”


    Her voice softens. “Why didn’t you text me back?”


    A breath releases from me. “I didn’t know what to say.”


    “I can ept that,” she says. “But I can’t be ghosted by people who try to call themselves friends.”


    I nod. “You’re absolutely right. I should’ve done better, and I apologize. You’ll never have to worry about not getting a response from me again. Apparently, I’ve been needing to work on my human connections, and since I left the city, that has be my new priority.”


    “Wow. Thank you,” she says.


    We stand in the kitchen, eating pizza and drinking wine, and I feel something shift. The awkwardness slowly melts away.


    “God, I’ve been lonely,” she admits as we move to the couch. “Is that weird to say?”


    “Not if it’s the truth.” I grab the remote and flick on the gigantic television that fills the wall. “Lately, I’ve felt the same. It’s almost like I’ve been living the same day over and over again; it was a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Then I lost my shit in a meeting, and here we are.”


    Her eyes are kind as she takes another bite of pizza. “I’m happy you’re here.”


    “I am too.”


    She raises her ss. “To friendship. And answered texts. And remembering the vodka next time.”


    “To having the best damn autumn of our lives,” I counter, excited for pumpkin patches and apple cider.


    “Amen.”


    We clink sses, and her smile is worth every minute I spent panicking that she wouldn’t show.


    “So,” she says, settling in, “catch me up on your so-called life. I need entertainment with my pizza.”


    “Only if you share.”


    “Deal. But don’t you dare skip the embarrassing parts.”


    I lean against the cushions, careful to keep a distance between us. “Okay, but remember, you asked for this …”


    And just like that, we fall into a rhythm, like the eight months that separated us never happened. We’re just two people who found each other again at the right moment. We’re honest and raw. I tell her about work, and she talks about the coffee shop. This is the friendship I’ve been missing.


    We talk until the pizza box is empty and the second bottle of wine is almost gone. She throws her head back andughs at my stupid jokes. Throughout the night, I can’t stop staring at her lips.


    “Your turn,” I say after I exin one of my embarrassing rtionship moments.


    She grows quiet, spinning her winess. “My ex-fiancé, Craig, showed up at my parents’ anniversary party with his new girlfriend three months after our engagement ended.” She looks up at me. “Want to know the pathetic part?”


    I move closer without meaning to. “Tell me.”


    “For about thirty seconds, I thought he was there to win me back. After everything, some stupid part of me thought …” She shakes her head. “Anyway, he just wanted to return my grandmother’s ring in front of everyone.”


    “Jules—”


    “His new fiancée was wearing a ne I’d bought him to celebrate our second anniversary.” Sheughs, but I hear the pain. “So, yeah, that’s my most embarrassing. Nothing beats being reminded very publicly that you’re receable.”


    “You’re not.”


    “Everyone’s receable.”


    “I don’t believe that.” I set my ss down and turn to her until we’re facing each other. Our legs briefly touch, and I can see the gold flecks in her green eyes. “Some people leave marks on you and make it impossible to go back to who you were before you knew them.”


    She stares up at me. “Do you really believe that?”


    “Yeah. You’re unforgettable, Little Red.”


    The air between us shifts. Her lips part slightly.


    “We’re friends,” she whispers.


    “We are friends.”


    “Friends don’t look at each other like this.”


    “How?” I ask.


    “Like …” She sets her wine down and shifts toward me.


    We’re too close now.


    Neither of us moves.


    She sucks in a breath. “Nick, I?—”


    The doorbell rings, shattering the moment.


    We jump apart like teenagers caught by their parents. Jules smooths her sweater, looking everywhere but at me.


    I answer the door to find a woman in her sixties, holding a clear dish.


    “Hi! I’m She Galloway. I own the ce and rented it to you. Just wanted toe and give you a warm wee and a fresh pumpkin pie.”


    She nces around me and spots Julie on the couch like a typical nosy, small-town neighbor.


    “Oh! Julie? I didn’t know you two knew each other,” she says over my shoulder.


    “Hi, Mrs. Galloway.” Julie appears beside me, cheeks flushed. “I was actually just leaving.”


    “Don’t go on my ount, dear. You two continue your date; don’t let me interrupt.”


    “It’s not a date,” Jules says.


    “We’re just friends,” I add, knowing how rumors start in small towns.


    Mrs. Galloway looks between us with knowing eyes. “Well, regardless, enjoy the pie. I n on winning the pie baking contest with that very recipe. Hope I can count on your vote.” She leaves with a wink.


    The door closes, and Julie groans, pulling her keys from her pocket. “Great! Mrs. Galloway will tell the entire town I was here.”


    “And? I can’t let you leave,” I tell her, gently pulling her to me. “You’ve had too much to drink.”


    Her cheeks are flushed, and she breathes out, “I’ll call Autumn to pick me up.”


    “Just stay,” I say. “I don’t bite.”


    She narrows her eyes. “Yes, you do.”


    “No way I’m letting anything happen to you.”


    Her face softens, and she chews on the inside of her cheek. “You’re a bad influence.”


    “Undeniably,” I say with a smirk. “But bad influences have the most fun and make the best of friends.”


    She yfully rolls her eyes but finally sets her keys down. “Promise to be a gentleman?”


    “I always am.” My voice is casual, even as my pulse speeds up. “Honestly, this house is huge. Any bed is yours. What’s the worst that could happen?”


    Her eyes swirl with amusement and skepticism. “That sounds like someone’s famousst words.”