Page 34 of Falling for Autumn Again

“Settle down, grumpy Gus,” Meg whispers as if I’m a five-year-old. “What’s gotten into you?”

“That’s not impressive, Autumn. My Billie’s got one just like it at home.” Paul sniffs, his eyes bouncing apathetically to my bedazzled cowboy hat.

Billie, next to Paul, turns around. “That thing is from school—but I’d never put it back on again.” She wrinkles her nose, telling me how unimpressed she is with my wardrobe choice tonight.

“So, maybe not one of a kind,” Meg whispers. “Billie’s got one too.”

I shush her before she can say anymore.

“Can I see the back?” Paul asks Ezra—over his stupid Yankee baseball cap.

Ezra pulls it off his head, his hair mussed beneath. He holds it out to Paul, then runs a hand over the short beard on his chin.

Paul looks at the back andoohsover whatever it is he sees there. I’m guessing Ezra’s sweat line isn’t all that awe-inspiring.

“You want it?” Ezra says. “I can always get another.”

“Really?” Paul looks like he’s seven instead of the thirty-year-old who was three grades ahead of us in high school.

“For heaven’s sake! It’s a baseball cap! Half the men here have one on.” I fling my hand, pointing to the crowd. “Not all thatimpressive, Paul!”

But what’s really unimpressive is how my hand flings right into Billie’s hand, the one holding her Diet Coke—the drink shestood in line for thirty-two minutes to get. She missed kickoff and the Dogs song and— That dumb Diet Coke goes flying, the lid spinning off like a loose frisbee in the wind. And because Billie’s fingers are all butter, the cup tips and wobbles until every last drop of its contents is evicted—right into Paul’s new hat.

Chapter Fifteen

Ezra

“I’m so sorry, Paul!”And while her words are sincere, Autumn sends me an unyielding glare.

How is this my fault? Sure, I may have been flaunting the fact that I live in New York—just a little, just to get under her skin, but I didn’t smack my hand into Billie’s soda.

“I’ll get you a new one,” she says, dabbing the tail of her flannel shirt over the splatter on Paul’s hands. “From Amazon. Two-day shipping,” she says, though everyone knows that even Prime takes a week to get anything to Love.

“That’s not gen-u-ine.” Paul stares at the brown stain covering the gray of his new cap.

Autumn groans. “I’m sure I can find you one exactly like this. You can keep my prairie dog hat as a place saver.” She holds out her straw cowboy hat to the man.Paul. I didn’t remember his name until Autumn said it.

“He doesn’t want your old straw hat,” Billie says. “And what about my Diet Coke?”

Autumn huffs, clearly flustered. “I’ll get you a new one. One sec.” She stands and the crowd behind us groans. She’s blocking their view—and Gavin Frady is headed toward the end zone. Sheinches her way in front of the crowd because, like always, Autumn’s chosen the very middle seat in the stands.

A boom crashes into the night and smoke fills the air—I missed it, I was too busy watching Autumn, but the Dogs have scored.

"Man, thanks a lot, Autumn." A man just behind her groans. Apparently, he missed the touchdown too.

As if on instinct—as if I were ten years younger and our lives were still intertwined—I stand and follow after her, ensuing another bout of moans from the spectators behind us.

Autumn’s friend Meg watches as I crawl past annoyed fans and grumbling Prairie Dogs. “Take her hat,” she whisper-yells my way. She stands and leans over a couple to shove the hat into my hands.

I grasp a hold of it on instinct.

Why do I need this? But looking up again, Autumn’s hair is somehow mashed to her head and flying out all at the same time. She trots down the bleacher stairs in cowboy boots… the same boots she wore in high school. I’d know those red ropers anywhere.

“Is that Ezra Bennett?” someone behind me says—who knew it would be such big news for me to come home?

“Chasing after Autumn Green.Figures,” says another woman.

I never had to chase Autumn before. She was always happy to be glued to my hip.

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