Page 7 of Before You Say Goodbye

Was he asking her to dinner? She was surprised. She hadn’t sensed any hint of an attraction to her while they’d been chatting. She was wearing a dress that showed a little cleavage and a lot of leg, but his eyes had been firmly fixed on hers, except when he was looking at the floor. She’d be lying if she said that hadn’t been alluring. Autumn was pretty. Men usually let her know that they thought so. She found herself smiling and shaking her head.

“There’s a place around the corner that makes great cake,” he said.

Not dinner. Cake. Was that the same thing? She found herself hoping so. Despite her looming meeting, she wasn’t ready to go home yet and she had no desire to be out by herself. She opened her mouth to answer, but Bowie broke their lingering eye contact to watch an approaching rabble. His twin brother was among a small group of jovial men and women. The siblings caught sight of each other and grinned.

The resemblance between them was breathtaking. Autumn searched frantically for differences. Marley was slightly taller, but not by much. Bowie had a small freckle beneath one eye, and Marley had one ear pierced several times against the single, delicate silver hoop in Bowie’s left lobe. Marley had slightly longer and darker hair, and his demeanour was much more relaxed than his brother’s. He was quite clearly a man who was very comfortable with who he was and how he looked. Bowie, despite their likeness, didn’t seem so sure. They embraced.

“This is Bluebell’s friend, Autumn.” Bowie gestured. She liked the way he said her name. As though she was a really big deal. Urging herself not to blush, she took Marley’s hand and shook it.

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Marley said.

“Nice to meet you.” Autumn smiled.

“You too.” He dropped her hand. “My sister says you’re the most liberal woman she’s ever met. That’s a lot, coming from Bluebell.”

Autumn laughed. Bowie agreed with a nod. He opened his mouth to speak, but Marley jumped in again before he could.

“They don’t make many women more liberal than Bluebird.” He grinned. Bluebell had told Autumn once that her brothers called her that to annoy her. It was interchangeable with ‘blueberry’ and ‘bluebottle’, depending on how they were feeling.

“That’s definitely true,” Autumn said.

“If you’re even half as liberal as she is—” Autumn knew Marley was working hard to hold her attention. Beside him, Bowie was looking at the ground — “New York had better look out.”

“It’s far too late to save New York,” Autumn said jokingly. Marley laughed.

“Good for you.”

They were silent while he looked her up and down. Autumn was used to the eyes of men upon her, but she found herself blushing under his gaze. She wondered if he was imagining her naked. When he was done, he turned to Bowie.

“Have you asked her out already?”

Bowie laughed nervously.

“We’re going for cake,” Autumn answered for him.

“Damn,” Marley said. She could tell he didn’t really care. He was attracted to her, but there was a gaggle of girls waiting eagerly for him by the door. The tension between them was palpable. Still, she wasn’t sure Bluebell would approve. And she was not there to ask. So, though Marley was undeniably sexy, eating cake with Bowie was a much better idea.

“I’m bailing,” Marley said. “I’ll handle your absence with Mum if you need me to.”

“Thanks.” Bowie blushed, smiling a little sheepishly at Autumn. The brothers embraced again. Autumn wasn’t sure if she’d had two hugs in her entire life from her own sibling.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Marley quipped as he left.

“That doesn’t leave much,” Bowie called after him, waiting until his brother was gone before he met her eyes again. Despite being the eldest of Bluebell’s five siblings, he was obviously the less dominant twin. How was it she knew useless information like that but had not known they were twins?

Bowie was silent, so Autumn brought the conversation back to cake.

“So. This café . . .” she said, stepping out into the corridor and waiting for him to fall into step beside her. He grinned and blushed, and Autumn was floored. There it was again, the same fuzzy feeling she’d experienced the day she’d met Bluebell, stronger than it had been then, and a little dizzying this time.

* * *

Bowie took her to a tiny café. They ordered a pot of tea to share and a piece of cake each. Autumn would usually be drunk or high by now, but was surprised to find she was enjoying this just as much. She liked the atmosphere. The place was almost empty, except for a few trendy-looking couples. There was a man playing piano in the corner, and the walls were adorned with music posters and adverts for guitar lessons.

They’d met less than an hour ago, but Autumn, enraged by a man on the street who’d bashed into her rather than move himself, was already setting out her stance on women’s rights. She did so over the first thing she had eaten all day, which happened to be the best lemon drizzle cake she had ever tasted. Bowie listened to her intently, waiting until she was fully finished before he offered his own opinion.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said, before grinning. “In the best way possible, you sound just like Bluebell. I can see why she likes you so much.”

Though she had already known how Bluebell felt about her, his words made Autumn beam. Her new best friend was not, as promised, a person who hid her feelings when she loved a person, but it was nice to hear it from someone else.

---