Page 28 of Sins of Autumn

We talked a little after that—well, as much as one semi-drunk and one fully drunk girl could manage. Our words were slurred and scattered, the conversation weaving between nonsense and fleeting moments of seriousness.

At some point, her breathing evened out, and I knew she’d fallen asleep. I was on the verge of drifting off myself when I heard the door open again. Moose let out a soft huff but didn’t move.

I cracked my eyes open just enough to see Ryan standing in the doorway. His expression softened as he took in the scene—the two of us squished onto the bed, Cherish half-sprawled across me, Moose taking up the rest of the space.

Without a word, he grabbed the comforter from Cherish’s bed and draped it over us, tucking it in gently before retreating. I let my eyes close again, a faint smile on my lips.

I woke to the sensation of being shoved halfway off the bed and sunlight streaming through the windows, blinding and relentless. My head throbbed as I squinted against the light, groaning. Cherish had sprawled out in her sleep, taking up most of the bed, her arm flung carelessly over where I’d been lying.

“Cherish,” I griped, carefully maneuvering myself off the edge without falling. My headache pounded with each small movement. I looked down at myself and saw I was in sweatpants and a WOW sweatshirt—sans bra and underwear. I didn’t remember putting clothes on, but I had to be pretty damn out of it to skip those.

I looked around and saw Moose was no longer on the bed. I frowned, scanning the room. He wasn’t sprawled out on the floor or curled up by the door. He wasn’t anywhere. Carefully, I grabbed the blanket Cherish had kicked off and pulled it back over her.

She shifted but didn’t wake, mumbling something incoherent into the pillow.

“Moose?” I called softly, stepping into the hallway. The house was eerily quiet. I glanced toward the windows in the dining area. Judging by the light, it had to be midmorning, maybe later. Everyone else must’ve still been asleep. As I walked past the dining room, I stopped short.

Jason was asleep on top of the table. His hair was a mess, one sock was missing and Sharpie doodles were covering his face. Someone, or maybe himself, had draped the rug from the living room over him like a makeshift blanket.

“What the hell did I miss last night?” I murmured as I moved on, continuing my search for my dog.

I wandered through the living room, then the kitchen, growing more uneasy with every empty corner I passed. My steps slowed when I felt a faint breeze, cool and insistent.

Following it, I paused, my stomach dropping as I stared at the enclosed porch. The door to the outside was wide open, swaying slightly in the breeze.

“No, no, no,” I whispered, the panic rising in my chest as I did the math. Moose wasn’t in the house. The door was open.

He’d gone outside.

“Moose!” I called, my voice a little louder now as I stepped onto the porch and peered into the yard. Nothing but trees and an empty lawn greeted me. “Moose?”

Silence.

Shit.

I turned and jogged back inside, my heart pounding. There was no way I was about to take off into the woods without my phone, but the problem was I didn’t have it. Naija had taken the box of phones after we’d all tossed ours in, and now I had no idea where it was.

“Where the hell did she leave it?”

I darted from room to room, my panic growing with every passing second. I had no way of knowing how long the door had been open or how far Moose could’ve gone.

“Autumn?” Ryan’s groggy voice called out from somewhere behind me. I turned to find him standing in the foyer, his hair messy and his expression still half-asleep.

“Do you know where Naija left the phones?” I asked quickly, barely pausing.

He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “No. What’s wrong?”

“My dog’s gone,” I divulged, the panic evident in my voice. “If anyone asks where I am, tell them—”

“I’ll go with you,” he interrupted.

“You don’t need to—”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees, Autumn,” he needlessly reminded me, cutting me off again. “Let me put something on first.”

It was only then that I noticed he was standing there in nothing but boxer shorts and a t-shirt, his long frame looking both casual and utterly unbothered. Any other time it might’ve been funny, but I was too wound up to care.

“Fine, but hurry,” I stressed, pacing back and forth as he turned to head back to his room.

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