Chapter 1: The Puppy Bites Back

I thought he was just a sweet little puppy, all floppy ears and big eyes, but it wasn’t until after I broke up with him—yeah, let him go—that I realized something: even puppies have teeth. Turns out, the bite hurts more when you never saw it coming.

That truth? Man, it hits you out of nowhere—like one of those cold snaps in late November that slaps you awake and makes you feel a little stupid for not grabbing a jacket. I always figured I was running the show, the one calling the shots. But even the most loyal puppy can snap back when you least expect it. Honestly, it’s kind of humbling.

“Everything I have is yours, sis. Why do you still wanna leave me?”

His voice still bounces around in my head, sharp with hurt and confusion that gets me right here—like a sucker punch straight to the chest. He always had that little brother vibe, even when he was being stubborn as hell. Guess I never realized how much power that gave him over me until it was way too late. Funny how that works, right?

If I can’t give a guy a place to belong, then what’s the point of all the stuff that’s mine—my looks, my body, my manners, my morals, even my soul? Kinda feels like it’s all just sitting there, wasted.

I used to toss lines like that around with this cocky, careless bravado—like I was starring in some old black-and-white movie as the femme fatale. Did I actually buy into it? Not really. It was just easier than admitting I was terrified of being alone. Who isn’t?

When my best friend heard me say that, she flipped me off—hard. Like, didn’t even hesitate.

She said, “Autumn Reed, you’re gonna get what’s coming to you, sooner or later.”

She always busts out my full name when she’s serious, like she’s about to ground me or something. I just scoffed, acting like she was being dramatic. But deep down, I wondered if maybe she was onto something.

But karma? It came way faster than I expected.

Seriously, it always does, doesn’t it? One minute you’re cruising, and the next—bam—you’re skidding across black ice, arms flailing. No warning. No mercy.

On the third day of Thanksgiving break, I brought home the guy who’d been chasing me for three weeks straight.

Thanksgiving break in Maple Heights is all burnt leaves and cinnamon in the air, the whole town either holed up with family or out drinking with friends. I was somewhere in the middle, trying to drown out the silence with company.

His name was Marcus Ellis, a senior partner at a law firm. Yeah, that Marcus Ellis.

Marcus had the kind of confidence you only get from winning too many cases and knowing you look damn good in a suit. He was the type of guy moms adore and dads give a grudging handshake to.

We met at a business conference. He helped me sidestep pushy guys, always polite and attentive. After a few rounds of playful banter, we started to actually get to know each other.

There was something almost old-school about the way he watched out for me at the conference, steering me away from creeps and making sure I drank water instead of whiskey. Honestly, it was almost charming—almost.

I was pretty happy with Marcus, so I figured, why not? Let the guy chase me a bit. I let him think he was winning me over. It was kind of fun.

That night, as he drove me home, the sky just opened up and dumped buckets. I invited him up to my apartment to dry off. Maybe it was the rain, or maybe it was the look he gave me. Either way, I didn’t really think twice.

The rain was relentless, beating down on the car roof as we pulled up. For a second, I hesitated—maybe it was the way the streetlights made the rain look like falling stars, or maybe it was just Marcus, all patient smiles. Before I knew it, I heard myself say, “Come on up, let’s get you dry.”

“Here, dry off.” I smiled, handing him a freshly unwrapped towel from the linen closet.

I picked out the softest one, the one that still smelled like lavender from the last laundry day. Little things, right?

Marcus took it, nodded his thanks, and after a pause, stepped a little closer.

The space between us disappeared, and suddenly the air was thick. Marcus caught my gaze. “Autumn... mind if I use your bathroom?”

His voice was low—one of those tones that makes you hyper-aware of your own heartbeat. I was just about to answer when a loud knock split the moment right in half.

I didn’t even bother with an expression—I just opened the door. And there he was: a drenched young man, crouched on the mat, staring up at me with the saddest puppy-dog eyes.

He looked like a total disaster—hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping everywhere, shivering just enough to make me feel guilty. The kind of sight you’d see in one of those Sarah McLachlan commercials for stray pets. Cue the sad music, right?

A few stubborn strands of wet hair stuck to his forehead, water still dripping down. He looked like a pitiful, abandoned mutt—my own stray, apparently.

Honestly, I just wanted to slam the door in his annoyingly handsome face. Seriously, can’t I have one normal night?

But Marcus was right behind me. “Autumn, this is...?”

His eyebrows shot up, polite but clearly confused. The whole scene was awkward enough to make me wish I could just melt into the floor.

I had no choice but to let Ben Carter in. Like I had any say in it.

Turning, I introduced him to Marcus. “This is my younger brother. He’s still at State U.”

I said it with a straight face, praying Ben would play along. The lie came out smooth, like I’d practiced—which, let’s be real, I kind of had.

“Oh, your brother, my apologies.” Marcus took my word for it, turned, and reached out to Ben.

Ben, meanwhile, was already drying his face with a pink towel from my bathroom. He tossed the towel around his neck with one hand, shook Marcus’s hand with the other, then turned to me.

“Hey, sis, this isn’t the same guy from last time.”

His voice was casual, but there was this wicked glint in his eye—mischievous, daring me to react. I wanted to kick him right then and there.

As soon as he finished, I caught Marcus’s face twitching.

When I saw Marcus out, his eyes kept darting between me and Ben, like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle.

He asked, “Autumn, are you two really siblings?”

The suspicion in his voice was almost funny. You could practically hear the gears grinding in his lawyer brain.

Ben immediately threw his arm around my neck, pressing his face close to mine. I shoved him away, but he just grinned wider.

“Of course we are! She calls my dad ‘dad,’ I call her mom ‘mom.’ How are we not real siblings?”

“Isn’t that right, dear sister?” He leaned his head toward me. Poor guy—at 6'2", he even had to stoop to get close.

Marcus left, totally confused. Like, good luck untangling that, buddy.

As soon as the door closed, I felt a warm body press against me, and suddenly my toes left the floor.

Ben never respected personal boundaries when he was in a mood. He scooped me up like it was nothing, and I didn’t even have time to yell.

“Sis, you’re so cold to me.”

Warm breath tickled my neck. I met those dark eyes and couldn’t help but shiver.

There’s no real autumn in Maple Heights. Yesterday, it was over ninety and sunny; today, after a thunderstorm, it’s dropped below fifty. Midwest weather—gotta love it. Or not.

On rainy days like this, my hands and feet always get cold. Ben notices before I do, every single time.

Ben knows this. He carried me to the sofa, knelt down to take off my slippers, gently peeled off my socks, and then warmed my pale, cold feet in his hands.

His touch was gentle, almost reverent. It would make anyone’s heart skip, but I just felt exposed—like he could see right through every defense I had.

I couldn’t help myself. One hand flew up to cover my burning face as I leaned back on the couch.

“Ben, don’t. We’re done.”

But he ignored me, taking my feet again, holding them gently.

“Your feet look best with a little color.”