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As I take a sip of my beer, I stare out at the skyline of the city from my penthouse apartment. The lights twinkle in the distance and I should be happy here. Content, even. I’m at the top of my game, making millions a year, and yet I can’t seem to reach the level of happiness I want. My last girlfriend had told me I was hollow, just going with the motions and that she felt absolutely nothing from me.
I take a longer sip. I can’t blame her; she’s right. I’ve been going through the motions since I left home right after high school. After the love of my life told me she couldn’t go with me.
Not that I can blame her either, even though I do. Her family has always been close and from the moment we started dating she’d told me she’d never move away. Then I went and feel ass over heels for her. I made the pros and she didn’t follow me. If I’m honest with myself—and I rarely am—I’m ready to forgive her.
An ache builds in my chest at the thought of home, of being surrounded by my family and friends, by her. And now I’ll be home in a few weeks to help with my dad after his hip surgery and I can’t seem to think of much else other than Clover. I haven’t set eyes on her in a decade and suddenly it’s all I want to do. Not only that but I miss home, I miss being surrounded by my family and the small-town community feel. Here in this city I’m surrounded by thousands of people but I never let any of them truly close.
Lately I’ve been thinking about a change. Even though I’m standing in a modern penthouse apartment with more room than I’d ever need, even though I’m the best player on my team, I haven’t signed my contract. It’s sitting on the coffee table behind me, pen next to it, but every time I go to sign my name, my stomach turns. Something is holding me back.
Someone is holding me back.
I turn and stare at the contract like it might jump off the table and strangle me. The tension in my neck and shoulders deepens as I stare at the black type on the white paper and I take a breath to try and relax. Sinking onto the couch, I turn the TV on and blindly flip through channels while I scroll through social media. My personal Instagram with just family members on it has an update and I click on it. It’s a post from my mother (yes, my mother is hip enough to be on Instagram) and my heart slams to a stop in my chest before it kickstarts into a quick rhythm.
Clover is in the picture, smiling out at my mom who’s taken a picture in Clover’s store. My gaze traces over the familiar twinkle in Clover’s eyes, the smooth skin of her neck, the riot of blonde curls surrounding her face. She’s matured in the last ten years, but instead of looking older she looks more beautiful to me. Like she’s grown into the best version of herself. The bohemian look is sexy on her and my eyes dip over her figure. I feel like a voyeur, like this was a private moment between her and my mother and I’m peeking in.
Will she be surprised to see me? Probably not. The rumor mill is already going, I’m sure. I glance at her relaxed smile one more time, trying to commit it to memory. It won’t be showing itself around me at first.
I know what I want to do now. I want to win Clover back. I want her to smile at me that way and not feel bad about it. I want to erase the last ten years or at least make up for them.
I want to move home.
Chapter One
Clover
The excitement starts almost immediately in town, flooding into my store and slapping me in the face as I stand behind the counter checking out Mrs. O’Donnell.
“Did you hear? Sutton’s coming back for the fall,” she says as she takes the burlap bag from me filled with her homemade candles. I’ll have to make more of the Autumn Leaves ones since she just snapped up the last few.
“That’s great,” I murmur. Inside I’m not great, I’m freaking out.
“He’s helping out after his father’s hip surgery. You know how he cares for his parents. It’s precious,” Mrs. O’Donnell goes on.
She has no idea the storm she’s started inside of me. Or maybe she does. I can’t tell if her smile is sly or if she’s being normal, gossipy Mrs. O’Donnell. Everyone in this town knows I broke Sutton’s heart, that I refused to leave with him after high school. It should’ve been old news, but not with Sutton returning to town for the first time in ten years.
“Yes, it is.” I hand her the receipt as the bell over the door clangs. Glancing toward the door, my heart drops straight to my feet. Sutton walks in behind his mother and I forget how to draw air into my lungs. This isn’t fair, I haven’t had time to process his return, much less set eyes on him after a decade.
“Good morning, Clover.” Sutton’s mom, Deborah, stops by the postcards and hand-painted figurines my best friend makes.
I keep my eyes on Deborah, refusing to look at Sutton. “Good morning. How’s Henry doing today?”
“We’ve just got him home from the hospital and he’s just plain grouchy. I had to get out of the house, so I dragged Sutton along. Ashleigh is sitting with him while we run some errands.”
“The twins should keep him occupied.” Sutton’s voice runs along my skin just like it used to. It shouldn’t surprise me that my reaction to him remains unchanged. Granted, I broke his heart but I broke my own as well.
I sneak a peek at him from under my lashes. He’s got a short beard covering his square jaw and I’m dismayed that it suits him. His form is more muscular than when we were in high school and he’s in jeans and t-shirt with a jacket, aviators folded in the v-neck. I’m not sure I’m going to survive this. I’m not sure how I ever survived him.
His warm gaze captures mine and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey, Clover.”
I swallow around the quick lump of emotion forming in my throat. “Hey, Sutton.”
Deborah grabs some lotions and essential oils and sets them on the counter. “We’re having a barbecue tonight around 7pm if you’d like to come.”
“Oh,” I search my brain for any excuse not to go.
“Please say you’ll come. I’ve already gotten confirmations from the rest of your family.” Deborah smiles smugly, knowing she has me. If the rest of my family is going, I can’t say no.
“Sure, I’ll be there.”
