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He gives me a look.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Autumn.”

“No. You listen to me.” I step directly in front of him. “I didn’t fall in love with you because you could ride a motorcycle or lift heavy things or look good without a shirt.”

“Although those were compelling qualities.”

“Extremely compelling. Especially the shirt thing.”

His mouth twitches.

“But that’s not why I loved you.”

He goes still.

I swallow.

“I loved you because you were kind to people who didn’t deserve it. Because you always made sure I got home safe. Because you pretended to hate my terrible jokes but laughed anyway.”

“Your jokes are still terrible.”

“And because you loved your little brother more than anything in the world.”

His expression closes.

I reach for his hand.

He lets me take it.

“I never blamed you, Gray. Not for the accident. Not for leaving. I knew you were hurting. I just wished you’d let me hurt with you.”

He looks away.

For a moment, neither of us speaks.

Then I glance around the room.

“You know, this place looks like Dracula got a divorce and kept the furniture.”

A sound escapes him.

Short. Rough.

I blink.

Then he laughs.

Not much. Just a low, reluctant chuckle that seems to surprise him as much as it surprises me.

But it’s real.

And for one glorious second, I hear the boy who used to laugh with me until we couldn’t breathe.

I smile.