Page 16 of Love to Hate You

“Did Autumn mention when she was supposed to arrive?” Summer tried to hide the hurt in her voice over her sister deciding to drive herself. In all the time they’d come to Mystic they’d never driven separately.

“She’s arrived,” came a singsong voice that was exactly like Summer’s but somehow sultry.

Two arms came around Summer’s waist and her sister planted her cheek between Summer’s shoulder blades. And just like that, her chest which had been slowly seeping air for the past month filled back up.

She turned in her sister’s arms and hugged her fiercely, and a bottomless peace and contentment swept through her. While Frank might hold the title of Best Russo Hugger, nothing beat the feeling of being with her twin.

“What did I miss?” Autumn asked, hoisting herself up on the counter.

Today she was dressed casual-chic, in an off-the-shoulder, sage green sundress paired with strappy heels and sunglasses on top of her head. Her golden, glossy hair was longer than Summer’s and her skin was the perfect balance of matte and dewy. She looked like she was heading off to a photo shoot.

Summer, on the other hand, looked like she’d just woken up from sleeping on the couch. Her hair was sticking out of its ponytail holder, her bottoms were pajamas, and she was pretty sure she had a little drool dried in the corner of her mouth.

“That your aunt didn’t knead the dough enough,” Mom said.

“Too much and it’s tough, too little and it won’t hold together. It was the right amount of pressure. You just wait and see.” Cecilia tapped her forehead, leaving behind a light dusting of flour. “I have a feeling about these things. It’s my—”

“Third eye,” everyone said in unison.

Aunt Cecilia had spent thirty years running her own homemade pasta company and a lifetime telling people she could see the future. Blanche called it intuition. Cecilia called it “The Sight.” When Summer was young, she used to believe that her aunt could see the future—and sometimes, when she was feeling wistful, she still did.

“What do you see in Summer’s future?” Autumn asked, and Cecilia closed her eyes and began to hum. “A man. A good Italian man. Maybe a tall, dark, and sexy suit.”

The last thing Summer needed was another stuffed suit in her life. “Hard pass. Maybe a firefighter or a paratrooper.”

“Firefighters are too clichéd for you and paratroopers are notorious for having bad knees,” Autumn said. “You don’t want some guy hobbling behind you your whole life. You need someone sophisticated and steady, who is passionate.”

“Have you been talking to Cleo?”

“My guides are telling me that your sister is right,” Cecilia said. “He’s not what you expect but he’s more than he appears. And he’s right around the corner.”

Autumn pinched off a piece of dough and Summer smacked her hands.

“Ow!”

“These are for dinner.”

“Your sister’s right,” Mom said. “If you want something to eat there’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge.”

“Tattletale,” Autumn whispered, then suddenly her eyes went wide. “I have a surprise for you.”

Summer’s heart bubbled up with delight and she clapped her hands with excitement. She loved surprises. The anticipation, the not knowing, the unexpectedness of it all. Surprises were like sitting down with a new book where the buildup ended with a satisfying and heartwarming conclusion.

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you. I have to show you.” Autumn hopped off the counter and looped her arm through Summer’s, and led her to the front door and out onto the porch just as a car parked. “I brought him all the way back from Europe.”

“Him?” Summer asked, squinting to see through the front window of the very expensive Aston Martin. “You’ve never brought a ‘him’ home before. Especially not to our family vacation, where your last name has to be Russo to get an invite.”

Autumn bounced on her toes, her smile so bright it warmed the entire space. “He’s special. Wait till you meet him.”

Before Summer could ask who “him” was, her sister was bounding down the wood-flanked stairs and tossing herself into the arms of a hot guy. Not Summer’s kind of hot, more of a thirst-trap, frat-bro kind of hot. But the smile on Autumn’s face said everything Summer needed to know.

She was in love.

Which made not one iota of sense. Summer was the one who wanted marriage and forever. Autumn was the queen of the four-week fling.

After a long and inappropriate show of PDA, Autumn took the guy by the hand and guided him up to the porch. “Summer, this is Randy. Randy, this is the best sister in the whole world.”

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