Falling for Autumn
A Novel by Heather Topham Wood
FALLING FOR AUTUMN
Copyright : Heather Topham Wood
Published: April 15, 2014
The right of Heather Topham Wood to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Dedication
To the strong women of the world who refuse to let their scars define them.
“Come to the edge.' 'We can't. We're afraid.' 'Come to the edge.' 'We can't. We will fall!' 'Come to the edge.' And they came. And he pushed them. And they flew.”
― Guillaume Apollinaire
Chapter One
I hated college parties. As a freshman, I understood it was part of the college experience. An escape from curfews and prying parents while learning to be my own person. I didn’t mind the social aspect of it. It was the men I minded—the college boys with their assessing eyes and lecherous grins. I knew what they wanted and I’d die first before I gave it to them.
My roommate, Lexi, shot me a sympathetic look as I shook my head at another drunken boy who tried to grind against my ass. It took him a minute to pick up on my disinterest, but when he found me unmoving against him, he decided to move on to more receptive game.
Classes for the spring semester were starting the next day and our floormate Casey insisted we kick off the semester right by going to a party. The Football House had earned its name from the half dozen or so players living at the off-campus residence. Looking at its rundown exterior, I thought it could be called a few other off-color names, but Casey claimed it would be the best place for us to venture out.
Casey, Lexi, and I made an awkward trio, but our friendship somehow worked. Lexi was quiet and likely spent almost as many hours studying as she did breathing. Her boyfriend, Finn, had a single room two floors above us and she slept there often. Lexi had no idea what a relief it had been when we first met; I needed a kind and understanding roommate and she fit the bill. Her scarcity at night was also a plus—she was rarely around when I yelled out in bed, my adrenaline spiking from the panic attacks that had started two years ago.
Last semester, Casey decided I’d make the ideal friend for her to coax out to assorted campus events. Since I wasn’t interested in hooking up and she was attempting to stay faithful to her boyfriend back home, I’d act as a buffer when she found herself tempted to stray. I usually begged off, but she was particularly insistent that night.
Lexi refilled her blue plastic cup and scrunched up her face in distaste as she took a sip of the keg beer. I refilled mine and I was certain my expression mirrored hers. The beer was flat and warm and I questioned for the hundredth time why I was at the party.
Casey came up from behind and draped her arms across our shoulders. “Lexi and Autumn, can’t you at least try to be social for one night?” Her blue eyes were unfocused, but her voice was laced with disdain. “You’re both sitting in the corner looking like someone died.”
Lexi shot me a look and it silently passed between us that we’d be escorting Casey into her dorm room later. She was underage and it wouldn’t be good at all if our floor’s resident advisor spotted her. We’d have to stealthily sneak her past security and hope she didn’t make a scene in the process.
Checking my watch again, I wondered if Casey would let us leave before midnight. The number of students had thinned out slightly since we arrived a couple of hours ago, but it would probably be at least another hour until Casey would be ready to go.
Most of the crowd was packed into the finished basement of the three-story house. The appeal was the open space and it was where the kegs were kept during the party. One of the guys who lived at the house was also a deejay and had his setup in the far corner. He wasn’t half bad and I liked the sensation of the bass pumping through my blood.
“Holy shit, Autumn! Why is Blake Preston staring at you?” Casey stage whispered. To be heard over the deafening music, the question came out more as a shout.
“Who?” I looked around uncertainly and didn’t notice anyone staring in my direction. “Who’s Blake Preston?”
Lexi laughed while Casey’s jaw dropped. “Do you go to the same college as us? How do you not know Blake Preston?” When I didn’t answer, Casey continued, “He’s a junior and incredibly fucking hot. He’s like the star of our football team. The entire female population gives a collective sigh when he goes out on the field.”
By Casey’s rundown, I immediately knew it wasn’t likely he’d be staring at me. Although I was pretty enough, I purposely downplayed my appearance. My dark blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and I had skipped the eye makeup required to make my honey brown eyes pop. I wore jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Before we left the dorm, Casey tried to march me back to my room to change, but I told her to take me as I was or leave me behind.
I looked around again and found myself drawn in by a pair of gorgeous green eyes. They were spectacular—the color of gemstones—and it took me a while to tear my gaze away and survey the eyes’ owner. He was tall with broad shoulders and I would’ve guessed he was on the team even without Casey revealing his status. His hair was light brown, styled longer in the front and shorter on the sides. My eyes were drawn past his high-sculpted cheekbones to his strong jaw with just the right amount of stubble on his chin. Casey was right—he was fucking hot.
He didn’t appear flirtatious as he watched me from across the room. In fact, he looked at me with disdain, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I narrowed my eyes to let him know that despite his ability to crush me with a single blow, I wasn’t intimidated. He didn’t look away.
I turned back to my friends while the skin on the back of my neck prickled. “You made it sound like he’s checking me out. He’s giving me a pissed off look. I have no idea why, I don’t even know him.”
“That’s not a pissed off look. That’s an ‘I’m hot and I think you’re hot, so let’s get naked together’ look. Autumn, you have to go talk to him,” Casey insisted.
I looked to Lexi for help. “You’re with me, right? He looks like he hates me on sight.”
Lexi shrugged. “I’m not sure. I hear he’s with a lot of girls, so maybe that’s his pick-up technique. He sends them smoldering looks from across
the room at parties and they end up putty in his hands.”
“Then I definitely wouldn’t be interested. I’m not responding to some man whorish jock’s smoldering looks.” I shuddered at the possibility. It had been a mistake coming to the party and expecting the men to be different. I was sure there must be a good guy or two in the bunch, but I had too hard of a shell around me to consider finding him.
I hoped more than ever Lexi would decide to call it a night and give Finn a call to pick us up. Since we were freshmen, we weren’t permitted to park our cars on campus. Luckily, Finn had an older brother on campus and they shared his car. Finn had begged off on going to the party, but would chauffeur us back to the dorms when we were ready to leave.
Casey sulked over my refusal to approach Blake and I shifted awkwardly. Not only was the conversation making me uneasy, but it was also the fact I could feel Blake’s eyes boring into my back. I made my escape by claiming I was off to the bathroom and promised to return in five minutes. Instead I made a beeline for the back door and shivered once the frigid January air greeted me.
Cook University, which I attended, was a mid-sized college in central Pennsylvania. It was about an hour and a half from my hometown of Newpine, Pennsylvania. I had wanted to escape the suffocation of living in a small town with people who seemed to have small minds. However, I was super close with my parents and didn’t want to move far enough away where regular visits would be difficult.
The backyard of the Football House was relatively quiet. Only people like me, those desperate for isolation, would venture out in the chilly weather. There were a half dozen students gathered in a semicircle toward the back of the yard, most likely sharing a joint, while my presence remained unnoticed. I blew out my breath in front of me, mesmerized by the crystallization in the air.
The back door opened and slammed shut loudly behind me. Startled, I spun around. My beer sloshed over the side of my cup and wet the brown boots of the guy standing before me. The motion lights switched on and I was faced with a now familiar pair of green eyes.
I clutched at my heart. “Damn! You scared me!” Actually, I’d been primed to kick him in the nuts. I didn’t take well to being startled, especially by hulking men.
“I could see that. I have a pair of drenched feet to prove your point,” he said.
I almost rolled my eyes when I heard him speak. Of course, his voice would be as sexy as the rest of him. His tone was husky and there was underlying sensuality in the way his mouth moved as he talked. He pronounced each syllable slowly, giving me plenty of time to watch his full lips move seductively.
I pushed down any lusty stirrings and allowed my annoyance to take its place. “Maybe that will serve as a reminder to not creep up on someone.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said softly.
I expected him to leave, but he stood in place next to me. I cast him a sidelong glance, trying to go unnoticed as I checked him out further. He was much taller than my five foot six and I guessed he weighed almost twice as much as I did. He wasn’t husky; instead, he was broad and muscular. He wore a long-sleeved white T-shirt and his biceps were drool-worthy as they strained against the fabric. The T-shirt was fitted and I could make out the rigid planes of his chest and abs. It was the off-season and I wondered how he could get any more cut during the regular football season.
Something about Blake was making me anxious and I gave in to my urge to flee. Without another word, I turned to go. His voice stopped me. “Why are you here?”
It was such an odd question. I laughed nervously. “What do you mean? In the physical or metaphysical sense? Like why I’m at this party or why was I ever born?”
He chuckled, but when I caught his eye, I didn’t see humor there. His eyes were too bright, too probing. “Why are you at this party? I’ve never seen you at the house before.” He spoke like it was an accusation.
What was he, the party police? His questions rankled me. It was borderline offensive and I couldn’t get a read on his motives. It didn’t feel like he was hitting on me. Instead, he genuinely wanted me to justify what brought me to the party and into his presence.
“I’m going. Nice meeting you, I guess,” I said, taking another step toward the door. “I know you didn’t bother asking me my name, but it’s Autumn, by the way.”
His fingers slipped around my wrist to stop me from going. I expected to hate the sensation, to despise the feel of a man’s hand on my skin. I inwardly cringed because I enjoyed it. His palm was soft and warm and his grip wasn’t rough. It was a gentle caress I missed once his hand pulled away. “Sorry…I’m being an ass. I’m Blake.”
He watched me after revealing his name and I almost doubled over with laughter. He was awaiting a reaction, like I’d swoon once I found out one of the school’s most talented football players was talking to little old me. After I said nothing, he continued, “I only meant I would’ve seen you before if you had come by. You’re hard not to notice.”
Evidently, he had changed his tactic, picking up on my irritation. I wasn’t flattered by his attention; I was confused by it. Although his words sounded like a compliment, the delivery didn’t sell it.
“I really should get back to my friends. I’ll see you around,” I said, belatedly wishing for the nerve to say more. I wanted to ask him why he had followed me outside. I wanted to know what about my presence offended him so. It was the strangest and most unsettling meeting and I had no idea what to make of him.
He didn’t protest as I made my way to the door. “See you around,” he replied, his voice flat.
What in the world? I hoped my path would never cross Blake Preston’s again. He wasn’t at all like Casey described. He was intense and didn’t come across like the hotshot playboy jock trying to charm his way into my panties. There was torment he was trying to hide and I saw a brief glimpse of the emotion in his eyes as I walked away. I recognized it because I saw it each morning when I looked at my own reflection.
Chapter Two
Arms were roughly grabbing at me. They locked my body in place. I tried to scream, but my throat closed up, resulting in only a whooshing sound. Panic rose up and the need to have my body freed from its prison was more than I could take. I wanted to fight, it was the only way I could escape, but my limbs wouldn’t cooperate. The force holding me down was too powerful and I despised the helplessness of the situation. I needed to break free. It was the only way I’d survive—
An insistent ringing sounded in my ears, forcing me out of the nightmare. My heart pumped wildly as I blindly reached for my cell phone on my nightstand. “Hello,” I croaked.
“Autumn, honey, are you okay?”
My mom’s reassuring voice had an instant soothing effect. I’d seen her a couple of days earlier when my parents helped me move back to campus, but I already missed them terribly. They’d been my calm during so many of my storms the past couple of years.
“I’m fine. Just another nightmare,” I confessed.
“Have you been taking the Xanax Dr. Fabian prescribed?”
“I’m trying to deal with the anxiety without it,” I said.
“Honey, don’t try to be a martyr. If the pills help you, don’t be afraid to use them.”
My mom was right, but I’d become hesitant about using the anti-anxiety medication. I didn’t want to become reliant on pills. I had to learn how to cope with the feelings on my own. My therapist, Dr. Fabian, told me to redirect my emotions into something positive when faced with anxiety. But sometimes the panic hit me like a tidal wave and pulled me out to sea. Those were the times I struggled the most.
I glanced at the time, and a groan escaped. It was after nine and I had a nine-thirty class on the opposite side of campus. I looked over at the twin bed on the other side of the room and found it empty. Lexi must’ve cut out early this morning. It would take a couple of weeks until we became accustomed to one another’s spring class schedules.
“Mom, I have to go. It’s my first art history class an
d I don’t want to be late.” My mother clicked off only after I made promises to call her and to take the medication if I needed it.
Jumping out of bed, I grabbed a gray sweater and a pair of leggings from my closet and slipped on a pair of gray boots. The dorm room I shared with Lexi was utilitarian with doubles of each piece of furniture: two twin beds, two desks, two chairs, and two dressers. We shared a single closet, each taking one side to store our clothing.
We had moved the furniture around when we first arrived to maximize the space. Both of our beds were set on opposite sides of the room next to the double windows. Lexi’s desk sat between the beds while my desk was to the left of the room at the foot of my bed. Our dressers were placed side by side against the right wall with a small television angled on top to allow both of us to watch while lying in bed.
Lexi was a fan of vibrant reds and I coordinated my sheet set to match hers. Her side of the room was filled with all of her great loves: a poster of Paris at nighttime, a photo collage of her with her best friends from back home, and a Cook University school flag. The walls on my designated side of the room were empty, reflecting how I saw my insides. I was waiting to find something inspiring enough that I’d want to stare at it for the next five months.
While brushing my teeth in front of the mirror, I noticed the exhaustion ever present in my features. I used a coat of mascara to bring out the golden brown shade of my eyes and applied scarlet lipstick to put color back into my pale full lips. After running a brush through my unruly dark blond hair and securing it with a clip, I hustled out of my room. My hair fell in waves down to my mid-back and it took me at least an hour to get it to cooperate and not look as if I’d been stuck outside during a hurricane.
On my way across campus, I rechecked my schedule for the building and room number of my class. Cook University’s academic buildings were arranged in a circular pattern on one side of the campus with the dormitories set on the other side. It was about a fifteen-minute walk to get from the dorms to most classes and I increased my pace to get to the arts building on time.
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