by Beth Michele
“He told me that he was a developer for a software company. Come to find out, he owns the whole freaking company, and… I found loads of pictures of him with all these different women.” I huff out a sigh. “I can’t do it again, you know, V. I don’t want to be someone’s afterthought.”
“I know, Liv. I do. But tell me, what did he say about it?”
I expel a frustrated breath. “I didn’t ask him, I just took off. We only just met the day before so I guess he doesn’t owe me an explanation, but he lied and that’s a deal breaker for me.”
She props her elbow on the table, fist under her chin, glaring at me. “Did you tell him who you were?” and as soon as she poses the question, I know where she’s headed.
“Well, I told him that I write erotic novels,” I reply, as she raises one of her perfectly manicured brows in the air.
“And?” She taps her fingers against the table. “Did you tell him your real name?”
“No.”
“So, in other words,” she preaches, taking a sip of her latte, “you lied, too.”
“That’s different.” I attempt to defend myself but realize I’m failing miserably. “I didn’t lie about who I was, I just didn’t tell him my real name.”
“Autumn,” she scolds, tilting her head sideways, “a lie’s a lie. You lied too, yet you wouldn’t even give the guy a chance to explain.”
“UGH!” I groan. “You’re so frustrating!”
“Yes, because you know I’m right!” she exclaims, pleased with herself as she pops a piece of the doughnut into her mouth. “I’m always right.”
“Well, let’s not get carried away,” I joke, breaking off a corner for myself. “Wow, that’s really good.”
“Stop deflecting. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, “but I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Finally, some honesty. Here.” She pushes the doughnut toward me. “Finish this. It’ll make you feel better.”
I doubt it.
Chapter Twelve
~Olivia~
It’s been four weeks since Boston, and Hunter is still in the forefront of my mind. I honestly thought by now that I would have gotten him out of my system. After all, we knew each other barely two days, but something about him stuck. He’s like a piece of gum on the bottom of my shoe that I just can’t remove no matter how hard I try. It’s a terrible analogy, but it’s the best one I’ve got.
My days are filled with thoughts of him; his rum-colored eyes, that killer smile, his corny attempt at jokes, the way it felt when he held me, and yes, his cock. At night, I think about his cock, how my lips wrapped around his velvety skin, the way he moved inside of me.
I’m going to need a new pink vibrator soon. That’s how much I’ve been thinking about him.
I inwardly sigh, my heart scrunched tight with longing. It’s not a familiar feeling for me, but it’s there. I miss him. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can picture his arms around me, and if I squeeze them really tight, I can even hear his laugh.
The phone rings, jolting me out of my self-pity party. When I see it’s my publisher, I hit ignore. I’ve had a block for weeks, which doesn’t help since the deadline for my latest novel is fast approaching. Every time I sit down to write, the words don’t come. I need divine inspiration, or maybe I just need Hunter.
That little voice in my head, that also happens to sound a lot like Vanessa, has been prodding me, but for some reason, I won’t budge. He’s probably forgotten about me by now anyway. I’m sure he’s got plenty to keep him busy with those diamond-clad beauties bowing to his every whim.
Flopping back onto the bed, I close my eyes hoping to put my active brain to rest for a while. The phone rings again and I consider not answering it, but it’s probably Vanessa’s once-a-day check in.
“Hey, V,” I answer, my voice lacking enthusiasm.
“Have you called him yet?” she challenges, getting right to the point.
“Geez, you just cut to the chase.”
“Yes, which is exactly what you need to do. Stop being so stubborn and just call him. Besides, I’m dying to meet the guy who managed to capture a small piece of your heart and a large piece of your vagina in one day. It’s nearly an impossible feat.” She laughs hysterically, cracking herself up.
“Ha ha. You’re just a laugh riot over there.”
“So, do you want to go out tonight?” she counters, and I hear voices and running water in the background.
“No, and where are you?”
“I’m at the salon, about to get some highlights. And why no? We haven’t gone out in four weeks. You need a night out.”
“I’m tired, V. Charlie and I are going to hang out and watch a movie. You’re more than welcome to join us if you want.”
She sighs into the phone. “I’ll think about it. But I’d really like to go out so I can show off my new hair. All right, I have to run, they’re ready for me. I’ll call you later.”
“Bye.”
I hang up the phone and Charlie jumps on the bed, wagging his tail. “So what do you think, Charlie? Should we watch a seriously depressing movie, or something uplifting, or….” I eye my computer on the desk. “We could do some internet surfing.”
I’m a total glutton for punishment, flipping open my laptop, searching for pictures of Hunter. When the images pop up, I can’t help but smile. I reach out and run my thumb over his eyes, his strong jaw, his lips, my heart yearning for something it can’t have. I close the computer and decide to stop torturing myself.
A buzzing sound startles me. My eyes try their best to adjust to the darkness, when I realize I fell asleep and the noise I’m hearing is the intercom. I stretch myself over Charlie, who’s sleeping comfortably on one of my pillows, and push the button.
“Yes, Henry?” I answer, groggy, desiring nothing but to go back to my altered state.
“Miss Vanessa is here and on her way up.”
“Thanks, Henry.” I let out a wide yawn, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, stumbling into the living room. The light pricks my eyes and I cup a hand over them until I adjust.
Not more than a minute later, the bell rings. I stumble to the door, opening it to a bright-eyed Vanessa, who struts in as if she owns the world. Her wheat blonde hair is flowing down her back, coiffed strands of absolute perfection.
“Wow, V, that is some great hair. I love those highlights.”
“Thanks,” she says, flipping it over her shoulder in one grand sweep. “Get some clothes on, I know you’re not up for a bar, but I’m feeling like having some cake. I want to try Sinful.”
“Sinful?” I rub the sleep out of my eyes, walking toward the kitchen to get a glass of water.
“Yeah, it’s a new pastry shop that opened on sixty-seventh street,” she says, following behind me.
“Oh, I hadn’t heard about it.” I pull two glasses from the cabinet while Vanessa takes a seat on a stool at the center island. I hold one up. “Water?”
“No thanks.”
“Okay.” I finish drinking and place the glass in the sink. “Let me get dressed.”
Within five minutes, I’m back out in the living room. Since we’re not going to a club, I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and threw on some jeans and a tee. Compared to Vanessa, I’m looking a bit dull.
“Is that a new dress, V?”
“Yup,” she boasts, admiring herself in the hall mirror, adding some lip-gloss before puckering her pout.
“Well, it’s hot. I like the low scoop in the back. It’s pretty sexy.”
“Thanks.” She clicks her tongue against her teeth. “I needed a pick-me-up and this dress caught my eye,” she says, somewhat somberly, as I grab my purse from the sofa and we make our way down to street level. “Plus, it hides the bitchy side of me well, don’t you think?”
“Wait.” I stop in the center of the lobby, laying my hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong? Why do you need a pick-me-up?”
“
It’s my parents,” she states blandly, but her betraying eyes are dotted with sadness. “They’re getting divorced.”
“Oh, V,” I console, drawing her in for a hug, “I’m so sorry.”
She sags into my embrace, dampness hitting my cheek, but then backs away, covertly wiping her eye and straightening her dress. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”
Vanessa has never been one for affection, she tends to shy away from it, and in fact, finding out her parents are getting a divorce doesn’t come as a shock to me. The times I’ve been in their presence have always been very uncomfortable. They had an odd way of showing their love for one another. They never did.
“Love sucks,” she mumbles, as we pass a couple in a heated embrace, and I pull her to my side, wanting her to know I understand, that I’m here for her.
“It sure does.”
“How would you know?” she prods, bumping my shoulder with her own. “You won’t even pick up a phone.”
“Yeah, yeah, point taken,” I respond, the night breeze flirting relentlessly with my ponytail as I ponder her truthful words.
“You okay?” I press, even though it’s a stupid question. Her parents are getting divorced. Of course she’s not okay, but I also know she won’t talk about it.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I just need some cake.”
“Let them eat cake!” I belt out and she laughs, relief flooding my chest at the sound.
“Holy crap,” she exclaims, poring over all the different varieties of cake in the glass display. “I never realized there were so many different types of chocolate.”
“Well, get whatever you want. It’s on me. Oh, and we’ll get some to go, too. One can never have too much chocolate.” I grin, fishing in my cluttered purse for my wallet, a not-so-subtle reminder that I really need to clean this thing out, or buy a bigger purse.
After paying, I meet her back at the table, juggling four plates of cake in my hands. “What do you think of that guy behind the counter? He’s cute, right?” I waggle my eyebrows, gazing at his cropped brown hair, caramel eyes, and flexing muscles.
“What is it with you and trying to set me up with guys behind the counter?” she whines, perking up when the chocolate frosting hits her mouth.
“Nothing. I’m just keeping my eye out for you.” I bat my lashes and she smiles, her mouth gaping open suddenly, fork poised mid-air.
“What is it?” I probe, before turning around and finding the answer myself. “Whoa.”
“Whoa is right,” she mutters, dropping her fork to the plate with a clatter, ogling the broad shoulders, toned arms, and tight ass surrounded by faded blue denim. The guy bends to pick up a dollar bill that fell to the ground and she gasps. “Check out the back of his neck,” she whispers, my eyes traveling to the tattoo of what looks like angel wings with a dagger piercing them. “That is hot and seriously twisted.”
Vanessa coughs loudly and he turns in our direction, his face almost as stunning as the rest of him. He looks directly at her, winks, and then struts out the door.
“Now that definitely doesn’t suck.” She giggles, her face bright red, and I laugh too, before inhaling the entire piece of cake.
Chapter Thirteen
~Hunter~
“Where are you going?” I bark, watching Scott stack a bunch of files, stuffing them in his briefcase.
“Hunter,” he whines, “it’s nine on a Friday night. We’ve been at this for five hours and I’m done. We’re no further along than we were five hours ago. I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but you need to snap out of it. People are starting to talk.”
“So let them talk,” I mutter carelessly. “I own the company and I can do as I wish.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m going home to my wife. She hasn’t seen me all week and she’s been complaining about it. You should go home to your…,” he stumbles over his words. He knows there’s no one for me to go home to, except Rex, who’s visiting this weekend. “Just go home.”
The door to the conference room closes and I’m left in deafening silence—just me and my thoughts. Correction. Just me and Autumn, because she’s the only one that’s ever in my thoughts.
“Well, it’s about fucking time,” Rex blurts out when I walk through the door.
That’s the last thing I need. Someone else giving me crap.
“I’m not in the mood for your shit, too,” I bite out, tossing my suit jacket over the side of the sofa. “I need a drink, you want one?”
“I already helped myself,” he replies, and I spot the beer bottle on the side table. “So should I assume from your sparkling aura that we’re not going out tonight?”
I pin him with an intense stare. “I’m not in the mood, Rex.”
“Listen, those looks don’t work on me. But if you want my opinion—”
“I don’t,” I call out, trekking to the kitchen to get my hands on some alcohol, hopefully to ease the ache in my chest, wipe Autumn from my mind. It’s been over a month and she still won’t go away.
“Well, I’m fucking giving it anyway. You either need to get laid or hire a private investigator to find that porn queen of yours.”
“Listen!” I peek my head out through the archway. “Stop calling her a porn queen, for one, and two, I’m not hiring a private investigator. She obviously wants nothing to do with me. I didn’t lie about my name. She knows how to find me.”
“Okay, so get over her and move on, there’s a lot of pussy out there and you’re missing out.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes even though I know he can’t see me. I’ve got plenty of women willing to open their legs for me. I’m just not interested.
“Oh,” he shouts, “I passed by this pastry shop when I was out, picked you up a piece of chocolate cake. It’s in the fridge. Saw a couple of hotties while I was there, too.”
“Of course you did,” I mumble. I really do need to drag myself out of this hole. I’m starting to sound bitter, even to my own ears. “Okay.” I spread somewhat of a happy smile across my face as I cross to the living room. “You want to watch a movie?”
“Is that my only choice?” he mutters, draining the last of his beer.
“Yes.”
“Fine. Then let’s watch Terminator. I’m in the mood for death and destruction. Should be right up your alley now, too, huh bro?” He chuckles, and I clock him with a pillow.
After an hour of staring at the television blankly, I’ve had enough. “I’m going to bed. I have to go into the office in the morning for about an hour or two, but then I’m clear for the rest of the day.” I bound off the couch, tossing my bottles in the recycling bin on the way to my room.
“All right,” he says, stretching out on the sofa now that I’ve gotten up. “Hey, bro?”
“Yeah,” I answer, turning back.
“Cheer the fuck up.” He laughs before I lob yet another pillow in his direction.
Chapter Fourteen
~Hunter~
It’s a struggle to get out of bed this morning. Even though the curtains are drawn, the bright sunlight rousing me, my desire to get up is nonexistent. For a split second, I wonder if I’m depressed. But I don’t do depression. It’s not in my repertoire. I’m just in a rut—one that I need to break out of soon.
There’s no need to wear a suit today because no one will be in the office, so I shrug on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. I’ll just finish up some paperwork then get the hell out of there. I honestly don’t want to spend my weekend working, and I owe Rex a trip to a strip club, God help me.
“Good morning, sir,” Louis greets me as I walk out of the building. “Are you taking the car today?”
“No, thank you, Louis. I’m going to walk,” I reply, glancing up and admiring the clear blue sky, instantly reminding me of Autumn’s eyes. I need to stop. Plus, that’s not even her name. Who the hell knows what her name really is? The irony is that I think Autumn really suited her.
“Enjoy your day, sir.”
; “Thank you, Louis. You as well,” I reply. “Oh, and Louis,” I add, looking back, “remember, call me Hunter.”
“Yes, Hunter, sir.” He tips his hat on a half-smile and I shake my head, taking long strides, charging in the direction of my office.
Along the way, I take in the place that has always been my home. The constant hum of the city, the eclectic mix of people, endless shopping, fabulous architecture, and street vendors selling any item you could possibly imagine.
I pass by a couple of restaurants, the aroma of bacon and eggs spilling out onto the street, my stomach rumbling in response. After walking a couple more blocks, I decide I need to grab a juice and some breakfast to take to the office. I’ll need fortification if I’m going to plow through the mountain of paperwork awaiting me.
There’s a coffee house at the end of the block. I’ve passed by it several times but never wandered in. When I get closer, a wagging tail and paws scratching against the sidewalk greet me.
“Hey, there, little fella.” I crouch down beside the dog, patting him on the head. He jumps up on my knees and gives my face a couple of sloppy licks. It’s somewhat gross, but the most affection I’ve received in a while, so I’ll take it.
“All right, little guy, I’m going inside. I’m sure your owner will be out soon.” He cocks his head, his bushy tail still wagging.
At least someone’s happy to have me around.
The line is long, but I’m starving so waiting isn’t an issue. I glance around at some of the pictures on the walls. A couple kissing in the corner catches my attention, instantly worsening my mood. Another glaring reminder of how alone I am. I shake it off and move up as the line is advancing quickly.
“Thanks, Trent. Have a good day.”
The sound of that voice stops me in my tracks, my heart doing a mad dash in my chest. I recognize it immediately because it’s the one that I hear in my dreams.