Before Autumn made the call, she decided to open her birthday present so she could thank her. After grabbing the package from her suitcase, Autumn untied the yellow ribbon and tore off the wrapping paper. She stared at the 8x8 scrapbook in her hands and began to laugh. On the cover was a picture of them taken when they were kids. They had been seven, maybe eight, at the time. It was so long ago she couldn’t remember for sure. They were dressed up in Autumn’s mother’s clothes, both wearing high heels several sizes too big. She had a pink boa around her neck and Summer was wearing a fedora. They stood there, arm in arm, grinning at the camera in baggy dresses, their make-up bold and childishly applied. They looked ridiculous and Autumn absolutely loved it. She’d forgotten all about this picture. It warmed her heart that Summer had held onto it for all those years. Above the photo were the words Best Friends Guide Book to Having Fun!
Autumn cracked the cover and the smile on her face faltered when she read the first page titled: Day One. Get Laid.
The words were written on the envelope glued to the scrapbook page. In the center was a big box for her to check off once the task was completed. Curiosity got the best of her, and she opened the flap of the envelope, peeking inside. An unladylike snort ripped from Autumn’s throat and she rolled her eyes at the gold foil wrapper.
There were seven more tabs in the book, one for each day of the vacation, but she was too scared to look any further. She loved Summer dearly. That girl was her soul sister. She’d give her a kidney without batting an eye, but she was Autumn’s opposite in every way. Maybe that was why they’d always fit together so well. Where Autumn had wanted nothing more than to get married and have a family, Summer never dated the same guy twice and had no intention of ever having children. Ironic, the way things worked out sometimes. Divorced and swearing off men was not how she’d envisioned her life at thirty—not at all.
Rallying her courage, she flipped to the next page and the page after that, and the page after that. Each day had different activities planned with the location, date, and time of the events. Where the first page had a check-off box, there was an empty space at the bottom of the other pages that said, attach photo here. Apparently, they were capturing the vacation for posterity.
She grabbed her phone and called her friend. After checking in to see how she was holding up, Summer asked her if she’d opened her birthday present yet.
“Yeah, I just unwrapped it. Love the picture, by the way.”
“Thanks. It’s a copy. I couldn’t part with mine.”
“The first page says ‘Get Laid.’”
Summer had one of those infectious laughs. Normally, she’d have joined her, but Autumn wasn’t feeling very jovial at the moment.
“You promised to do everything I had planned, remember?”
She should have known not to make Summer any promises without knowing what she was getting herself into. It wouldn’t be the first time her friend had led her astray.
“Trust me, Autumn. This will be good for you.”
“The last time you said that to me, I got poison ivy on my ass.”
“We were in sixth grade!” Her laughter started up again.
At least one of them was amused.
“Just do the things that are in the book. And might I suggest you complete the itinerary in chronological order? Blow the cobwebs out of that cooter, girlfriend, and have some fun.”
Tact was not Summer’s strong suit. Then again, when you’ve been friends since the sandbox, it wasn’t a prerequisite.
“It’s your birthday. Cut loose a little bit.”
It was her birthday. Woo-hoo. Happy fricking birthday to me. “I’m not getting laid, Summer.”
“You’re turning thirty, Autumn—”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“—not ninety. You have seven consequence-free days. Live a little. Enjoy yourself. Have some fun.”
The problem was, Autumn didn’t think she knew how to have fun anymore. Somewhere along the way, shit happened. After a lifetime of kissing frogs, she thought she’d married her Prince Charming only to discover he was king of the lily pad. A difficult marriage and an even more painful divorce later, Autumn had stopped living. She was having a good day if she could get out of bed and make it to work before noon. Thank goodness she was her own boss or she would have fired herself a long time ago.
Autumn wholly got how pathetic that was, and it took a lot of energy to make sure no one else figured that out too. But apparently, Summer was Nancy-fucking-Drew because she got the distinct feeling that this vacation was more than just a “girlfriend getaway”. It was an Autumn Harris makeover—home edition.
But Summer didn’t get it. She’d never had a husband walk out on her—never had her heart ripped out and stomped on again, and again, and again by the crap-bags in this world. Probably because Summer had always been the one to do the stomping. But this wasn’t about her friend, it was about Autumn, and the day she signed those divorce papers was the day she officially decided she was done with men. Sooo…page one in this little BF Guide Book?—not gonna happen.
“I hate you,” Autumn sighed, closing the cover of the book and tossing it aside. She could say that because Summer knew it one-hundred percent was not true. Autumn hated her life, not her best friend.
“You love me,” Summer countered, completely unfazed by Autumn’s drama. “That’s why you’re going to follow that book—to the letter.”
“But I’m afraid of heights,” she told her, remembering tomorrow’s page. “They make me nauseous.”
“I know.”
“And I have two left feet,” she complained, thinking of Saturday’s itinerary.
Summer laughed. “I know.”
“And... I haven’t let a man touch me since Alex.”
Silence spanned the connection for several heartbeats. “I know.”
She could hear the understanding in her friend’s voice. Summer did know. She was the only person who truly knew her. She knew the heartbreak Autumn went through the day she discovered Alex was cheating on her and she didn’t even get the closure and satisfaction of leaving him. Nope, he left her—told Autumn it was all her fault and walked out the door.
Summer knew the self-doubt and insecurity Autumn battled because of Alex’s betrayal, which was possibly why her friend was pushing her so damn hard. “One and done, Autumn. That’s all you have to do. And that’s the beauty of this vacation. No strings. No commitment, so no possibility of a broken heart. Don’t pass up this chance. You might not get another one.”
Summer was right, but that didn’t make what Autumn was about to do any easier.
“You need to get your groove back, girlfriend. Get your sexy on. Prove to yourself you’ve still got it. Alex was a lying, cheating bastard. That miserable prick did not break you, Autumn. You’re stronger than that.”
She wasn’t so sure that she was. It was easier to swear off men than consider letting one touch her again. The things in that book, they weren’t her. She wasn’t adventurous. And yet here she was, on the Island of Love, with a book full of possibilities.
Chapter Three
Summer was right, she needed to wipe her slate clean and ax any memory of Alex. Easier said than done. And this was a task Autumn was fully aware that she would not be able to do sober. As irresponsible as getting drunk and hooking up with some random sounded, she wasn’t a complete idiot. She had a plan. Just down the beach was a restaurant with a bar. She was going to walk there, have dinner, and pick one lucky chap from the bar to bang. Only then, once she’d made her sober selection, would the drinking commence.
Of all the activities in Summer’s BF Guide Book, this one by far would be the most difficult to accomplish. But it was time. In her heart, Autumn knew it. She just needed the push to make it happen. As long as she remained a divorcee virgin, a part of her would always belong to Alex—and it was a part she desperately wanted back. A part she needed to take back.
Maybe Autumn had underestimated
herself and she was more ready for this than she realized. She didn’t normally react to men, and there was no doubt about it, when she’d run into Doucher at the airport, her body had given her a heeey girl! Crushed up against him, she’d felt every one of his rock-hard muscles. And his scent… Lord, have mercy. That spicy masculine scent was simply divine. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy made her that hot. Too bad it had to be the asshat on the plane who’d done it. But she’d take it as a good sign. If she could feel chemistry with him, then there was hope she’d find someone at the bar who could spark her fire. She just hoped she wasn’t working with wet wood. Before the self-doubt could begin to creep back in, Autumn pushed the thoughts of having meaningless, no strings attached sex out of mind.
She still had a few hours before she needed to get ready for her unsuspecting date, and Operation: One and Done would commence. Slipping into her adorably cliché teeny-weenie-yellow-polka-dot-bikini, Autumn decided to catch some rays. She was a true redhead, and for most people of the ginger variety, that would be a serious issue, but not her. She was a total day-walker, meaning she could tan her little ass off without burning to a complete crisp and peeling like a leper.
Without further ado, she slathered on the 70 SPF and hit the beach. On the way out the door, Autumn grabbed her towel, sunglasses, and a smutty romance novel, because living vicariously through fictional characters was all the action she’d been getting. And she’d liked it that way too. It was safe, and Autumn got to fall in love over and over again without worrying about getting her heart broken.
Not bothering with shoes, Autumn slid the patio door closed and buried her toes in the warm sand. Halfway to the water, she realized she’d left her cell inside, but decided not to turn back. As of right now, she was officially on vacation. Picking a smooth, undisturbed spot of sand, she spread out her beach towel and sprawled onto it, exhaling a big sigh. The sun felt amazing. It was like getting a big hug from God, enveloping her in a warm, comforting embrace.
Shutting down her mind of all extraneous thoughts, she refused to let herself dwell on anything but the sound of lapping waves and the rustle of palm leaves cackling in the breeze. Occasionally the wind would gust, sending the briny sea air across her sweat-beaded skin, the coolness buffering the intensity of the rays.
Wow, I needed this. As she lay there basking in the sun, the crazy thought briefly crossed her mind, what if I never go back?
It was quite possible the Island of Love had captured her under its spell, because Autumn was totally smitten.
The afternoon passed too quickly, and before she knew it, it was time to get ready for her “date”. On her way to the shower, she glanced at her cell and saw she had a missed call from an unknown number. The area code was from the island, which was strange. Who could possibly be calling her and why didn’t they leave a message? Before she could ponder the question any longer, another text message came through.
Hey, this is Balen. The guy you ran into at the airport. I think I have something you want.
What the hell? First of all, how in the frick did he get her number? And second of all, this jackass probably thought every woman wanted what he had. Pissed off and a little creeped out, Autumn fired back a response.
Trust me, you don’t. That wasn’t entirely true, but she’d be damned if she admitted it. Autumn hit send and was about to toss her cell onto the bed when her phone chimed again.
Trust me, I do.
What an arrogant, cocksure…doucher! Someone needed to put this guy in his place. And she was just the girl to do it. Listen jackass, just because you’re hot, that does not give you the right to go around sexting women you don’t know.
I’m not sexting you.
Pleeease…Mr. I’ve Got Something You Want. Barf! It feels like sexting to me. She shot back and hit send.
Then you’ve never been properly sexted.
Oh, smack! Seriously? Autumn’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She didn’t even know how to respond to that, and she wasn’t sure that she should. Before a decision could be made, her phone went off again with another message.
Would you like me to show you the difference?
Autumn couldn’t begin to explain why, but the offer sent the heat in her cheeks rushing between her legs. This was ridiculous. She didn’t even like the guy. But in her defense, creeper or not, Balen might possibly be the most gorgeous man she’d ever met, and the idea of him texting dirty things made her hotter than it should. Not that she’d ever take him up on his offer, but why, God why, did all the beautiful men have to be such asshats?
How did you get my number?
Your customs form. You dropped it at the airport. Like I said, you’re going to want what I’ve got.
Oh… Well, shit. She did need that back. Maybe he wasn’t such a creeper after all. Autumn’s phone chimed again.
FYI, you should probably keep better track of your stuff.
Thanks for the advice. I’ll keep that in mind the next time I run into a human wall. Damn. How was she going to get that form back?
Have dinner with me.
Really? I don’t think so.
Why not? You already said you think I’m hot.
I did not.
Yes, you did. You said, listen jackass, just because you’re hot, that does not give you the right to go around sexting women you don’t know. You definitely called me hot.
Despite herself, a bubble of laughter escaped. I called you a jackass.
You don’t know me well enough yet to make that call.
Are you saying I’m wrong? She challenged, enjoying their banter more than she probably should.
I’m saying have dinner with me and find out.
Autumn was about to decline his “gracious” offer for the second time, but then a thought crossed her mind. Doucher was ridiculously gorgeous, and she already knew she had chemistry with the guy. Just accidentally running into him had lit her up like the fourth of July. Besides, she didn’t get that serial killer vibe from him, so she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to turn her into a skin suit. He may be an arrogant, cocksure ass, but no one said she had to like him to fuck him.
In fact, that would be preferable. Less chance her heart would get involved. The more she thought about it, Balen would be a perfect One and Done. If she was going to do this, she wanted it to be with someone who made her hot, because the sad truth was, not many men did. Plus, it would take some of the stress out of the night if she already knew who she was going to end up with. And this way, she could start drinking that much sooner.
All right. I’ll have dinner with you. Meet me at Ambrosia in an hour.
Chapter Four
Balen couldn’t believe it. She said yes, and now he was worried because that was way too easy. Truthfully, he was a little disappointed she didn’t make him work harder for it. Autumn didn’t seem like the type of woman to cave so quickly. It amused him that she thought he was sexting her. How sheltered was she? There were so many dirty words rolling through his head, things he’d love to say to that woman if he were sexting her.
Since that suitcase had come crashing down on his head and he’d looked up to find Autumn standing behind that frazzled blonde, Balen hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Something about that woman made him feel like he was racing head-on into a tidal wave, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d get caught in her riptide and she would pull him under.
“Bay, you made it home?” Connor called from the living room then stopped in Balen’s doorway. “Oh hey, man. About time you got back. How about you, me, and the Doublemint twins tonight? What’d ya say?”
Balen’s brother strolled into his bedroom, dripping sea water all over the place. He didn’t care that the guy had his twenty-thousand-dollar Makaha under his arm, but he did mind that he was wearing Balen’s board shorts. Bro or not, there was just some shit you shouldn’t have to share. “Stay out of my fucking drawers, man.” Balen grabbed a towel off his bed and chucked it at Connor. “You’re ge
tting water all over the place.” He’d been gone a week and the guy acted like he owned the place.
“Fine. Jeez.” Connor propped Balen’s surfboard against the closet door and started toweling off. “You don’t have to be such a little bitch about it,” he grumbled, giving Balen shit because that’s what Connor did. He dished it out and Balen gave it right back. That was the way they rolled.
“I told you before I don’t want your junk in my trunks. Mi casa es su casa, but buy your own board shorts, man.”
Connor dropped-drawers right where he stood, letting all his shit hang out. Dude had no shame whatsoever. He hooked the shorts with his toe and lobbed them toward Balen. They hit the tile floor with a splat, about four feet from their intended target. Balen swore to God if that little shit wasn’t buck-ass naked and his best friend, he’d have beaten the ever-loving hell out of him.
“So…you, me, and the twins?”
“Can’t.” Balen slipped into a shirt and started on the buttons, going with the slightly dressy but still casual look. Normally, he’d be in a wife-beater and shorts, but Ambrosia was a pretty classy restaurant, and he didn’t want to attract any more attention than he already did. “Brad’s up my ass about some goddamn sex tape. I gotta stay on the DL.”
“Yeah, he already called me. I’m taking care of it. FYI, you might want to make sure the curtains are closed when you’re staying on the ground floor.”
Balen chuckled, though in all seriousness, it really wasn’t a laughing matter. That shit had a way of coming back to haunt you. “Thanks, man.”
Connor secured the towel around his waist and shrugged. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”
“To keep my dick off social media?”
“Pretty much. So, are we doing this, or what?”
“Sorry. I have a date.” He walked into the bathroom to tame his hair. It was a bit longer than he liked it, but the sponsors preferred it that way. They thought it fit the whole surfer image, so…whatever.
In for the Win (Against the Cage Book 5) Page 32