Captivated

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Captivated Page 24

by Bailey, Tessa


  He let go of her chin to lock the door. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on—”

  Autumn’s arms wound around his waist from behind. “Can we stay home?” She squeezed tighter and the beating organ in Blake’s chest lifted and snared in his throat. “I can pretend to be a school girl disobeying her principal again. That was our best, yet.”

  Remembering the innocent white panties she’d worn beneath a plaid skirt, Blake stiffened in his trousers.

  Whatever you do, don’t think about the pigtails. Jesus. Throw lust into the mix with his suffering heart, and not dragging her into the apartment was becoming impossible. He could tell her right here and now how he felt. They didn’t have to go to Essence Theater for the variety show. He could forget the plans he’d made once they got there. But words weren’t enough for this girl he’d fallen in love with. She would get the world from him.

  Blake turned around, catching a glimpse of distress on her face before she hid it in his chest. “Autumn, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Myphrodion tulk prow—” He took a handful of her hair and tipped her head back. “I can’t hear you when you talk into my shirt.”

  “And that’s…a bad thing?”

  He kept his hips angled away, because God knew if she used her hands to persuade him to do anything, he wouldn’t be able to deny her. Tilting his head, he considered her pout, remembering she’d been called in to work today. “Something bad happen with a patient?”

  “No. Apart from a turtle with diarrhea.”

  “Glad I asked. Are you stuck on a joke?”

  “Did you just hear me? I just treated a turtle that couldn’t stop shitting itself. If jokes were gold, I would be King actual Midas.”

  “Right.” Blake leaned down and kissed her mouth, long and slow, not giving a fuck if he ended up with a face full of electric coral. And if remembering the name of her lipstick didn’t prove he loved her, nothing would. Using a technique he knew would work wonders, even if it was kind of unfair, Blake pulled her hair harder and dropped his voice. “Talk.”

  Autumn’s eyelids fluttered. “My parents…no, everyone I know found out.” She swallowed hard, the angle of her neck showing off the slide of muscle.

  “Everyone found out what?”

  “About the break up. That I’m living alone. Every time I get a second to myself I’m messaging my friends and reassuring my parents that I’m surviving the shipwreck that is my adult life.”

  Blood swam in Blake’s ears. “You hadn’t told them about the break up?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Autumn broke free of his hold, mostly because he was taken off guard and didn’t have the wherewithal to keep it up. “I came here to support Ian getting into comedy. If that’s not why I’m here anymore…then why am I here?” She looked up at him quickly. “That’s what they’re all asking me. My friends want me to come home and my parents want me to buy into my uncle’s business. That’s what they’ve always wanted.”

  No.

  It took all his willpower not to roar that word at the top of his lungs. The book sitting in his jacket felt ridiculous in that moment. Ridiculous. Autumn’s adult life had been shaped by a relationship with another man, one that had lasted years. There was no reason to be surprised that she hadn’t called home about him—a man she’d simply asked to fuck her the right way, before he’d managed to make it more. After all, who had Blake told about Autumn? A couple of tenants? There was no one in his life to tell. He was just a solitary asshole with a book to offer.

  What a catch.

  “What do you want, Autumn?”

  She tripped toward him, throwing her face back into his chest. “I want to go inside and smell the leather of your books and let you undress me. I just want to ignore my phone and get lost for the night.”

  So easy. 1-2-3. Giving Autumn what she wanted was such a temptation to him, it physically hurt to shake his head no. He hadn’t been asking what she wanted for the night. He’d meant in general. For the future. Did she want to go back to Australia? Did she want her parents to know she was dating a former hermit with only rudimentary social skills? Could she see him as a legitimate reason to stay in New York?

  He would never know unless he asked. Unfortunately, he sucked with words. And whatever ones he’d mustered for tonight seemed trite and ineffective in the face of what she’d just told him. There was every chance he wouldn’t be enough to keep her in this town. He had to come to terms with that, but he would be damned before he allowed Autumn to believe she couldn’t stay on her own. That she couldn’t make New York a better place than it was before she arrived. If she didn’t already believe, he would damn well believe enough for the both of them.

  Blake forced an easygoing expression onto his face. “In what world am I the one making you go outside, huh? It’s supposed to be the other way around.” He stooped down and threw Autumn over his shoulder, ignoring her yelp and giving her backside a squeeze. “Suck it up. I was promised three dates and I’m damn well collecting, Fun-Size.”

  “Landlord!” She twisted on his shoulder. “I don’t like this kind of hostage taking.”

  “You will.”

  He hoped. He hoped like hell.

  At some point during his sabbatical from the human race, they’d stopped assigning seats at concerts, allowing it to become a free for all. There were actual seats at the Essence Theater, but only in the balcony sections, everything else appeared to be general admission and nothing about this seemed surprising to Autumn. She ponied up to the bar in front of him, her feathers still a little ruffled from being denied her night at home. To tell the truth, Blake liked the feisty side of her on display. Their first few encounters, she’d been ready to pass out every time he came close. Now she was comfortable enough to eye roll him and know she could get away with it. She knew not only that he wouldn’t lay a fucking finger on her, but that he would still be there waiting. When she decided she’d made him suffer enough.

  That’s how he knew his plan tonight was the right thing to do. Autumn had always been an extraordinary woman with talent and resilience. Not in a million years could he take credit for traits that were so essentially her. But his original goal in taking her out and showing her New York had worked. First, she was no longer a timid mouse around him. And second, the sparkle that had been dimmed by her break up was back. If he’d thought her beautiful before, he couldn’t look at her now without wanting to get on his knees. She’d grown. He’d had the privilege of watching it happen. After tonight, she’d have no doubts about herself, her ability to thrive on her own and just maybe…her desire to be with him.

  Blake passed a twenty over Autumn’s head to the bartender before she could pay for the drinks. She turned around with another adorable eye roll and handed him his beer, deliberately not looking at him. It was a thing of beauty.

  Blake dropped his mouth to her ear, breathing against it for a few seconds, settling into the flavor of her. “I know you’re mad with me. But I need to tell you, Autumn, that I’m…proud to be here with you. To be the one who walks into a room holding your hand. Every time we go anywhere together, I’m proud you’d choose to be here with me over someone younger.” He laughed quietly into her hair. “Or nicer.”

  She made a sound. “Goddammit landlord, you’ve messed up the truly satisfying mope I was having.”

  “Good. It worked.”

  Her fingers crept up and down his chest. “Did you mean all that?”

  “Do you think I say things I don’t mean?”

  “No. Except for that time you told me I was only good for a blow job.”

  “You had to bring that up.”

  Autumn gasped. “I just won a current argument by bringing up a past argument. That does it. We’re officially a couple!”

  Blake knew she meant it as a joke, but that didn’t stop his heart from aching, needing that statement to be a reality. It was possible the universe had decided to speed up his timing, too, because right on the
heels of her declaration, Autumn’s knuckles bumped into the book in his coat pocket. “Whoa, what the hell is that? You packing heat?”

  This is it, he thought. I’ll tell her everything right now. He took a moment to marvel over his newfound spontaneity and knew it could only be attributed to Autumn, then reached into his coat to take out the book—

  “What’s up, assholes?” Owen said, sliding into a vacant spot beside them at the bar, his arm linked with a man with a neck tattoo and an indulgent smile. “Go ahead, compliment my outfit and we can move on to introductions.”

  “It’s lovely!” Autumn said, clearly forgetting all about the object in his coat. “Toast of the nonexistent red carpet.”

  “I know.” Owen dragged his companion closer. “This here is the old ball and chain. Ryan, meet Autie and her pouty man bear, Blake. Status: It’s complicated.”

  Ryan gave them a dissecting look. “Only if they let it be.”

  Owen signaled the bartender. “You right, baby. You so right.”

  God save Blake from wise-beyond-their-years millennials. He’d shown enough vacant apartments and overheard enough rent disputes between people in their mid-twenties to know they had a startling sense of self-awareness. It might even be impressive if it didn’t make him wonder what he could have done with the same attribute at their age. Only, he hadn’t started wondering about that until recently. The last few days, to be exact.

  A memory of Kevin Donahue outside the building rose without warning. Why was he thinking about his old friend now? His past had nothing to do with tonight. It had nothing to do with anything. He’d made sure of that.

  “Should we battle our way up to the front? I want Isa to know she’s loved and supported.” Without waiting for an answer, Owen gestured to the crowded stage area, which was growing denser now that the lights were out. “Just kidding, she’ll castrate me if I’m not front and center. Move it, folks.”

  Blake settled a hand on the small of Autumn’s back and guided her through the crowd, putting the fear of God in anyone who complained about them pushing to the front. When they reached the stage, however, Blake took mercy on the significantly shorter population and led Autumn to an alcove just off to the right. She leaned back against him, natural as breathing, taking their linked hands and crossing them over her body. Blake enjoyed the moment of easy intimacy as Autumn laughed at the emcee on stage who was introducing the first act—a beat boxing harmonica player.

  Sure, why not?

  They were around five acts into the show when Isabella’s turn came. She didn’t smile as she glided toward the microphone, plucking it out of the stand and waving away the wire, as if she’d done it a thousand times. Most of the acts talked to the crowd or told a pointless anecdote before cueing the music, but not this girl. She held up three fingers, counted down in silence, then slid right into At Last by Etta James.

  “Holy shit,” Autumn whispered. “She’s amazing. I mean, of course she is. She makes eating noodles look elegant. Seriously, can you imagine going on after her? I’d want to die.”

  Blake ignored the rock that had just formed in his stomach. Just a figure of speech. Although, when he’d made that phone call to the organizer a couple days ago, he hadn’t pictured the Essence Theater being quite this large. Or that such a high volume of people would show up to a variety act on a Sunday night. He’d thought it was going to be on the casual side.

  A tick started in his temple as Isabella’s song drew to a close, thunderous applause following the final note. Autumn took Blake’s hands and clapped for him. All he could do was let her, watching as the emcee approached the microphone again.

  “Was that not transcendent, you guys?” The emcee waved his hat in front of his face. “She goes by Isa. I-S-A. CDs are available in the lobby, but honestly, what are CDs anymore? No one knows. Download that shit right now while you’re thinking of it. I’ll wait.” Someone yelled something from the audience, making the emcee frown. “No, you’re a CD. Okay.”

  He clapped his hands and another spectacled young man ran out on stage. He was holding a Casio keyboard and he handed it to the guy on the microphone. “Our next performer is here to make you laugh. She comes from the land down undahhhh. Please put your paws together for Autumn Reynolds!”

  Autumn tensed up and a nervous laugh hissed out of her. “Isa must have asked him to play a joke on me backstage. I mean…right?”

  The crowd started murmuring, clearly confused as to why no one was walking out on stage and Autumn turned to look at Blake. “Where’d they get the keyboard, though? Oh God. What should I do…?”

  He watched in horror as the color drained from her face. Had he gone too far too soon? No. They were there in the correct moment together, weren’t they? They were there, there was no going back and she was fucking good. He knew if she got up there, everyone in the room would fall in love with her humor. Was he biased? Yes and no. He was in love with the girl so he found her every inhale amazing, but he could still listen objectively and recognize her comedy as the real deal.

  “Autumn, you can do this.”

  Her expression remained dazed. “No I can’t.”

  Blake turned her, shaking her a little by the shoulders. “You’ve practiced a million times. Just go up and perform like you’re with me in the park. Or in front of your mirror. I know you can.”

  “You…” She shook her head, trying to get free of him. “How dare you. How could you do this to me? What fucking right did you have?”

  All around them, the crowd started chanting Autumn’s name, at the encouragement of the emcee. Autumn started to tremble and she clenched her small white hands into fists. It tore Blake straight down the middle.

  I have fucked up huge.

  “Autumn…” he rasped.

  “No.” Using one of the moves she’d learned in Krav Maga, she twisted and elbowed him hard in the ribs, breaking away. Blake went running after her, no choice but to tunnel straight through the chanting crowd. There was nothing he could do but go after her, his leg protesting as he wove through the crowd of tightly packed bodies. Regret clogged his throat, panic blurring his vision. He’d thought all she needed was a push to realize her dream, but once again, he’d miscalculated. He’d missed one hill of the landscape, same as he always did. This time, though, it could cost him everything.

  Blake saw a flash of blonde hair barreling through a side exit and followed, bursting out onto the street behind a weeping Autumn. She whirled on him, her hands shaking to stave him off. “Don’t come near me.”

  He knew an apology would fall on deaf ears, so he went with an explanation. “I thought—”

  “You thought what, Blake? We’re sleeping together, so maybe that gave you the right to make a huge decision for me? To push me into something I wasn’t even close to being ready for?” She turned in a circle, hands on her head. “At least before tonight I could pretend it was a possibility. Getting on stage and actually trying to be funny. But you threw me into this a-and now I know I’m a fucking coward. It’s fact.”

  “You’re not a coward,” Blake growled. “There’s never going to be a right time. It’s always going to be too soon until you just do it.”

  Perhaps not the right thing to say—as evidenced by the bright red spots of color that bloomed on her cheeks.

  “Know what, Blake? You’re right. I’m not a coward.” She took two steps and shoved him, but unlike in Krav class, he didn’t have the presence of mind to feign a loss of balance and his refusal to budge seemed to piss her off even more. “You are. Hiding in your stacks of books and holding a grudge for ten fucking years. Turning your nose up at your friend’s apologies. Whatever happened, it happened another lifetime ago and you’ve just shut yourself away and licked your wounds. That’s cowardice.”

  Autumn’s mouth snapped shut and she turned away. She was clearly still awash in her anger, but aware that what she’d said had crossed a line. Not that Blake could process much besides the jagged gash in his chest. It gaped an
d bled, right there onto the sidewalk.

  She was right. Christ, had a more accurate truth ever been spoken? He’d spent a month trying to essentially fix Autumn, but she’d never been broken in the first place. He was the broken one. Instead of looking inward and sorting through his bullshit, he’d put pressure on her to heal in a way he obviously never had.

  “If I want to go home, it will be my decision. If I want to make a go of comedy, it’ll be my decision.” She swiped at her damp eyes. “You just maneuvered me around without a thought to what I wanted. Just like he did.”

  A clamp tightened around the back of his neck. “Don’t compare me to him.”

  “Well then who should I compare Ian to? Your ex-fiancée?” She pushed a jerky hand through her hair. “Is that what this rehabilitation project was all about? Sticking it to the people who betrayed us? Are we some kind of sad club? Because I didn’t sign a membership form.”

  “I understand why you’re mad at me, but that’s a load of shit and you know it.” He tried to catch her arm, but she evaded him. “We’re together because we want to be.”

  “I know there’s more to it.” She peered up at him. “Were you trying to use me as your second chance, Blake?”

  “No, Jesus…”

  But he couldn’t say with full certainty that he hadn’t done so without realizing it.

  More than anything, he wanted to pull Autumn close and tell her everything he’d done for the last month was because he’d been falling in love with her. She’d walked into his apartment seeking her drawing and she’s brought in sunshine. Sunshine he couldn’t help coveting and eventually soaking in like a selfish bastard.

  The book inside his coat felt like it weighed as much as a lead cannonball. He couldn’t give it to her, now. Maybe he never could. The last month had been the best of his life, but when Autumn looked back, what would she see? His pathetic attempts to make her be better while everything in his rearview still laid in shambles? No. No, that wouldn’t work. It never would have worked. He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Autumn.”

 

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