Autumn: See? You are already so much better at this!
It’s not just practice, Little Fairy. I mean it.
And since when did I get this soft?
The week passed in a flash. Before I knew it, I stood in front of my wardrobe at six on a Saturday, overthinking my fucking outfitagain.
I never cared about what I wore!
Why now?
A Wild Bull Roast merch shirt would have been the most sensible choice, but I didn’t like the idea of turning this into a work meeting. I knew it was an opportunity for me to meet more people and practice my social skills with Autumn’s colleagues.It made sense. It was a controlled environment with people she regarded as safe.
Of course, that’s why she invited you. What else do you think this is? That she wants you to come along because you kissed? It’s not a date, you prat.
I pulled up in front of her house with five minutes to spare. A few moments later, a ball of energy bounced down the paved path from her house.
She beamed.
“Good morning, Ross.” Autumn climbed into the passenger seat. The way the morning sunlight glinted in her hair mesmerised me almost as much as the look she gave me. It was hungry and blazing.
Her eyes travelled over my chest under the plaid shirt I’d found in my favourite clothing company’s newly opened flagship store near my workshop in Pear Mill.
It came from their new Lumberjacked Line and, according to their ad, was for “men who chop wood, split hearts, and want to look damn good doing it.” Judging by the way she looked at me, I did ‘look good doing it.’
Then her eyes dipped down to the dark jeans I’d grabbed to go with the shirt. They clung to my thighs like a second skin.
“Wow, you look great!” She licked her lips. “I love that shirt on you.”
“Thanks. Uh, you, too.” Autumn looked amazing in a skirt with pumpkins embroidered all around the hem and a chunky knit jumper the colour of oatmeal.
She gave me that proud mum smile again. I hated it. Not that it didn’t look cute on her, but she behaved like this was just me practicing my people skills.
Like I don’t mean it.
I longed to kiss it off her face and replace it with something real.
God, don’t you dare kiss that girl again! Don’t mess this up!
I had a knack for making things awkward because I had never been able to read people before.
Am I getting better or just more delusional?
It took us about an hour to get to the farm. As we did every morning, we listened to Radio-Active.
“What are these, by the way?” She pulled my emergency packet of crisps from the middle console and inspected them. “You always have these in your car. Guilty pleasure?”
“Kind of, I suppose.” I glanced at her. “They help me when it gets too loud in my brain.”
“So they’re a coping mechanism?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Autumn put them back into the console.
“I’m glad you have something that works for you.”
You work for me, too.
