Page 18 of Fall I Want
“Actually, yes,” I say, placing my hand on her shoulder and leading her to the door. “It will make this a lot easier.”
I look up at the sky, then glance down at my watch, knowing she has an hour and a half before darkness falls.
“Wait,” I say, gently pulling her back toward me. Her eyes focus on my mouth then slide up to my eyes. “Give me your phone.”
I don’t know why she does, but she hands it over to me unlocked. I program my number into her contacts. “Text me so we can discuss what I want.”
“And if I don’t?” she asks, stepping onto the porch.
“Oh, you will.” I’m firm.
“Is that your IOU?”
“Not quite, sweetheart. You owe me much more than a shitty text.”
She narrows her eyes at me and I see defiance sparkling. Autumn opens her mouth, but I slam the door in her face. Then I force myself to walk away from her.
The universe has a fucked-up personality.
Three Days Later
Iwake up gasping and sit up, rubbing my hand over my face. The scruff has taken over, but that’s what happens when I don’t shave for a week. Being off the grid, away from the city, away from responsibility, has been good for my soul. Maybe by the end of the year I’ll feel even more like myself than I did before. One can hope.
I reach over to the empty side of the bed and run my hand across the cold sheets. I’m relieved after the dream I had about the brown-eyed girl with a snarky fucking attitude.
The sun climbs over the mountain peaks in the distance. One habit I haven’t broken yet is waking up early. Since I’ve been in Colorado, I’ve not slept in.
I place my feet on the floor, then go take a shower. As the warmstream rolls over my body, Autumn is on my mind. She hasn’t texted me. That woman is a dangerous combination of everything I want, but this is a game of cat and mouse that I can’t play.
An espresso machine sits on the counter and I look in the pantry for the medium roast coffee beans. Since I arrived, I’ve drunk black tea each morning on the balcony, but I finished the box yesterday. I move containers around and realize there isn’t a drip of caffeine in this place. If I don’t rectify that, I’ll have a headache by noon.
So I grab my keys and leave. Leaving the comforts of my home wasn’t in my plan for today.
I slowly drive down the mountain, passing a few bicyclists. I wave at them, knowing how hard it is. This road is steep as fuck.
The parking lot for the grocery store is full and I make a mental note not to come this early in the morning again. Once I’m inside, I find the correct aisle and glance over the bleak selection. There are only grounds, and unfortunately my machine will not take that.
A woman with salt-and-pepper hair walks by me. She stops and grabs a container. “You look confused.”
“I need whole beans,” I say, glancing at her.
“Oh, sweetie, you’ll need to visit Cozy Coffee. They’re the only establishment in town that carries them. They worked out a deal with the owner of the store. Cozy won’t sell grounds and the grocery store won’t sell beans.”
Of course. Smart, though.
“Do you like their beans?”
“They’re the best in the country,” she says. “Try the dark roast. It’s fantastic.”
“Thanks for the recommendation.”
“Oh, if you’re ever tempted to take a chance on the coffee at Cozy Hollow Confectionary, don’t. All the locals know it’s awful.”
“I will keep that in mind.” Instinctively I look at my watch and see it’s just past seven.
“Anyway, honey. Good luck. The line was wrapped around the building five minutes ago.”
“Thanks for the heads-up and the luck,” I say with a grin. “I’ll probably need it.”
