Page 42 of Fall I Want
Please text me your address so I can walk with you to dinner.
Autumn
1313 Pumpkin Crossing Drive, Apt 2. I’m upstairs from Vinyl Vibes.
Alex
Thanks. See you soon!
I scroll up and read the previous messages that synced from our conversation. My cheeks heat reading the jacked-up text my voice command sent.
I’m not boring you. I’m really horny and dropped my panties again. I hope it’s not a bad omen. Anyway, have a good night.
Then I see his skull emoji reply. Maybe he has a sense of humor.
For the rest of the day, I sit at my nook and devour a thriller I picked up a few days ago. My brain is quiet, even if thoughts of Alex slip in every once in a while. When I randomly glance up at the edge of the mountain, my eyes scan over to Hollow Manor. How is it possible he lives in that house? Too many things keep pulling us together.
An hour before he’s set to pick me up, I shower and get dressed. As I finish putting on my lipstick, there’s a knock at my door.
As soon as he sees me, he smiles. “Hi.”
“Hello.” My eyes slide from his eyes to his mouth, down the light gray button-up shirt that’s tucked into black slacks that fit his body perfectly. Then I notice he’s holding a bouquet. Just for me.
“They’re called coneflowers,” he says, handing them to me. Our fingers brush together.
I immediately inhale their sweet scent. “They’re gorgeous. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he says.
“I should keep these here. Oh, come in.”
Alex follows behind and I allow him to enter. The door closes and seeing him standing there throws me off. I’m tempted to ask if it’s real, but I don’t want to wake up if it’s not.
“What?” he asks curiously.
“Nothing at all.” I move to my kitchen and pull a vase from the cabinet. I drop an aspirin in the bottom, then fill it with water. My fingers brush against the silk ribbon as I untie it and put the bright red flowers inside. “When we’reactuallyfriends, remind me to tell you why I was looking at you like that. Right now, it would be a little too awkward.”
He chuckles, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I look forward to learning why. It’s the same expression you had when you handed me my coffee. It’s a flash of recognition. Tell me, Pumpkin, what is it I remind you of?”
I try to hold back a smile as I lift the vase onto the windowsill, knowing my heart rate is ticking. I’m sure he noticed that too. “Ah yeah, you’re halfway there. One day I’ll tell you. And when I do, promise me you’ll find it adorable.”
“Okay,” he says, and our eyes lock for a moment too long before he breaks the contact to glance around my space. “It feels like home here. Cozy. Comfortable. Not at all haunted.”
“Oh, good. Glad to learn I’m clear of ghosts, considering you’re an expert now,” I say, happy for the subject change.
He chuckles. “Shall we go?”
I nod and we make our way outside.
As we travel down the sidewalk, our arms brush together. “Have you always lived here?”
“I moved to New York for school, then Europe for almost three years while I got my master’s degree.”
“Impressive. What’s your profession?”
I glance over at him. “I dreamed of being an author.”
“Just dreamed?” he asks, meeting my eyes.
