Page 1 of Anyone And You

CHAPTER ONE - DES

HAVE YOU EVER had a date that completely swept you off your feet and had you feeling butterflies for days after—checking your phone for the next cute text, hoping they ask you out again?

Yeah, me either.

Maybe that’s why I’d always loved blind dates instead of the usual online dating trend. Expectations? A nice face and a good fuck at the end of the night would do—preferably in some public place, so I never had to worry about the awkward moments of kicking him out, having to fake it to get him to finish, or, on the rare occasion, the silent car ride to his apartment.

I bristled at that thought. I’d rather get caught and flash someone a view of my ass before enduring those situations.

Or maybe that’s just me.

The cool autumn breeze swept around me as I walked through the park to my blind date that night. I was a little antsy about this one. Mutual friends set it up—an entire night at the local Equinox Festival, including all the cutesy things like hay bales and carnival rides.

I was so fucking excited. Regardless of who it was I was meeting, I knew I would have fun. And if he was dull, I could always leave him and have plenty to do on my own. Eat a funnel cake. Play a few games. Talk to the local vendors and see what they make. Get lost in the Hall of Mirrors. Finish myself off on the Ferris wheel or the spinning tea cups.

You know, the usual things one does at a fall festival.

That thrill made me smile as I continued walking up the hill to the bench where I was supposed to meet my date. I had to walk on my toes, careful not to trip with my thick-heeled boots sinking into the grass. I could already hear the live music playing on the stage, the laughter and screams from the carnival rides strumming over the air. The breeze carried the smells of the festival on it—sweet cinnamon, apples, freshly stirred dirt, and a bite of clean chill.

Autumn.

It smelled like the perfect autumn candle, and I wanted to bottle it up and bring it back to my apartment to burn year-round.

As I reached the top of the hill, I looked around the other benches for any sign of my date. I was told he’d bring a sunflower, and I was to wear a grey sweater and boots. But that was all the information I’d been given besides my friends’ approval of him.

All the people on the benches were families, couples, and a few children—no single man carrying a sunflower. I chose a bench, took my phone out, and sat to wait on him. I was a few minutes early, about five to be exact, so I pulled up the camera on my phone and decided to take a few pictures while I waited.

Golden hour in autumn was a different breed than golden hour any other time of the year. The hour before sunset—the autumn sun had a way of hitting the trees and cascading light that practically melted yellows, golds, and purples into the air. It was my favorite time of the year as a photographer. As I composed a photo of a couple under a changing sugar maple tree, I made a note to come back the next night with my Sony camera.

I took a few photos of the trees, of a leaf on the bench beside me, and one of me waiting—just my legs in view, the maple tree, the leaf, and the hill in the background. As I looked through them, posting the one of me waiting on social media, I realized I had completely missed that I’d also gotten my mystery man in the photo's background.

My gaze shot up as I closed the phone, and my heart skipped in the usual rushing way it did upon finding out who I was meeting on a blind date.

My jaw nearly dropped as I realized who it was—that I knew him.

No. Fucking. Way.

I almost laughed at the situation I was in, at who was carrying a sunflower and trudging over the grass like he was leaving ash in his wake.

His name was Axel Connors, and he lived in the apartment across from me.

Axel.

Of course, his name couldn’t have been Josh, Corey, or John. It had to be Axel. And, of course, he had to look like he’d just walked out of the Colorado wilderness at all times. He had dark chestnut hair, a beard that wrapped over his strong jaw, and a neck that rivaled Gaston. On more than one occasion, I had teased him in the hall and asked if he could snap a belt with that neck. He usually responded with a grunt, but the last time… the last time I’d asked, he’d told me that he had much better uses for a belt. He’d looked me over in a way that made my thighs squeeze but had shut the door behind him before I could ask more.

He was wearing the exact same navy, grey, and white flannel he always wore with dark, snug-fitting jeans, grey boots, and the same damn beanie that… Dammit, he did look sexy in that beanie.

He was sexy all the time, but that beanie… it did something to me. I loved how the flannel shirt hugged his biceps and broad shoulders, and how it was opened the top few buttons. And how he had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and showcased the veins in his forearms…sweet fuck.

Ever since he moved into the apartment across the hall a year ago, I'd always had a crush on Axel. He was tall, sexy, bearded, muscled, mysterious. Muscled, not necessarily in the completely trim way you’d see so many actors depriving themselves to fit into an action role for a movie. No, Axel was a beast. A solid tree built for climbing.

He was a man of few words, angry at the world, and an asshole when he wanted to be. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever seen him smile.

And yet, there he was. Walking across the field with a sunflower in his hand, the autumn sun bouncing off his alabaster skin, creating shadows in every crease of his muscles, looking as mad as ever—

But willingly on a blind date.

I wondered if this was my chance to crack that exterior of his. I wondered what he was hiding, if I could actually get him to smile, just once.

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