Finding Autumn (11 page)

“Geez, fucking anxious much?” he taunts, “I hope you have broadband because I don’t have wireless here.”

“Yeah, I’ve got broadband.” I walk back out to the living room, retrieve my laptop, and then plant myself on the sofa, hiking my legs up on the trunk that serves as a coffee table.

Almost a half-hour later, I haven’t found anything. “This is ridiculous.” I shoot Rex a look as he’s flipping stations with the remote. “I can’t find any listings for Autumn on Google, just links for her books. There are a couple of Autumns on Facebook, but none of them are her. Shit.”

“She’s a writer?” He clicks the remote off to give me his undivided attention.

“Yeah.”

“What does she write?”

“Erotic romance,” I reply, staring down at the screen, searching for addresses in New York.

“Oh shit, she writes porn? You hit the mother-load.” He grins, pitching a dark brow in the air.

“No, it’s nothing like that. Anyway, I can’t find Autumn Winters anywhere,” I complain frustrated, typing a couple more search strings into Google.

“Autumn Winters?”

“Yeah.”

He cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing me. “Bro, that sounds like a stage name.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh man, I thought you were smarter than that. Going to Harvard and shit. You’ve been hoodwinked.”

“Hoodwinked? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word before. What the hell do you mean?”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Bro. That doesn’t sound like someone’s real name.”

“What?” It takes me a second to process his words when the realization hits me, a thousand bricks being dropped on my head simultaneously. “Fuck.” I fling myself off the couch, rubbing the back of my neck, pacing back and forth over the green, stained carpet.

“Yep. If there was ever a time for you to drop the F-bomb, it would be now.”

I scrape a rough hand through my hair. “Christ. How the hell am I going to find her now?”

“Well, you’re going to have to hope she comes looking for you.”

“Yeah, right.”

Chapter Eleven

~Olivia~

The lock clicks on the door, opening to the sight of Vanessa and Charlie sitting on the couch watching television. She looks up from her bowl of popcorn, a smile of surprise lighting her hazel eyes before her lips flop into a frown.

“Jesus, who died?”

“Good to see you, too,” I retort, as Charlie bounds off the sofa, tail wagging, attacking me with a bout of sloppy kisses.

At least he’s happy to see me.

She clicks the off button on the remote, tossing it on the table. “Sorry, but you look like hell. I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow afternoon. It’s almost one a.m. What happened?”

I kneel down beside Charlie, hugging and patting him on his favorite spot below his belly. “It’s a long story.”

“Well….” She winks, hopping off the couch. “Lucky for you I don’t have any place I need to be. Leave your stuff. Let’s go to Heavenly Lattes. They’re still open for another hour.”

We link arms, say goodbye to Charlie, and walk out to the elevators. When we arrive in the lobby, Henry, the doorman for my building, addresses us with a nod of his head.

“Evening, Miss Vanessa, Miss Olivia.”

“Good evening, Henry,” we greet in unison, giving him a small wave as we stroll by.

It’s actually a beautiful night, and typically, I’d be marveling at all the passers-by, the bright lights, the stars in the sky. Even though I’ve been here a while, it never gets old for me. But tonight, I don’t feel very appreciative, and I certainly don’t feel like smiling.

“Okay,” Vanessa sends out into the air, “you’re awfully quiet. Are you waiting to spill it until we get our coffee? Needing your fix first?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, whoever
he
is, he’s really gotten under your skin. That’s pretty obvious.”

“How do you know it involves a he?” I protest, although I know she sees right through me. She has the gift of psychic ability where I’m concerned. “Yeah, I need my coffee first.” I sigh heavily, and she gives my arm a supportive squeeze.

As we round the corner, the red neon sign flashes above Heavenly Lattes, our neighborhood coffee house. This is where Vanessa and I met seven years ago, and we’ve been hanging out here ever since.

The scent of coffee beans and warm cinnamon welcomes us when we walk inside. I breathe in through my nose, the aroma serving to calm me, at least for the moment. The dim recessed lighting combined with muted green, burgundy and gold colors are both relaxing and inviting. Trent, the owner of the shop, waves us in and gets busy making our drinks. He doesn’t even have to ask. We’re that predictable. Vanessa goes over to snag us a booth, while I hover over the selection of doughnuts at the counter.

“Hey, Olivia, what can I get you, sweetheart?” Trent salutes with a friendly smile, my stomach dropping to the ground in response. Suddenly I’m not very hungry anymore.

“I’m good, thanks. Just looking,” I answer, then stalk off to the booth, sulking.

Vanessa puts her hands on her hips as I slide in next to her. “All right, I’ve had enough. You look like hell. It’s time to pay the piper and tell me what’s going on.”

“Well,” I start, flipping my hair around my finger, staring down at the table, “I met someone.”

“Yes, I got that much. Go on.”

“He was beautiful and hot as hell, funny, and…,” I glance to my left and to my right, before whispering, “his cock was magnificent.”

She leans in close to my ear. “You do realize you write erotic romance novels, right? It’s okay to talk about cocks out loud.”

I pinch her arm, tossing a sharp stare her way. “Yes, I know, but no one else does.”

“Okay, let’s get back to the cock. I need a bit more detail on that.” She giggles, finally making me smile.

“He did dirty things to me on the train, and I seriously liked it. In the hotel room, too. Oh, and he talked dirty, and I found myself liking that, too. Remember with Sean—” I stick my finger in my mouth making a gagging noise “—he would always tell me he was ‘gonna put it in.’ Ugh,” I wince, “It was nothing like that.” I shrug my shoulders, my throat sore as I say the words. “I was starting to really like him.”

“Okay, so I’m still not getting why you’re so upset. He sounds amazing,” she says just as Trent brings our drinks over, his light brown hair flapping against his green eyes.

“All right, beautiful ladies. One caramel latte for you, Olivia, and one mochachino for you, Vanessa.” He places our drinks on the table, adding two cider doughnuts to the mix. “On the house.” He winks, before traipsing back behind the register.

“He’s pretty cute. I think you should go out with him,” I suggest, taking a sip of my latte, the warm liquid gliding down my throat.

“He is cute,” she comments, “but he’s rather run of the mill. You know I like my men to stand out from the crowd. Anyway, you’re distracting me. We were talking about you.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah.” She nudges my shoulder, but I take a quick bite of the doughnut before continuing.

“Well, I started to really like him, but I found out he was lying to me.”

“What do you mean?” She swirls her straw around her drink, confusion marring her brow.

“He told me that he was a developer for a software company. Come to find out, he owns the whole freaking company, and… I found loads of pictures of him with all these different women.” I huff out a sigh. “I can’t do it again, you know, V. I don’t want to be someone’s afterthought.”

“I know, Liv. I do. But tell me, what did he say about it?”

I expel a frustrated breath. “I didn’t ask him, I just took off. We only just met the day before so I guess he doesn’t owe me an explanation, but he lied and that’s a deal breaker for me.”

She props her elbow on the table, fist under her chin, glaring at me. “Did you tell him who
you
were?” and as soon as she poses the question, I know where she’s headed.

“Well, I told him that I write erotic novels,” I reply, as she raises one of her perfectly manicured brows in the air.

“And?” She taps her fingers against the table. “Did you tell him your real name?”

“No.”

“So, in other words,” she preaches, taking a sip of her latte, “you lied, too.”

“That’s different.” I attempt to defend myself but realize I’m failing miserably. “I didn’t lie about who I was, I just didn’t tell him my real name.”

“Autumn,” she scolds, tilting her head sideways, “a lie’s a lie. You lied too, yet you wouldn’t even give the guy a chance to explain.”

“UGH!” I groan. “You’re so frustrating!”

“Yes, because you know I’m right!” she exclaims, pleased with herself as she pops a piece of the doughnut into her mouth. “I’m always right.”

“Well, let’s not get carried away,” I joke, breaking off a corner for myself. “Wow, that’s really good.”

“Stop deflecting. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, “but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Finally, some honesty. Here.” She pushes the doughnut toward me. “Finish this. It’ll make you feel better.”

I doubt it.

Chapter Twelve

~Olivia~

It’s been four weeks since Boston, and Hunter is still in the forefront of my mind. I honestly thought by now that I would have gotten him out of my system. After all, we knew each other barely two days, but something about him stuck. He’s like a piece of gum on the bottom of my shoe that I just can’t remove no matter how hard I try. It’s a terrible analogy, but it’s the best one I’ve got.

My days are filled with thoughts of him; his rum-colored eyes, that killer smile, his corny attempt at jokes, the way it felt when he held me, and yes, his cock. At night, I think about his cock, how my lips wrapped around his velvety skin, the way he moved inside of me.

I’m going to need a new pink vibrator soon. That’s how much I’ve been thinking about him.

I inwardly sigh, my heart scrunched tight with longing. It’s not a familiar feeling for me, but it’s there. I miss him. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can picture his arms around me, and if I squeeze them really tight, I can even hear his laugh.

The phone rings, jolting me out of my self-pity party. When I see it’s my publisher, I hit ignore. I’ve had a block for weeks, which doesn’t help since the deadline for my latest novel is fast approaching. Every time I sit down to write, the words don’t come. I need divine inspiration, or maybe I just need Hunter.

That little voice in my head, that also happens to sound a lot like Vanessa, has been prodding me, but for some reason, I won’t budge. He’s probably forgotten about me by now anyway. I’m sure he’s got plenty to keep him busy with those diamond-clad beauties bowing to his every whim.

Flopping back onto the bed, I close my eyes hoping to put my active brain to rest for a while. The phone rings again and I consider not answering it, but it’s probably Vanessa’s once-a-day check in.

“Hey, V,” I answer, my voice lacking enthusiasm.

“Have you called him yet?” she challenges, getting right to the point.

“Geez, you just cut to the chase.”

“Yes, which is exactly what you need to do. Stop being so stubborn and just call him. Besides, I’m dying to meet the guy who managed to capture a small piece of your heart and a large piece of your vagina in one day. It’s nearly an impossible feat.” She laughs hysterically, cracking herself up.

“Ha ha. You’re just a laugh riot over there.”

“So, do you want to go out tonight?” she counters, and I hear voices and running water in the background.

“No, and where are you?”

“I’m at the salon, about to get some highlights. And why no? We haven’t gone out in four weeks. You need a night out.”

“I’m tired, V. Charlie and I are going to hang out and watch a movie. You’re more than welcome to join us if you want.”

She sighs into the phone. “I’ll think about it. But I’d really like to go out so I can show off my new hair. All right, I have to run, they’re ready for me. I’ll call you later.”

“Bye.”

I hang up the phone and Charlie jumps on the bed, wagging his tail. “So what do you think, Charlie? Should we watch a seriously depressing movie, or something uplifting, or….” I eye my computer on the desk. “We could do some internet surfing.”

I’m a total glutton for punishment, flipping open my laptop, searching for pictures of Hunter. When the images pop up, I can’t help but smile. I reach out and run my thumb over his eyes, his strong jaw, his lips, my heart yearning for something it can’t have. I close the computer and decide to stop torturing myself.

A buzzing sound startles me. My eyes try their best to adjust to the darkness, when I realize I fell asleep and the noise I’m hearing is the intercom. I stretch myself over Charlie, who’s sleeping comfortably on one of my pillows, and push the button.

“Yes, Henry?” I answer, groggy, desiring nothing but to go back to my altered state.

“Miss Vanessa is here and on her way up.”