Chapter 5
Autumn
I didn’t think I had a type. But staring at this man makes me realise that I do, in fact, have a type.
What is wrong with me? I am cut up. I almost got hit by a car, and the person who almost hit me is hot, with a capital H. He is Jason Statham hot, to be exact. I don’t fully take him in, but he is every bit the brooding, grumpy asshole.
“Me wanting to get your attention? I think it may have been the other way around: English rose . Maybe, just maybe, the next time you want my attention – don’t throw yourself in front of my car?” The amusement in his voice is clear as he makes his last point sound like a question rather than a statement.
Before I think about what I am doing, I lift my hand up and attempt to hit him straight across the face. Before it hits its mark, his huge hand reaches out and wraps around my wrist. There is immediate fire in his eyes.
“Oooh, you’re a volatile one.” He narrows his eyebrows at me and looks at the hand that he has a firm grip on.
“You almost hit me, you absolute dickhead. Not the other way around.” I enunciate the words, trying to steady my shaking voice as adrenaline pumps through my body. He squeezes my hand and looks at me with intensity. Instant regret floods me as the sting in my palm amplifies, and I wince. Determined not to let him see my obvious discomfort, I step closer to him and stare into his eyes without so much as a blink. I refuse to back down.
“Well, that wasn’t very ladylike, was it?” The man laughs at me, which makes me boil over with fury. “You should probably move faster next time if you want to actually hit me, Rose.” Another low, rumbling laugh rolls out of him.
“My name is Autumn, NOT Rose, dickhead.” I snatch my hand out of his calloused grip. I wonder why I felt the need to give him my name, but it was out of my mouth before I even thought about it.
Alice huddles around me, and after the heated exchange dies down, I realise that I am incredibly sore. I’m not sure if my body or my ego hurt more. The crowd fizzled out when Alice made sure everyone knew that I was okay, but face-planting the ground was not my highest priority today. The embarrassment kicks in, and tears start to prick at the corners of my eyes from the pain.
“Can I give you a ride?” the guy says with a cocky tone as he taps on the hood of his car with his knuckles.
“Screw you!” I snap as Alice and I walk down the street, tears still pricking my eyes.
“Oh, I wish you would, and the name is Sawyer. Nice to meet you, Sugar.”
I am still completely shaken by what happened. When we get to my house, Alice tells me she is staying over tonight.
It was a short one mile walk from the square to my house, but the stinging in my knees made me feel every step.
My lovely Jed is there to greet us as soon as my key is in the lock. Tail wagging, and with a big yawn, he bumps his large snout into my arm.
“Hi, boy,” Alice says in a baby voice - giving him a scratch behind the ear. “Who is my best boy?” The two of them start play fighting. My best friend is more of a cat person, but she loves Jed nearly as much as I do. Alice gives Jed his dinner while I make my way upstairs to shower. As much as this is going to hurt, I need to wash the humiliation of the last few hours away.
I wince as the hot water hits my knees, but it feels good to relax. After a couple of minutes, the stinging has diminished.
I lather my favourite peach shampoo into my hair, still reminded of the fact that my palms ache from slamming into the ground.
Grabbing whatever body wash I can find, I lather it up and work it over my body, carefully avoiding the worst of my scrapes. The steam and hot water are doing wonders for the aches and pains.
After what feels like hours, I turn the shower off and step out into my bathroom. Steam fogs up the walls and the mirror. Taking my finger over a small patch on the mirror, I wipe against it and hear that satisfying squeak as the condensation beads into little droplets, gathering on the sink.
With a good enough view of my face, I apply my skincare and bundle my hair on top of my head in the white fluffy towel I’d picked from the hamper. After I’m dry, I throw on my favourite pajama set that are soft black cotton with pink roses. The shorts are short enough that my ass hangs out of the bottom, and the matching tank top is tight-fitting. Although it doesn’t cover a great deal, it makes me feel cozy, which is the most important thing. The plus side is that there is nothing covering my knees, so rubbing will be minimal for my scrapes.
“What do you want for takeout?” Alice shouts up the stairs while I towel dry my hair.
“Chinese – and I want ALL the food. Not some of it.”
“Right – ALL the food,” she shouts back, chuckling.
Surrounded by takeout boxes and the credits rolling on the action movie we watched, Alice is fast asleep on the couch, snoring – although she will tell you that she doesn’t snore.
I go to gather up the half-empty containers and take them into the kitchen to box them up for leftovers. Tipping egg rolls and noodles into plastic pots, I clip the lids in place and open the fridge door. I sigh, looking at the sorry state of my fridge, eyeballing the boxes from last week’s takeout. I remind myself that I always intend for leftovers not to go to waste, but there is no doubt that they will end up in the trash over the next couple of days.
I hate to sleep in a messy home, so I always try to tidy up before heading to bed. Jed doesn’t even move from being tucked behind Alice’s legs on the couch. I swear that this dog prefers her to me.
I am standing by the sink, washing the knives and forks, and without even realizing it, my mind goes back to that asshole, Sawyer.
That dark-haired, rude, tattooed, arrogant, way over six foot, bearded, hot-as-fuck asshole. Heat floods my cheeks.
“ I wish you would. Nice to meet you, Sugar.”
If I didn’t want to punch him square in the face, I think I’d want to sit on it instead. What is wrong with me? I won’t see him again, so surely it is okay to fantasise - even a little bit about the man that almost hit me with his car.
Tiredness consumes me as I drape a blanket over Alice and pull it up around her shoulders. I drag myself up the stairs, close the curtains on my windows, and climb into bed.