Chapter 30
thirty
ZEKE
Will: Are you fucking kidding me right now?
Will: Holy shit.
Will: I can’t believe this.
Will: And here I thought maybe you’d follow through on something for once.
Fuuuuuck.
God, I fucking suck, man.
I don’t even know how it happened—getting so drunk I passed the hell out and forgot all about Autumn’s fashion show this morning.
It wasn’t until a goddamn seagull screeched in my freaking ear that I jerked awake and looked at the time, which is also when I saw the ten missed calls from Autumn and the texts from Lydia and Will.
And hoo boy, those texts from Will have kept on coming. And they are judgey.
But I deserve it—his judgment. I deserve Autumn’s judgment most of all. I still can’t believe I did that, showing up at her store after the show had already started, in the clothes that I slept in and my hair all over the place.
And throwing up on her sidewalk. God. I’m so embarrassed thinking about it I want to crawl in a hole and die.
God knows I’ve thrown up plenty of times in front of hot women—although granted while they were puking, too—but until this morning, I’d never let one down by hurling.
It’s a whole new low, and I’m honestly disgusted with myself.
But forget the embarrassment. The thing that’s really killing me, the thing that’s got me almost paralyzed as I lie here on my bed, face down in the pillow, is knowing that I fucked it all up for her.
Autumn trusted me. She let me film at her house, let me live on her property, and tailored those kick-ass pieces from her men’s line to fit me—all for me to let her down in the most humiliating way possible.
Fuck me, man. I let myself get caught up in the cool shit we were doing together. Skinny dipping, getting it on in alleyways, solving murders. But I should’ve known better than to think I had it in me to come through for someone like her. ‘Cause here we are.
Rolling over onto my back, I stare at the ceiling fan while I try to call Benji again. I know he’s going to give me that pained sigh he always does when I do something stupid, but so be it. I need advice, and god knows I’m not going to call my sister. I’m dead meat when she finds out about this.
But Benji doesn’t answer. He’s probably teaching a yoga class or something.
My head is killing me. I’m fully sober now, but the shame is so heavy it’s crushing me. I turn back over to stick my head in the pillow, but as soon as I do, there’s a loud, angry banging at the door. Shit.
It’s obviously Autumn. I’ve got half a mind to just ignore her, pretend I’m not here, but the banging is so incessant and so fucking loud, I’m pretty sure my head’s going to explode.
So I heave myself out of bed and trudge to the door, not even caring that I’m only in my boxers and a mismatched pair of socks.
When I open the door, Autumn’s livid face is inches from mine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so pissed off, and it scares the hell out of me. Because I know that rage is meant for me. And even worse, I know I deserve it.
I close my eyes, too ashamed to even look her in the face. “Autumn. I am so, so sorry. I fucked up so bad. I can’t even tell you how awful I feel—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Autumn says. Her mouth is a thin, tight line. “Everyone’s always talking about what an irresponsible little dick you are, but I didn’t want to believe it. Well, joke’s on me. I think it goes without saying that you’re not welcome to stay here anymore.”
I roll my lips together, fighting the urge to hang my head. My ego can’t take any more hits. I’ve got to at least pretend to take this like a man. “No problem. I kind of figured.”
“Great, so we’re on the same page,” Autumn continues. “You’ve got until tomorrow to pack up your stuff and get out of here. I’m not going to just, like, kick your ass out on the street, so I already called Lydia. She and Will said you can crash with them for a while.”
She already called my brother? I feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under me. I know it’s my own fault, but realizing that all these decisions are being made for me, that I’m being passed around like somebody’s unwanted kid in a custody battle, feels like shit.
“Look,” I say, running a hand through my messed-up hair. “I know you’re pissed—and with good reason—but I’m not a child. You didn’t have to call Will. I can take care of myself.”
Autumn tilts her head, her gaze scrutinizing. “Can you, though? I mean, maybe you shouldn’t act like a child, and you won’t get treated like one.”
And that’s when a switch flips inside me. It’s like a gate descending outside a castle, a suit of armor clanking into place. I withdraw completely, sinking back into myself so only the impish, unbothered mask I’ve spent so long wearing remains.
“Got it,” I say, leaning a forearm against the doorframe. A slow, lazy smile creeps across my face. Autumn just narrows her eyes. “I’ll have my stuff out by tonight, and you’ll never have to see me again. No biggie.”
I give her a little nod, then pull the door shut.
I know she’s still standing there, probably staring blankly at the other side of the door, but I don’t care.
I barely make it across the cabin and back onto the bed before the mask dissolves, every ounce of ego I just drew on to make it out of that exchange intact completely disintegrating.
Tomorrow will come sooner rather than later. I know I should pack my shit. But right now, I just can’t. I can’t move, can’t think. All I can do now—and it’s as goddamn shocking as it is natural—is lie on the bed and cry.
I haven’t cried for fucking years. But I cry for Autumn, and I cry for myself. Because I fucked everything up—for her, for us—and I don’t think there’s any coming back from it.