Page 29 of Savored Sins
fourteen
ZEKE
Zeke: New episode of the pod is OUT!
Benji: Cool. I’ll give it a listen.
Phoebe: Please tell me you don’t discuss the practical implications of ghost herpes this time.
Zeke: Can confirm. This episode is herpes free.
Will: How do you even have listeners???
Zeke: Listeners? I have *fans*, Will. Raving, obsessed, panty-flinging FANS.
Phoebe: Ew. You can stop now.
It’s late morning when I swing by Autumn’s boutique. It’s hotter than balls out, but the sky overhead is gloomy and threatening as fuck. I’ve just dropped an episode of thepodcast, and already the downloads are racking up. This shit isreallygoing to take off once I win that pilot competition—I’m going to have sponsors coming out of my ass.
Because Iwillwin. There’s no other option—not if I plan on getting out from under my brother’s thumb and leaving this middle-of-bum-fuck-nowhere town behind. It may sound harsh, but a bro’s got to prove himself.
I’m more than just a good lay. I think.
Autumn’s shop is empty when I step inside, and she’s on the floor rifling through papers that are fanned out around her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a customer inside Autumn’s store, which is a goddamn shame. This stupid little town issleepingon this place. My social media followers are from all across the country, but I know there’s a good chunk based in Boston. Maybe some of them will make the trek out here and things will pick up a bit.
“Hey,” Autumn says, giving me a quick little wave as she looks up from where she’s perched on the floor. She’s wearing the necklace I gave her, and my stomach does a tiny little flip. “Sorry for the mess. I’m just going through my checklists. Checking the catering and stuff, making sure the lighting will be—oh, hell. Never mind.”
“You’re good.”
She rises from the floor and strides to her desk. Swiping a folded pile of clothes from the back of the chair behind the desk, she holds it out to me. “I’m pretty sure we’re good to go, but best to have you try them on again. Just to make double sure.”
Really? That’s it?
This chick watched me get my dick sucked by a fuckingghost, like, twelve hours ago, and all of a sudden it’s business as usual? Get the hell out.
My eyebrows raise, but I say nothing. I just take the clothes and head to the fitting room. If it weren’t for the huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street, I’d be tempted to drop trou right here and now just to see what Autumn would do. But I won’t do that to her. I’m trying tohelpher business, not hurt it.
Then again, I find it hard to believe this body wouldeverbe bad for business.
“Alright,” I say as I come swaggering out from behind the curtain. “How’s it look? Do these jeans make my ass look big?”
Autumn rolls her eyes, which makes me smirk. She’s sassy, and it turns me on.
“Youarean ass,” Autumn says. She pulls me in front of the mirror, adjusting the angle of my body and looking me up and down. “But no—your ass looks as nice and tight as ever.”
I smile. There it is. “Mm. I’ll take it.”
Autumn takes a few steps back and surveys me, tilting her head to the side. Her big, green eyes are shining, and although she doesn’t say it, I can tell she’s happy with her handiwork. Her freckled cheeks are glowing.
“Length is good,” she says. “Fit is good. Everything’s good.”
“And we’re good?”
I wasn’t going to ask. I don’t knowwherethis sudden flicker of doubt is coming from—Ineverfeel self-conscious—but now that the words are out, they hang there. And I wait for an answer.
Autumn shoots me a pointed glance. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?”
Ooookay then. She doesn’t want to talk about last night. Noted. I am perfectly fine with that.
