Page 71 of Savored Sins
ZEKE
Carter: Just touching base to say I’m excited to work together. I think you’ll really help us move the needle on this project.
Zeke: Dude. I can’t with that shit. Speak English.
Carter: Fine. Fingers crossed for ya with the chick.
Carter: Ramona could not stop gushing about those photos. Boss work, bro.
Zeke:
My breath’s pounding in my ears as my feet pound the pavement. There’s sweat dripping down my chest, beading my bare stomach. I’m on my third loop around the downtown zone of Hawthorne Bay, and although the muscles in my thighs are shaking, I don’t want to quit yet. Idon’t want to go back to Will’s and try in vain not to think about Autumn.
I haven’t heard from her—which I prepared myself for. Although I’dloveif Autumn were to end up giving me a second chance, that’s not the reason I did any of this. I took the job with Carter, cashed in my favor, and got the pics of Autumn’s menswear line on the desk of that editor lady, not to manipulate Autumn, but to fix what I wrecked. I let her down, and she deserved better than that. So I did my best to give her better.
The job at Carter’s firm isn’tthatbad. I mean, besides having to be up at the nasty, hairy butt crack of dawn, the work isn’tassoul sucking as I expected. It’ll probably get that way—today was only the first day after all, and it was a bunch of boring meetings and contract signing—but I’m not thinking about that yet. I’m not thinking about losing Autumn, either, who’s a grown ass woman and will make her own decisions. I’m just thinking about this run.
Besides, Autumn probably doesn’t evenknowabout the photo shoot yet. It could be that her portfolio gets shoved to the side of the desk, buried beneath a pile of other folders, but I refuse to believe that. Her designs arefire. Once that editor sees them, she’ll have Autumn on the phone in two seconds. I’m sure of it. This kind of thing probably just takes time.
A car horn honks. I glance around. I’m running on the street, but if I move any more to the right, I’ll run into a damn building. I’m not sure where this bozo wants me to go?—
Wait a sec.
Waitonefucking second.
My heart jumps into my chest. I know that car. That’s a fucking Mercedes. That’s Autumn’s car. At least, I think it is. I’m a little scared to think it might actually be her—it seems too good to be true—so I keep my gaze straight ahead. Maybe I’ve beenrunning too long. Maybe I’m getting delirious. Maybe this is all a hallucin?—
“Hey! Hot stuff!”
My head jerks toward the car. Autumn’s yelling at me through the open window, not even looking at the road. A few people across the street look up, craning their necks to see what the hell’s going on.
Autumn stops the car. Without even turning the engine off, she hops out of the driver’s side, leaving the car idling and the door wide open, and sprints toward me. As I gape at her, still not sure if this is actually happening, she grabs my face in both her hands and kisses me.
Hot damn. This is happening.
Her lips are soft on mine, but firm, deliberate, like she knows what she wants. I kiss her back, even though I’m sweaty and gross and probably panting like a motherfucker. I’m trying not to think about how wet my hair is.
After a minute, Autumn’s lips slow, and she pulls back to look at me, her hands still on either side of my face.
“Autumn,” I say. “I amsosorry. I don’t even—I don’t know how to?—”
“I know it was you,” she interrupts. She’s studying me, but there’s a hint of a smile on her mouth. “The photos. The shoot. The editor from the magazine called—they’re giving me a feature. Thank you.”
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Don’t you dare thank me. I only got that shit on an editor’s desk. Snagging the feature? That’s all you.”
“Regardless. I still owe you.”
“Nah,” I say. “You don’t owe me anything. In fact, maybe we’re finally even.”
Autumn nods, biting her lip. Her mane of auburn hair is swept up in a bun, but a few strands in front have come loose. Asshe drops her hands from my face, I reach out to tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear. I can tell there’s more she wants to say, so I just wait, holding her gaze.
“What’s the deal with your announcement on TikTok?” She blurts out. “Did you take the job with Carter? Trey sent it to me, asked if I saw it. I was honestly shocked. What about your sponsors? And the pilot? Did you submit it? What if you win? What’ll you?—”
“It’s all good,” I say, cutting her off.
All her questions are ones that have been pinging around in my own head, but they’re too depressing to think about. With the hours Carter and I discussed for this contract today, I’m pretty sure I’d need one of those time travel dealios from Harry Potter to also film a TV show. But I don’t say any of that. The last thing I want is for her to feel bad.
“I submitted my entry to the pilot competition, but I’m not sure how it’d work if I win. It’s no big deal, though. I think this job is a step in the right direction for me—especially financially. No more mooching off people.”
