Page 52 of Chains
“Should I call Bret and ask him why he did this?”
Chains cocked his head and gazed at her. “I wouldn’t—but I’d definitely ask him to reimburse you for the money you lost. He’s the fucker who broke it off—he needs to pay up.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not going to do that.” She looked down at the diamond ring. “I could hock this—that would piss him off.”
“Then do it.”
“I threw my last ring at Dylan and told him to go to hell. My parents lost money on that one. I’ve paid for most of the wedding this time around.” She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “I can’t believe this is happeningagain.”
Before he could answer, the doorbell rang, and Autumn leaped up from the couch and scurried out of the room, saying, “It’s our food.”
Autumn came back into the room with two large bags as the aroma of chili and cumin swirled in the air.
“Damn, woman, how much shit did you order?”
“A lot. Remember, this is make-me-feel-better and fuck-you-Bret food. We can eat on the coffee table. I’ll get some forks and hot sauce,” she said, walking into the kitchen. Her cat followed behind, meowing.
Chains laughed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He called Eagle and told him to feed Thor and keep an eye on him, then he hung up.
“Is Thor doing well? I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” Autumn said as she put the round foil takeout containers down on the table.
“He’s back to his old self. What do you need me to help you with?”
“Nothing. You can start eating.” She put the hot sauce down on a coaster. “I’ll grab some extra napkins after I put the side of ice cream in the freezer.”
When Autumn came back into the room, she plopped down next to Chains, and her cat jumped up to snuggle against her other side.
“This is my cat, Cinder. She loves to cuddle.” Then, she asked, “Do you have enough room? I can push her over a bit.”
Autumn’s legs were brushing against his.
“I’m good,” he said, then cut into the beef burrito supreme with a fork.
“I can’t wait to try the enchiladas. I’ve been craving them all day.” When she reached over to snag her foil container, her arm touched his.
Autumn’s closeness felt good—comfortable and familiar. It had been a long time since he’d found himself so attracted and intrigued by a woman. Part of him wanted to embrace it, relish in it, but the part deep inside him that was still raw from Krystal’s betrayal held him back.
After dinner, Chains helped Autumn clean up, then he stayed and watched a mindless sitcom on one of the channels. During the show, he glanced over at Autumn and saw that she was fast asleep. Her head was on the armrest and her feet were bent at the knee and lightly touching the side of his right thigh.
He couldn’t drag his eyes away from her body—the outline of her tits and the curve of her waist. Licking his lips, he stared at the auburn strands of hair cascading past her shoulders, the smooth skin tinged with a golden glow from the floor lamp, and her softly heaving chest. Autumn’s lips were slightly parted, and he was seized with the overwhelming urge to slip his tongue in between them.
Chains gripped the arm of the couch and pushed up to his feet. He looked around and noticed a blanket on top of a chest near one of the windows, and went over and grabbed it. Gingerly, he placed the blanket over her body; she sighed and gripped it, then tucked it snuggly under her chin. He picked up one of the decorative pillows from the couch and carefully placed it under her head so as not to wake her.
After turning off the television, Chains dimmed the kitchen lights and made his way to the front door. Trying out a few bump keys, he let himself out and then locked the door. The air had turned icy as the nighttime temperature dropped. He breathed in deeply, and the cold burned his lungs and made his eyes water.
Straddling the bike, Chains glanced at Autumn’s house and narrowed his eyes. He was drawn to her, pulled by something deep inside him, something that craved her in a way he’d never felt before.
“That can’t happen,” he muttered under his breath. “No fuckin’ way.”
Chains turned the keys in the ignition and pressed the starter. The bike roared to life, and he squeezed the clutch, clicked the gearshift lever, and twisted the throttle as he pulled away from Autumn’s house and sped down the road.
