~Hunter~
“I can’t believe I’m actually letting you do this now, it’s nearly midnight,” I tell Rex as he sets up all the ink and needles on the table.
“That’s what happens when you drink beer and do shots. You lose your mind,” he taunts, chuckling, and I roll my eyes at him.
“This is going to hurt isn’t it?” I’m already wincing and the needle hasn’t even touched me yet.
“Jesus, Hunter, don’t be such a pussy.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I reply, watching as he cleans my wrist with a pad of rubbing alcohol, then shaves the fine hairs there, before cleansing it again. He applies some ointment to my skin then picks up the needle. That’s when I turn my head.
“Do your worst,” I instruct, and he laughs. “Oh, and don’t laugh. I don’t want you screwing this up.”
“Shut up and let me work.”
I’m not sure how many minutes go by because I’ve kept my eyes closed the entire time. Although, it hasn’t really hurt all that much.
“There,” he says, pride filling his voice, “all done. You can look now, chickenshit.”
I twist my head back around, my jaw dropping and my heart warming at the same time. Tyler’s name in thick, black script surrounds my wrist. “I fucking love it.”
“Good, because it’s permanent.” He pauses, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Seriously though, man,” he adds, nodding his head, “this would make him proud.”
“Thanks.”
He wraps up my wrist with a bandage and I smile. Autumn’s words ring true. Now I really am carrying him with me every day.
My palms are sweaty, knee bouncing endlessly as the taxi driver takes his sweet time getting to the hotel. It’s a ten minute ride, yet it feels like it’s taking forever. Even though it’s only been a few hours, I can’t wait until morning. I’m anxious to see Autumn, to hold her, to kiss her. I’m especially excited to show her my tattoo, to let her know how much she inspired me.
I rub my hands down my pant legs a few times, attempting to steady my breathing. This is ridiculous. We just saw each other, but for some reason, I’m nervous. I’m looking forward to hearing her laugh. That sounds asinine, I know.
The driver lets me off in front of the hotel. I don’t have exact change, but when a twenty gets slapped into his hand, he doesn’t complain. As soon as the car door slams, I hesitate to say that I run into the hotel. It’s more like a jog—an exceptionally quick one.
I’m willing the elevator to ascend faster but it isn’t complying. This has to be the slowest elevator in history. By the time I reach Autumn’s floor, there’s a strange feeling rolling around in my stomach.
It’s not butterflies because guys don’t get those.
As I get closer to her door, I smile. There’s a note taped to it, making me grin wider. I rip it off and open it, the smile dropping off of my face as quickly as it arrived.
I don’t do liars.
Shit.
I clamp my eyes closed, exhaling a harsh breath. “Shit!” I shout, earning me a dirty look from an elderly woman walking out of her room. With a tight fist, I bang on the door a couple of times. “Autumn. It’s Hunter. Open up. I want to talk to you. I need to explain.” When there’s no response, I try again. “God damn it!”
Pent-up adrenaline courses through my veins, my only release the wall in front of me. I punch it hard, then shake my hand out and wince when the pain sets in.
“Fuck!”
I’m pissed at her for not letting me explain, but mostly I’m angry with myself for being dishonest. How the hell did she find out? It doesn’t matter now. I have to fix it. I’ll camp out here and wait. Then she’ll have no choice but to hear me out.
I head down to the lobby, taking a seat on one of the leather couches, when I realize it’s the middle of the night and it will be hours before she leaves. An idea strikes me. Maybe I can get them to let me into her room. It’s a long shot but worth a try. I saunter over to the front desk, hoping my charm will work in my favor.
“Excuse me, beautiful,” I compliment the attractive blonde behind the counter. “I was visiting a friend earlier this evening and left something in her room. I’m wondering if you can let me in?” I bite the inside of my lip as I wait for her answer.
“I’m sorry, sir, we’re not allowed to do that, but if you give me her name, I’ll call up to her room to see if she’s in.”
I huff out an irritated sigh, which gets me nowhere. “Her name is Autumn Winters.”
“Okay, hang on just a second.” She goes to her computer and types something on the keyboard before coming back rather swiftly. “I’m sorry sir, but she already checked out.”
“She what?”
“She checked out of the hotel already.”
I drop my head in my hands, contemplating what to do now. “Okay, thanks.”
There are a couple of taxis out front and I snag one, texting Rex to let him know I’m on my way back over. I guess it’s too much to hope the elevator’s been fixed this quickly. I’m not in the mood to climb stairs.
My mind races through various scenarios, a dull ache gnawing at my stomach. My knuckles sting from my aggressive encounter with the wall, but shit, I deserve it. I should’ve trusted Autumn enough to tell her, to know she wasn’t like all those other women. But then again, I didn’t even know her that well so how could I trust her? There’s an incessant tapping on my shoulder and a voice telling me that it doesn’t matter. I should’ve told her the truth. I fucked up.
“You fucked up, bro,” Rex states flatly, taking a handful of potato chips, stuffing them in his mouth, the crumbs falling to the floor.
“Thanks for telling me what I already know.”
“Why did you lie to her anyway? Why not tell her the truth?” he pipes back, brushing the remnants off his jeans.
The truth? Now there’s a novel concept. What would I know of the truth? I had the worst teacher in the world when it came to that—my mother. But it’s no excuse. I may be my mother’s son, but I’m damn sure not my mother.
“I don’t know. I guess I wanted her to like me, for me,” I answer honestly, opening the fridge, pulling out the orange juice container.
“That sounds a bit like high school melodrama,” he jokes, as I pour a glass of juice. “How old are you?”
“Funny.”
He crinkles up the empty chip bag, hurling it into the garbage. “So, just find her and tell her the truth. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“Yeah. I have to look her up. I didn’t even get her cell phone number so I don’t know how to contact her. I’m sure I can do an internet search. Actually, I think I’ll start that now.”
“Geez, fucking anxious much?” he taunts, “I hope you have broadband because I don’t have wireless here.”
“Yeah, I’ve got broadband.” I walk back out to the living room, retrieve my laptop, and then plant myself on the sofa, hiking my legs up on the trunk that serves as a coffee table.
Almost a half-hour later, I haven’t found anything. “This is ridiculous.” I shoot Rex a look as he’s flipping stations with the remote. “I can’t find any listings for Autumn on Google, just links for her books. There are a couple of Autumns on Facebook, but none of them are her. Shit.”
“She’s a writer?” He clicks the remote off to give me his undivided attention.
“Yeah.”
“What does she write?”
“Erotic romance,” I reply, staring down at the screen, searching for addresses in New York.
“Oh shit, she writes porn? You hit the mother-load.” He grins, pitching a dark brow in the air.
“No, it’s nothing like that. Anyway, I can’t find Autumn Winters anywhere,” I complain frustrated, typing a couple more search strings into Google.
“Autumn Winters?”
“Yeah.”
He cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing me. “Bro, that sounds like a stage name.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh man, I thought you were smarter than that. Going to Harvard and shit. You’ve been hoodwinked.”
“Hoodwinked? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word before. What the hell do you mean?”
He shakes his head, chuckling. “Bro. That doesn’t sound like someone’s real name.”
“What?” It takes me a second to process his words when the realization hits me, a thousand bricks being dropped on my head simultaneously. “Fuck.” I fling myself off the couch, rubbing the back of my neck, pacing back and forth over the green, stained carpet.
“Yep. If there was ever a time for you to drop the F-bomb, it would be now.”
I scrape a rough hand through my hair. “Christ. How the hell am I going to find her now?”
“Well, you’re going to have to hope she comes looking for you.”
“Yeah, right.”