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"I wish we could just stay out here."
"Me too,” I say, and I mean it more than she knows.
"But my feet are freezing."
I back away from her to look down at her feet. She is wearing the smallest, thinnest pair of slippers I've ever seen.
"Shit, Autumn. You have to get inside."
"I don't want to without you," she says, and her eyes lock with mine. I love the way her head has to tilt back to do so.
I can't say no to her.
Neither of us move for at least a minute. We just stand there watching each other like we know we’re not supposed to.
The reminder of her freezing feet is the only reason I look away first, and walk her back inside.
19
Autumn
There are some really impolite clients that exhaust me more than most things about this office. Not that there aren’t sweet ones. Some already remember me when they call, and even ask how I’m doing. I had a woman bring me flowers the other day because she noticed my desk looked empty. I cried when she left.
But some of them can’t seem to be bothered with talking to me at all, even when I’m their only option. I’ve dealt with the dehumanizing reality of customer service before, but this feels different. Personal. I try to shrug it off, but I can’t help but wonder if they know more about me than they should. Does Amelia kill time with clients by telling them about her son’s ex-girlfriend? I don’t want to know.
The only thing that exhausts me more is trying to act normal around Amelia. I feel like someone has writtenI have feelings for Miles Cresson my forehead, and I’m constantly trying to cover it up.
I’m nervous whenever he texts me throughout the day, that she’ll somehow sense the guilt I’m feeling. Or see it on my face, I guess. I’ve never been a good actor, what you see is what you get. No matter how hard I try.
“I read your book,” Kaitlyn’s voice suddenly comes from behind me. I’m not awake enough to react.
At least not right away, but it only takes a few seconds for panic to set in. The only people I know in real life that have read my book are the girls, and they already knew every incriminating detail. They had no connections to him, or his family, and therefore I had every reason to trust them with that information.
Kaitlyn on the other hand? I have no idea what she’ll do with it. I’m terrified.
“Yeah?” It comes out raspy, and betrays just how exhausted I am. I clear my throat.
She giggles as she walks around to face me.
“Don’t freak out, I fuckinglovedit. I might lose my mind if I never get to read more about those two.”
The world around us disappears.
“Wait, what?” I must be hearing things, because it sounded like she just said she loved my book. I shut my eyes, giving my sleepy brain a moment to catch up and…
She actually did say that, didn’t she?
“Really?”
“Yes, really! Oh, don’t do that!” She leans over the desk and hands me a tissue. I hadn't even noticed there were tears welling up in my eyes. “Your makeup is too cute. What are you writing now? Is there more Cam? I’m not exaggerating when I say Ineedmore of him.”
I don’t know how, but it feels like I’m wide awake now. Her excitement feels like a shot of espresso.
“I think I’m in shock.”
With some more prying, I explain a little about what I’m currently working on, and watch her face drop and pick back up, over and over again. I’ve never met anyone so expressive, and I love it. I love feeling like I’m not the only one that cares what I’m writing.
Well, the only one other than a whopping thirty Goodreads reviewers.
